Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Heading: North
Time to check out for a week.
Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Reportage
The short, punchy version:
Men's B race: crappy. Singlespeed A race: happy.
Gory details:
Got one practice lap in for the CCCX #6 Men's B race at the Fort Ord day camp, then off we went at 10am. I found myself mixing it up with Dave P. and others like last week, a good sign. However, I found some aggro passing maneouvres from the 35+B leaders coming up from behind a tad offputting and I got gapped from my group, and then the real fun started when my chain started sucking and wedging into the spaces between my frame, crank, and chainrings, causing major delay. A soft slideout on a sharp right turn and a stupid encounter with a pole that resulted in complete dismount didn't help either. I ended up softpedaling through my sporadic and persistent mechanical difficulties, having dark thoughts of "If I can't enjoy this, does that mean I never have any fun?", and got lapped by the end. Bah, humbug! In after-race cleanup this evening, I found that a couple of links in my chain are now twisted--that takes some serious torque. I hope there's a new chain in my Xmas stocking this year...
It sucked, but I had plenty left in my legs and decided to stay for the singlespeed race. The in-between time was good, with a couple sandwiches for refueling, chatting with the friendly folks and their friendly dogs, and good racing to watch in the master A's and women's races.
With spirits restored, I took off with the men's A and singlespeed A fields for a shot at redemption. The course featured an infamous, nagging climb to start that would sap strength on every lap, leaving my legs wobbly for the barriers at the top. Some downhill singletrack followed for recovery, which got more and more fun as I figured out lines around the washboard. It bottomed out at a sharp gully followed by a single barrier that many could bunnyhop, but us earthbound-types had to run it for 20 yards or so. Twistys through the woods followed, interspersed with a long, paved out-and-back and three logs to cross (hoppable for the able, more forced dismounts for we, the unable). Grassy lumps and a final set of barriers led back to the start line. My major concern wasn't the course so much as my hands: after democratically crashing on both sides in the B race and cooling down, my bruised palms made it painful to hold onto the handlebars.
After the first lap, I found myself in pitched battle with Geoff W., also racing singlespeed as a second race. I had the gearing and go to get up the hill; he had mad bunnyhopping skills. Seriously, I was wondering if he had hydraulics tucked into his frame somewhere. I'd be running past the single barrier, hear a slight thud of wheels landing behind me, and then whoosh there would go his damn green skinsuit ahead of me as I was fumbling with remounting. Damn him! It was then half a lap of grunting to keep up before reaching the hill again and pulling ahead for the descent, only to get passed again at the barrier...
For once, though, I had the last laugh. After 4-5 laps, I reached the top ahead of him, descended, dismounted and ran, and entirely expected to have him pass me again...but no! A look behind showed naught but an empty trail! As Geoff put it afterwards, he experienced "vapor lock" after going hard for 1.5 races. Now, Geoff's a good guy with a wife and kid and all, but it does feel sorta good to have put that kind of hurt on someone else.
Cruising along, I wasn't noticing any hand pain (mmm, adrenaline), and I managed to catch Gianni C. later on. Ron escaped my clutches--I had inklings that I was catching up, but he was taking it easy before dropping the hammer for the last couple laps and he beat me by a comfy margin. Finish: 5th, out of a dozen or so, and I see no shame in having Cesar C., Scott C., and Tim C. ahead of me (note to self: must get last name starting with C). Speaking of dropping the hammer, the report from the A race is that Aaron Odell was ahead for most of the men's race before putting in some serious time and distance into the rest of the field over the last couple of laps--and he blessedly lapped me to end the pain. 2nd place in the A's went to a young fellow, Eric E., who looks to be an ass-kicking mountain bike rider.
In review: in the end, I had fun. I find it ironic that the last time I raced the singlespeed, it was having mechanical issues (I tore the brake lever loose mid-race), making the geared bike feel like a rock of dependability. The chain going to crap probably has root in me not cleaning it last week: leftover goo led to the chainsuck, chainsuck led to wedging 'twixt chainring and crank, and a little torque and mashing led to twisted metal. And I don't think my derailleurs are the happiest of mechanical beasts right now. I'll try to be a good boy and fix it all...
And to put things in perspective, I had a heck of a better day than the defending US Men's cyclocross champion, who got coldcocked in a bizzare accident in the championship race today...
OK, time to finish the frickin' Christmas cards, ho ho ho...
Men's B race: crappy. Singlespeed A race: happy.
Gory details:
Got one practice lap in for the CCCX #6 Men's B race at the Fort Ord day camp, then off we went at 10am. I found myself mixing it up with Dave P. and others like last week, a good sign. However, I found some aggro passing maneouvres from the 35+B leaders coming up from behind a tad offputting and I got gapped from my group, and then the real fun started when my chain started sucking and wedging into the spaces between my frame, crank, and chainrings, causing major delay. A soft slideout on a sharp right turn and a stupid encounter with a pole that resulted in complete dismount didn't help either. I ended up softpedaling through my sporadic and persistent mechanical difficulties, having dark thoughts of "If I can't enjoy this, does that mean I never have any fun?", and got lapped by the end. Bah, humbug! In after-race cleanup this evening, I found that a couple of links in my chain are now twisted--that takes some serious torque. I hope there's a new chain in my Xmas stocking this year...
It sucked, but I had plenty left in my legs and decided to stay for the singlespeed race. The in-between time was good, with a couple sandwiches for refueling, chatting with the friendly folks and their friendly dogs, and good racing to watch in the master A's and women's races.
With spirits restored, I took off with the men's A and singlespeed A fields for a shot at redemption. The course featured an infamous, nagging climb to start that would sap strength on every lap, leaving my legs wobbly for the barriers at the top. Some downhill singletrack followed for recovery, which got more and more fun as I figured out lines around the washboard. It bottomed out at a sharp gully followed by a single barrier that many could bunnyhop, but us earthbound-types had to run it for 20 yards or so. Twistys through the woods followed, interspersed with a long, paved out-and-back and three logs to cross (hoppable for the able, more forced dismounts for we, the unable). Grassy lumps and a final set of barriers led back to the start line. My major concern wasn't the course so much as my hands: after democratically crashing on both sides in the B race and cooling down, my bruised palms made it painful to hold onto the handlebars.
After the first lap, I found myself in pitched battle with Geoff W., also racing singlespeed as a second race. I had the gearing and go to get up the hill; he had mad bunnyhopping skills. Seriously, I was wondering if he had hydraulics tucked into his frame somewhere. I'd be running past the single barrier, hear a slight thud of wheels landing behind me, and then whoosh there would go his damn green skinsuit ahead of me as I was fumbling with remounting. Damn him! It was then half a lap of grunting to keep up before reaching the hill again and pulling ahead for the descent, only to get passed again at the barrier...
For once, though, I had the last laugh. After 4-5 laps, I reached the top ahead of him, descended, dismounted and ran, and entirely expected to have him pass me again...but no! A look behind showed naught but an empty trail! As Geoff put it afterwards, he experienced "vapor lock" after going hard for 1.5 races. Now, Geoff's a good guy with a wife and kid and all, but it does feel sorta good to have put that kind of hurt on someone else.
Cruising along, I wasn't noticing any hand pain (mmm, adrenaline), and I managed to catch Gianni C. later on. Ron escaped my clutches--I had inklings that I was catching up, but he was taking it easy before dropping the hammer for the last couple laps and he beat me by a comfy margin. Finish: 5th, out of a dozen or so, and I see no shame in having Cesar C., Scott C., and Tim C. ahead of me (note to self: must get last name starting with C). Speaking of dropping the hammer, the report from the A race is that Aaron Odell was ahead for most of the men's race before putting in some serious time and distance into the rest of the field over the last couple of laps--and he blessedly lapped me to end the pain. 2nd place in the A's went to a young fellow, Eric E., who looks to be an ass-kicking mountain bike rider.
In review: in the end, I had fun. I find it ironic that the last time I raced the singlespeed, it was having mechanical issues (I tore the brake lever loose mid-race), making the geared bike feel like a rock of dependability. The chain going to crap probably has root in me not cleaning it last week: leftover goo led to the chainsuck, chainsuck led to wedging 'twixt chainring and crank, and a little torque and mashing led to twisted metal. And I don't think my derailleurs are the happiest of mechanical beasts right now. I'll try to be a good boy and fix it all...
And to put things in perspective, I had a heck of a better day than the defending US Men's cyclocross champion, who got coldcocked in a bizzare accident in the championship race today...
OK, time to finish the frickin' Christmas cards, ho ho ho...
Monday, December 10, 2007
This is not how I spent Monday
...in a way a good thing, 'cuz I would've broken something trying...hmm, day jobs...
Sunday, December 9, 2007
'Cross at Coyote Point
The beautiful thing about racing bikes at Coyote Point is that whenever you get bored, you can just look over and watch the planes land at SFO.
Given how well my race went at GGP a couple weeks ago, I tried to duplicate my race prep: arriving pretty early to pre-ride before the 35A/45A race in street clothes, then another lap and a half before the Open A race in race get-up. I then tried to find a warm-up loop, but the Polo Grounds in GGP have nothing to fear from the sketchy industrial park I found today. Still, the legs felt a lot better than they did last week, so things seemed good to go.
And boy, the Open B race started with a bang. The start was the same as in the past, with a 300yd straight on the pavement leading to uphill pavement leading to a hard right onto the dirt. I had spotted a stump on that transition corner in warm-up and thought it would mess things up, and felt vindicated when some fellow in blue (found out later it was Kea H.) went sliding off of it to block the right side of the course while I could swoop by on the left (yes!). The dusty climb up wasn't over yet, though, and before it was over I was running with the bike with my chain dropped and I'm pretty sure my front tire had roughed up someone else's rear end...and I'm not talking about his bike...
Things didn't improve through the remainder of the windy path laid out through the "Enchanted Forest" as fast straights and slow corners made for complicated forward progress. On the bright side, I seemed to be carrying a lot more speed into corners than the guys I was trying to get past. By the end of the race, that may not have been a good idea, as my corners were definitely getting sloppier, but hey, there's something there to work with.
Exiting the Forest, riders then had the gravelly sand of the beach to deal with. The first time through I ran it and lost no time. The following times through, I rode it, but it was ugly. My stupid dumb bike pride wanted to ride it every time, but I really should have been running it.
Eventually I settled into a back-and-forth, leg-burning, saddle-swinging, snot-blowing battle with Dave P. from the Altezza 40 Horde. He could outspeed me on the pavement, and I would come back on the dirt. I think. DP's a pretty respectable racer so it felt good to be sort of on par with him. At the same time, I couldn't drop him, and at every corner I could hear his tires rolling behind me, and his fans' cheers weren't letting me forget he was right there...
The rubber band snapped on the last lap: coming down the washboarded trail out of the Forest, with my arms and shoulders getting tired and my cornering getting sloppy, I lost it and crashed. No harm done really, but there's always a bit of shock and my chain was doing twisty things around my chain rings, and just my luck, nine guys were right there ready to pass me. I swung back on and managed to catch one of 'em, but there was no catching the rest. As a reference, Dave P. ended up in 13th; I got 21st out of 43.
It was fun. A wide-open course, a really mixed bag of terrain (they should try wood chips on the European courses), a little bit of star-gazing as Barry Wicks showed up to play in the dirt, and the bittersweet satisfaction of finishing the Pilarcitos series (with free socks as door prize for the 5/5 racers). The 'cross racers were, as usual, super-duper fun; heck, even the mechanics were fun. There is a tinge of regret, though, 'cuz I think I wasn't riding smart today. Riding the beach when going in running would've been faster; a rise that I was riding in the wrong gear; sloppy corners...
Bah, I was racing. Now I need to find a way to force myself to practice the snot-blowing effort that racing requires.
Given how well my race went at GGP a couple weeks ago, I tried to duplicate my race prep: arriving pretty early to pre-ride before the 35A/45A race in street clothes, then another lap and a half before the Open A race in race get-up. I then tried to find a warm-up loop, but the Polo Grounds in GGP have nothing to fear from the sketchy industrial park I found today. Still, the legs felt a lot better than they did last week, so things seemed good to go.
And boy, the Open B race started with a bang. The start was the same as in the past, with a 300yd straight on the pavement leading to uphill pavement leading to a hard right onto the dirt. I had spotted a stump on that transition corner in warm-up and thought it would mess things up, and felt vindicated when some fellow in blue (found out later it was Kea H.) went sliding off of it to block the right side of the course while I could swoop by on the left (yes!). The dusty climb up wasn't over yet, though, and before it was over I was running with the bike with my chain dropped and I'm pretty sure my front tire had roughed up someone else's rear end...and I'm not talking about his bike...
Things didn't improve through the remainder of the windy path laid out through the "Enchanted Forest" as fast straights and slow corners made for complicated forward progress. On the bright side, I seemed to be carrying a lot more speed into corners than the guys I was trying to get past. By the end of the race, that may not have been a good idea, as my corners were definitely getting sloppier, but hey, there's something there to work with.
Exiting the Forest, riders then had the gravelly sand of the beach to deal with. The first time through I ran it and lost no time. The following times through, I rode it, but it was ugly. My stupid dumb bike pride wanted to ride it every time, but I really should have been running it.
Eventually I settled into a back-and-forth, leg-burning, saddle-swinging, snot-blowing battle with Dave P. from the Altezza 40 Horde. He could outspeed me on the pavement, and I would come back on the dirt. I think. DP's a pretty respectable racer so it felt good to be sort of on par with him. At the same time, I couldn't drop him, and at every corner I could hear his tires rolling behind me, and his fans' cheers weren't letting me forget he was right there...
The rubber band snapped on the last lap: coming down the washboarded trail out of the Forest, with my arms and shoulders getting tired and my cornering getting sloppy, I lost it and crashed. No harm done really, but there's always a bit of shock and my chain was doing twisty things around my chain rings, and just my luck, nine guys were right there ready to pass me. I swung back on and managed to catch one of 'em, but there was no catching the rest. As a reference, Dave P. ended up in 13th; I got 21st out of 43.
It was fun. A wide-open course, a really mixed bag of terrain (they should try wood chips on the European courses), a little bit of star-gazing as Barry Wicks showed up to play in the dirt, and the bittersweet satisfaction of finishing the Pilarcitos series (with free socks as door prize for the 5/5 racers). The 'cross racers were, as usual, super-duper fun; heck, even the mechanics were fun. There is a tinge of regret, though, 'cuz I think I wasn't riding smart today. Riding the beach when going in running would've been faster; a rise that I was riding in the wrong gear; sloppy corners...
Bah, I was racing. Now I need to find a way to force myself to practice the snot-blowing effort that racing requires.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Canadian cuisine
I pulled out one of my mom's recipes for dinner this week: "California casserole". It definitely still qualifies as comfort food, though what Mom liked most was that she could stick in the oven before a soccer game/music lesson/other kid activity, come back 2 hours later, and take it straight out of the oven for dinner.
1 onion, peel and chop. 1 pepper (green or red), remove stem and seeds then chop. Mix in bowl with 1 pound ground beef, two 14oz cans of diced tomatoes, 1-2 cups grated cheddar. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir in 16oz of dry pasta (macaroni works well). Put mix into casserole dish, cover with foil, and bake for 1 h at 350F. Or 2 h, it'll be fine, though 325F might be better for the longer time. Remove from oven. Eat.
Using the same ingredients, you could make spaghetti with a nice meat sauce...but that would involve stirring sauce on the stovetop and boiling water and draining pasta. Far better to throw everything into one bowl, then into one casserole dish, and cook it once.
I'm not sure anyone here would call it "California casserole", mind you. As we (myself now included) know, only Midwesterners make casseroles. And it's hard to say what is exactly Californian about this casserole. But hey, comfort food is comfort food.
And comfort food was needed after bike commuting today. My timing can be really off: it's been beautiful fall weather up until, oh, Monday, but now, today, in the rain both ways, I make a point of riding my bike to work. At least (a) you always feel fast when you're riding at night, and (b) dinner was a ready-to-be-reheated plate of leftovers (casserole, of course).
1 onion, peel and chop. 1 pepper (green or red), remove stem and seeds then chop. Mix in bowl with 1 pound ground beef, two 14oz cans of diced tomatoes, 1-2 cups grated cheddar. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir in 16oz of dry pasta (macaroni works well). Put mix into casserole dish, cover with foil, and bake for 1 h at 350F. Or 2 h, it'll be fine, though 325F might be better for the longer time. Remove from oven. Eat.
Using the same ingredients, you could make spaghetti with a nice meat sauce...but that would involve stirring sauce on the stovetop and boiling water and draining pasta. Far better to throw everything into one bowl, then into one casserole dish, and cook it once.
I'm not sure anyone here would call it "California casserole", mind you. As we (myself now included) know, only Midwesterners make casseroles. And it's hard to say what is exactly Californian about this casserole. But hey, comfort food is comfort food.
And comfort food was needed after bike commuting today. My timing can be really off: it's been beautiful fall weather up until, oh, Monday, but now, today, in the rain both ways, I make a point of riding my bike to work. At least (a) you always feel fast when you're riding at night, and (b) dinner was a ready-to-be-reheated plate of leftovers (casserole, of course).
Sunday, December 2, 2007
And so it goes
All work and no play makes me a piss-poor cyclocross racer.
So I was a bit preoccupied with two full-day job interviews this past week, and hadn't had a shred of physical activity since a 20-minute jog Monday morning. Saturday afternoon, I finally changed out of the PJ's and went cruising along the creek trail for an hour...not very intense.
This morning, I get to Fort Ord for CCCX #5 with enough time to register and do a practice lap. About halfway through, I dismount to look back at a rough patch and see what's to be done--and my heart feels like it's going at 200 bpm. And I feel a bit nauseous. Yeah, body wasn't ready for any exertion.
I go off with the Men's B start at 10am. Within 20 seconds, I'm dropped by everybody by 50 yards. Things compress once we got offroad and I catch up, but by then the 35+ B wave is barking up my backside. Shortly thereafter my front wheel starts ticking; I stop and check and it's nothing; but now the 35+ B's are passing me, it's singletrack, uphill, and sandy, and there's no way I can jump back in without being a complete ass.
I never really got any faster from there, though I did spend a couple laps providing the leader of the 55+ wave with a nice draft. The sand was challenging in many corners, providing something of a California equivalent to the mud up in Portland today...but let's not try to match their rain and snow.
With no power in me, doing the singlespeed race was going to be a waste of time. I ate the sandwiches I had packed, volunteered to do some handups for xbunny, and decided to practice using my newer camera some during the Elite Men's race (a Rock Lobster festival, with the top 'Berries being out of town). The following is my first attempt at combining new camera, new computer, and Youtube, for anyone who missed today's CCCX race or just wants to relive some memories.
So I was a bit preoccupied with two full-day job interviews this past week, and hadn't had a shred of physical activity since a 20-minute jog Monday morning. Saturday afternoon, I finally changed out of the PJ's and went cruising along the creek trail for an hour...not very intense.
This morning, I get to Fort Ord for CCCX #5 with enough time to register and do a practice lap. About halfway through, I dismount to look back at a rough patch and see what's to be done--and my heart feels like it's going at 200 bpm. And I feel a bit nauseous. Yeah, body wasn't ready for any exertion.
I go off with the Men's B start at 10am. Within 20 seconds, I'm dropped by everybody by 50 yards. Things compress once we got offroad and I catch up, but by then the 35+ B wave is barking up my backside. Shortly thereafter my front wheel starts ticking; I stop and check and it's nothing; but now the 35+ B's are passing me, it's singletrack, uphill, and sandy, and there's no way I can jump back in without being a complete ass.
I never really got any faster from there, though I did spend a couple laps providing the leader of the 55+ wave with a nice draft. The sand was challenging in many corners, providing something of a California equivalent to the mud up in Portland today...but let's not try to match their rain and snow.
With no power in me, doing the singlespeed race was going to be a waste of time. I ate the sandwiches I had packed, volunteered to do some handups for xbunny, and decided to practice using my newer camera some during the Elite Men's race (a Rock Lobster festival, with the top 'Berries being out of town). The following is my first attempt at combining new camera, new computer, and Youtube, for anyone who missed today's CCCX race or just wants to relive some memories.
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