Bier en modder

One thing to note before I recap…Kenji may be interested. After extensive testing from Portland to Blodgett, I suggest that the official speed rating of OBRA MTB plates be set at 70 mph. 75-80 is not recommended.

That said, with the rain and funky weather of the past week, the course and conditions were bound to be challenging. I packed up the night before to head out by 7 Sunday am.

On the way down, there were near whiteout conditions through Salem. I began to second-guess my clothing approach (legs: shirts under knicker bibs + warming salve. upper: capilene t-shirt beneath racing shirt + wool arm warmers). Heading on Rt 20 up to Blodgett, the snow changed from a dusting to a full inch or so. If I couldn’t see my bike on the back of the car, I would have assumed I was going spring tele skiing.

Got the the course, signed in and warmed up a bit. I was cold, right on the edge of being too cold, particularly with a chilly and wet downhill to the starting line.  I kept telling myself that you should start a race a little cold with the intent that you’ll warm up once the race is underway.

Mike Ripley takes us down to the start.  After a few minutes of doinking around, we (the expert field) are off.  We head up.  And up.  And up some more.  I want to keep our field in sight for as long as I can.  Given it’s an uphill start, I feel pretty confidant about that.

Some of the SS’ers catch up and pass us.  I find maybe half of them walking up the stairstep hills.  By the time we enter the singletrack – maybe 1-2 miles in – the field has thinned out.  I’m around 4 or 5 other experts and we have a fairly decent pace.  I’m guessing we’re in the middle or top third of our group.

We weave our way up and around to the big/small lap split at the top of a hill where they have water and a little bonfire.  It’s around 4 miles in.  I’m warmed up, not working too hard, and feel solid on my bike.  My bike, to it’s credit, is holding up well.

The course noodles around a bit more before we enter a more serious singletrack downhill.  The singletrack was pretty slick, as expected.  Rideable by some, but definitely not all.  There’s movement back and forth within our group as better descenders move to the front.  I’m not too worried.  I go as fast as I can downhill, which isn’t that fast at all.  So I keep telling myself – what goes down must go up.

It was here that I discovered that one of the wings on my Eggbeaters was gone, essentially making half the pedal ineffective.  Clipping in on the left side now took a little more attention than just finding the ball of the foot and pushing down.  I now had to make sure that the 3 remaining wings were pointing up before trying to clip in.

After a short unrideable ascent around mile 9, we head out into a gradual downhill on a gravel logging road.  I vaguely remember coming out ahead of our group so I tried to expand that gap.  Coming up on a 90° turn, I thought to myself ‘ I am coming in way too hot…’ and then I went down.  Hard.

I have a guideline that when I’m racing, I can generally ignore a substantial amount of discomfort or injury for the sake of competing.  I know if I need to take a second (or more) after a crash then it’s likely not good.  After about 10 seconds I got up, picked my bike up (while 6 people passed me), and realized I no longer had the use of my right thumb.  My left shoulder hurt where I went down but the right thumb was useless.  Not good.

I remounted and continued on.  The remaining 2 miles of the lap was mostly downhill through a mossy, muddy singletrack.  I took it with one foot out, straddling the top tube as I braked and made a controlled slide down.  It was actually faster than walking and arguably faster than I could have ridden it.

At the lap point I had to do a mental check.  My lap split was 1:15 and energy-wise, feeling good.  I was a little rattled from the crash but I still wanted to go on.  I was currently unable to shift my rear derailleur with my thumb or grip the handlebar very tightly.  If I was going to drop out, it would have to be here.  I was disappointed by how Horning’s went and felt things were good enough to continue on.

The second lap didn’t go so hot.  The shifting, as expected, was sluggish since I had to use my index finger to push the thumb shifter levers.  I wasn’t able to attack the hills like I normally do, shifting accordingly to keep a strong cadence going.  Downhill I was even more skittish than usual, taking another hard fall after I was unable to react fast enough.  Plus I rode that lap mostly alone.  I honestly thought that I’d get caught by race organizers sweeping the course.

After a painful second lap, I limped up to the finish at 2:58 or so – a lap 2 split of about 1:45.  I had the EMT at the finish take a quick look at my hand.  She strongly recommended an x-ray.  It hurt but only if I used it.  I felt if it was broken, there would have been no way I could have ridden another 13 miles.

Monday I went for x-rays.  The Dr. was convinced the metecarpal was broken but x-rays came back negative.  I’m left with a swollen hand that looks like one of the Simpsons.

Final result?  11th out of 15 or 16.  One broken pedal and a banged up hand that will likely keep me off a bike for a few days.

Got the green light for Mudslinger yesterday and put the registration in the mail. My only hope is that the bike will be put back together. There’s been a number of little things that I’ve noticed that need a little attention. I spent some of the weekend trying to correct a few of them.

First was a wobbly rear cassette. Dismantled the rear hub and took it off to find enough pitting in the cups and play in the freewheel that it was time to go. RCB didn’t have a replacement in stock Sunday so one’s on order and should be here Wednesday.

Second was the rear dropout area. For some reason, the rear wheel axle has been slowly digging into the front of the right side dropout. The result is that the rear wheel tracking is off the midline of the frame. I’m guessing that it’s a result of a few things – 1. an aluminum frame, 2. insufficiently tightened QR skewer, 3. too much play in the dropouts, and 4. a lot of torque rotating the wheel counterclockwise around the left dropout.

I picked up some JB Weld and used it to fill in the pitted area. I’ll work on shaping it tomorrow with the Dremel tool. It would be very nice if the JB Weld stuff held. It’s pretty rock solid but I don’t know what kind of forces it’ll be subjected to.

Last is a pretty beat up bottom bracket / crank area. I didn’t have time to take the cranks off to get a closer look. I may do that later this week, depending on how the hub repacking and dropout shaping goes. The soft metal of the crank arms are in danger of being cross-threaded and stripped by the crank puller.

I just recently read that there’s an outside potential to use a cross bike at Mudslinger. It wouldn’t be my first choice but it’s a backup if need be.

I do also need to keep in mind that I’m trying to coax a 10 year old mountain bike that has been used for winter commuting a few years and marginally maintained during that time into service as a ‘performance’ XC bike. It’s a good bike, not a great one and I’m definitely paying for maintenance sins of the past. However, it’s the only mtb I have now and as long as I feel it’s safe, I’ll race it.

The short of it is that I’m approaching Do Not Resuscitate status with this bike with the intention of upgrading next spring. I don’t want to start looking too hard yet but I’m guessing there’s a 90% chance I’ll go with a 29′er. Gary Fischer has a bunch and Specialized has one too – in an XXL size too.

Had a Brew Crew meeting last night. It was supposed to be at Hopworks but got moved. Hopworks is crazy busy right now and it seemed to me a bit foolish to jam 120+ OBC members in there to stink up the joint. The Prez made a last minute change back to our usual meeting place, Steinbarts. It’s a good thing we don’t have smell-o-vision on the Internets because nearly half the membership soiled their pants when they heard. It was a pretty low-key meeting. I would have skipped it if I didn’t need to pick up free ingredients for a couple batches this weekend.

I’m pretty glad we’re getting a little break from the wet. Wednesday was just about my tipping point. Soaked on the way in. Soaked on my noon lunchtime ride (complete with flat tire). Soaked on the way home. The hot tub heater pump gave up the ghost last week and it’s on it’s way back to CA for warranty repair, so I’ve got no love there either.

But things are looking up though:

I have a Forest Park lunchtime ride planned today, which should be delightful especially with the weather forecast. I’d like to get out to do FR 3. I’ll stop by Fat Tire on the way back in to pick up a middle chainring. I really hope that’s the source of the chain suck I’ve been having in muddy conditions.

I got my nitro regulator and tap in, getting me 2/3’s of the way towards having ales on nitro. A goal for the weekend is to find a tank. There’s an AirGas not too far from my place in SE. I’ll try there first.

Rach’s mom will likely take the kids for a night next weekend, possibly clearing me for Mudslinger that Sunday.

Plus, it’s supposed to be a nice weekend.

And lastly, thanks to YouTube, I’ve finally come across an old favorite commercial of mine: The Coffee Achievers!

Guy 1: “So I caught my daughter’s stomach bug and spent all of Friday night throwing up”
Guy 2: “You still raced on Sunday, right?”
Guy 1: “Oh, sure.”
[Close-up of the bike he's riding, the label reads: BAD IDEA BIKES]

Yeah, so that about sums it up.  Friday night was about as bad as it gets.  Everyone, except Ingrid, was sick in some form that night.  I spent Saturday loafing around not eating.  I finally had come chicken soup, 1 chicken breast, and a baked potato.  I did get some rest that night and felt good enough Sunday morning to at least suit up and give Hornings a try.  The course was in a lap format so if I felt like shit, it would be easier to just drop out.  So I loaded up the car and headed out.

I lined up with the other couple dozen or so pro/semi-pro/experts.  I expected a bigger field this close in to town but I guess not.  Maybe we have more roadies here.  The course was a 4.5 mile figure 8.  I was estimating somewhere around 30 minute laps.  Even sick, I hoped to stay relatively close to the pack.
We started in a quasi-, disorganized neutral up a short 150m hill, down through a little field and into the woods again.  That’s where the mud was waiting.  We wound up and down and around.  Lots of spinouts, toe-dabs, and slideouts.  Pretty sloppy.  If these classes are having issues with the course already, it’s going to make for a sloppy day.

After about 10 minutes of this, I’m laboring hard but I’m somewhere in the middle 3rd of the pack.  I can see a majority of the field maybe 100-200m ahead.  My HR is right at my AT which is completely unsustainable for 2+ hours.  After another few minutes, we pass by the crossing area and eventually head up the road.  My legs felt good as I moved up a few spots.  Ideally I would have picked this area to attack each lap.  But realistically I was running on very low energy reserves.

At the top of the road, the course headed into downhill single track.  It was loose mud and after one or two stretches of it, I remembered that you needed to treat it like loose sand: hit the rear brakes, do NOT use the front, and do a controlled slide down.  Once I handled that, the descents went easy.

Back through the crossing area we headed up through the parking area into the back section.  I was a little rested from the downhill.  I wasn’t thinking about position too much but I think I held ground back there. Downhill is my personal Waterloo.  If I can not lose spots in a downhill, I’m feeling pretty good about myself.

The back section…sucked.  I didn’t measure it but I’d say it was a solid mile of ~200m long sliding descents to unrideable ascents.  A bunch of us would slide down to the bottom, get off, slog up to the top, remount and do it again.  Each uphill run is quickly draining what little energy I have left.

We hit the river crossing where a few photographers were waiting.  Unfortunately the little uphill after the river was also too slick to ride so it didn’t look like much of a photo op there.  After a short uphill, we made it back to the start of the lap by the grandstand.  Total time: 45 min.

At this point, I dropped out.  I saw that I wasn’t racing anymore but barely hanging on.  Some of the sport class had caught me on the last uphill after the river crossing.  My HR was still pegged and I thought 2-3 more laps of this could turn dangerous, especially as my lap times would only get larger.  Plus, it simply ceased being fun with the amount of time I had to spend off the bike.

So what did I take away from this?

First, I need to put any conclusions in perspective.  I was sick, very low on energy reserves, and just slightly on the irritable side.  I’d like to be able to look back and see what it would have been like if I’d been fully healthy and ready to go.

• I can’t say I was crazy about the course.  I feel that the field of pro/semi-pro/expert riders should be highly skilled at riding nearly every terrain.  There were just a little too may sections where no amount of skills or equipment (i.e. mud tires) would have helped.  I don’t think this should be a cross race but I also don’t want to push my bike around.  I’m making this judgment not so much on how I rode but on how most of the people around me were riding.  It wasn’t pretty.  It’s not anyone’s fault but it’s just the way the course conditions played out with the rain we got Friday and Saturday.
• I don’t regret heading out there and racing.  Neither do I regret dropping out.  For my health and safety, it was the wise thing to do.  I’m bummed that I had to because I love competing and absolutely hate quitting (almost to a fault).
• I’d heard later that the pros were putting in 30 minute laps.  Had I been healthy, I could have put in maybe a 35 min. lap at best.  I spent much of the course reacting instead of attacking.  Reaction times were off.  There was no snap in my legs.  I walked where I would have normally jogged.  And areas of the course where I would look to move up, I was content to hold ground.
• In spite of all the sickness, I’m not in bad shape at all.

I’m off workouts until I can get some food back in me.  Tandoor (downtown) has an outstanding Indian buffet.  I’ll be reloading there for lunch today and hopefully should be ready to resume training rides tomorrow.  Mudslinger is a possibility in 2 weeks.  I need to see if I can make the time.

As of 7 am this morning, there was a little squall moving in.  Looking out my window at work now (7:45), it looks like it’s here.  The forecast for the next week on NOAA has better than 50% chance of rain.  For those of you who were considering planting your tomatoes and basil this weekend, I’d reconsider.

Ingrid was barfy the past couple days, so it was my turn to stay home with her.  Apparently a bug has been going around her preschool.  Great.  I think I washed the top 3 layers of skin off my hands throughout the day.  She was mostly better yesterday so with the nice weather we went out to do some errands.

We ended up at River City to look for a tire for this weekend (Hornings).  I checked Fat Tire Farm earlier in the week.  They had a decent selection but nothing just right.  They had plenty of UST (which I don’t have), huge DH tires, and a small selection of 29′ers.  They had a bunch of straight 26″ but like I said, nothing really grabbed my eye.

Bike Gallery had maybe 8-10 tires total for anything resembling XC racing or training.  River City had a fair selection.  After a few minutes of comparing, I ended up with the Michelin A/T.  I was hoping for the Mud but they didn’t carry it.

Kris Schamp noted earlier in the week that the course wasn’t that muddy so I’m hoping the A/T’s work.  With rain in the forecast, who knows.  FR1 in Forest Park was fairly soft and loose on Tuesday.  I’ll bring a couple of my extras.  I’ve got a front Velociraptor lying around.  Not the fastest tire in the world but it works.  I forget the others.  Anyway, I’m going to try to get there early and look at the course.

So to finalize my prep for Sunday, I made sure my excuses were in order:

1. Significant recent component change (switch from grip shifters to new SRAM X.9 trigger shifters): Check
2. Erratic and slightly disorganized early-season training schedule: Check.
3. First race of the year: Check.
4. Upgrade to new category (sport to expert): Check.

I’d say everything is in order.  I’ll check back in Sunday or Monday with the details.

I’ve been following the sprinting thread on the OBRA list over the past few days.  It was arguably a carbon copy of the discussion that went on last year (which I started, I’m proud to say).

First, I like POC.  It’s a smart man’s PIR where the narrow roads force you to think pretty far down the road.  As far as the course itself goes, it’s exactly as advertised – flat.

However Cat 4’s and 5’s are frequently described as anything but smart.

I raced POC in ‘06 and ‘07.  In ‘06 I learned that sitting in doesn’t get you anywhere.  I checked my HR throughout the race and found it barely cracked 150 and creeped up into the 160’s when I took a couple turns at the front.  I also learned that it was necessary to start moving up front on the last lap as we turned north on Dike Rd.
In ‘07 I decided that if you didn’t do something, POC could just as well be an organized 2 hour training ride.  In the middle of the 1st (of 2) laps, I decided to make a break for a bit to warm up and raise the HR.  Someone came with me and I suggested we take 30 sec. pulls to stay away.  I knew the break wouldn’t last but it would be nice to stretch it out.

A couple minutes into it, we round the corner by the finish line and he takes off in a sprint.  I’m guessing that he thought this was the only lap we’d do.  Anyway, I kept my steady pace and let him go. He crosses the finish and sits up.  I pass him and say “One more lap, big guy” and keep going.  Like I said, no one ever said Cat 5’s were smart.

So I’m on my own for 5 minutes.  Then 10 minutes.  And then 15 minutes as I head south on Dike Road.  The pack is probably 200 m back and I finally let up.  I don’t have the gas to stay away another 12 miles so the pack catches up.

I stayed in the front 10 or so until Dike Road turned east at the bottom of the figure 8 course.  I then made a mistake of drifting back to the middle of the pack to save energy.  I think most of the Portland Velo team made a move up towards the front.  Thinking I had plenty of time to move up, I stayed put.

As we rounded Kuhnis Rd to Whalen, the pack started to lock up pretty tight.  I was maybe 5-6 rows back.  The pack started grumbling but nobody made a move.  About 100 m before the last corner, the pace picked up and a few lanes opened up.  I was at maybe 95% at that point.  The front couple rows had already started their sprint and were still about 20-30 m ahead.  There’s no way I could make up that ground.  Sprinting for 15th place seemed a little silly so I backed off.

So what’s the verdict on this approach?  I still think making a break was good.  Plus it was kind of fun.  Obviously not staying up near the front wasn’t wise but what experience do I have to draw from that would have told me different?

I guess if you’re going to commit to contend for the sprint, get your shit together on Dike Road as you’re heading south.  Yes, it’s about 6-8 miles out but better a little too early than too late.  Who knows, with people moving into and holding position that far out, a race might actually break out.