December 3,4 2011 Cyclocross in NM, TX

Greetings, Snow Bunnies (or is that Snow Bicyclists?)!

It's true, Jonathon and Kirk went for a snowy Dale Ball ride yesterday. Riding in snow is not unlike wet grass, or sticky mud, or deep sand. It saps your legs pretty quickly and provides quite the workout. Prettier, though, than any of those alternatives.

Jonathon in the Snow; Wednesday, Dec. 7

To keep your tootsies toasty on those cold weather rides, come in for a pair of Pearl Izumi wind barrier over-shoe booties. They are fleece lined shoe covers designed to pull on over your mountain bike shoes or your road shoes. When you come in, make sure you grab the right style as they differ.  Jonathon's toes were quite cold after the above ride, so Santa is putting a pair of these in his stocking. Don't tell him that, though!

HOLIDAY HOURS: RETAIL and INDOOR CYCLING

SpinDoc's retail hours will adhere to our existing schedule, even on Saturday, Dec. 24th for all you last minute shoppers (we will be open from 10 AM to 4 PM that day).  Remember to shop locally and bring your business to your small local shops instead of big box stores or online sellers. 

Bruce will present a special class on Wednesday, Dec. 21st at 6:00 PM featuring, in his own inimitable style, a playlist of holiday music. I am unsure if he is providing the eggnog or not. Jonathon's new class on Thursday evenings, 6:00 PM, will also be chock full of holiday tunes on Dec. 22nd. 

The class schedule will remain the same, too, except Christmas Day, Sunday, Dec. 25th there will be NO CLASS and 

on Monday, Dec. 26th there will be ONE CLASS ONLY, at 10:00 AM. Saturday, Dec. 24th classes will run at 9:00 AM and 10:00 AM as usual.  Tuesday, Dec. 27th returns to full class scheduling. 

The following week for New Years, there will be NO CLASS on Sunday, January 1st.  Classes on Monday, Jan. 2nd resume full schedule, including the 6 AM class. 

If you are unsure about a class, call SpinDoc at 466-4181.

CYCLOCROSS RACE REPORT

The season is quickly wrapping up, but not before lots of mud was to be had. Mud is an imperative component in 'cross. Kirk, shop buddy Sean, and I left SpinDoc mid-afternoon on Friday, Dec. 2nd thinking we'd be heading south (Saturday's race was in Las Cruces) and therefore away from the anticipated snow storm. By Socorro it was snowing steadily; by T or C we were slowed to 45 MPH, unable to see the lines on the road, and amazed at the snow coverage on the ground. We only saw one vehicle off the road, but didn't want to add to those numbers. Finally the snow turned to rain as we continued south, and it was raining steadily as we pulled in to Las Cruces. 

I am unsure when the rain stopped in the night, but we woke to clear skies and very wet ground.  It was quite chilly as we loaded ourselves into the truck to drive to the race venue, a large field of weeds. it wasn't as goat head laden as last year, and the course was only slightly different. We'd gotten my race time wrong, but to our advantage the organizers were running a full hour late as they'd had to redo part of the course due to the rain. if I had to guess, they rearranged the course to include the puddles and mud bogs scattered around the field. My shoes had been left at the hotel, but Tove helped me scout out a loaner pair of someone riding the race after mine. (Thanks again, Sara!) An extra pair of socks took up the extra space, and we did a pre-ride of the course.  It consisted mostly of snaking back and forth across the field with lots of switchbacks and turns (but none were very tight). The course passed through every puddle or bit of wet, muddy grass possible. The first was the deepest; riding the right side of the switchback took you through a deep puddle of brown water that had holes and bumps not visible from above. I hit those a few times but managed to ride through on my fat tires; Tove, however, did a full face plant on her first loop, right into the deepest part of the water. She said all that was lacking was her rubber ducky.  

This was a hard, hard ride for me. My legs felt like lead pipes instead of bones. I was quickly left behind, but reminded myself I was riding my own ride. My goal was to not get passed by the lead rider until I'd finished my first lap, and I didn't get passed until half way through my second lap. The temp was dropping noticeably, and my toes where frozen in spite of sweating. I kept trying to catch a guy in front of me, but just didn't have it. I wasn't sorry when the leader passed me a second time right as I approached the start/finish, and was called out as done. I don't know how many laps I did; I find I completely lose track as I'm just focused on riding. Maybe four, maybe five. The leaders in my group rode 6.

The masters rode next. I unfortunately was in the truck changing out of wet clothing and missed the excitement at the start of their race. No one is sure what happened, but a first row rider fell as the race started, and those behind him couldn't avoid literally riding over him. We didn't hear stories of horrible injuries later, so I assume the guy was okay. Those folks rode hard, flying around the field and through the mud. Kirk's Lapierre lost use of the back brakes, so a fast pit stop put him on the Redline to finish the ride. Not suited up with the same tires as the Lapierre, he took a spill on the one u-turn around a cone on concrete. He was back on the bike so fast that if one hadn't watched it, one would not have known he'd gone down.  I didn't get as muddy as the others simply because I didn't ride it as fast as they did, plus the course gets muddier as more bikes ride over the course and break up the weedy overgrowth. Kirk, Tove, Jerry and Sean all were covered with mud by the end. 

We stopped by a car wash after lunch to hose off the bikes.

There simply CAN'T be two more laps!

Kirk, looking a little muddy, coming in to the barriers

Tove, Sean and Kirk, post-race

Even muddier from behind!

How Tove and Jerry spend their free time

Washing off the bikes at the car wash

After showers and what not, we reconvened at La Posta, the one restaurant recommended to us by several people. The food was good (but not great), and we had a fun, lively dinner with Tove, Jerry, Sean and some friends of his.

Sunday's race was in El Paso, so by 8:30 we were on the road. The race venue was a lovely city park that include lots of built-in landscape features promising lots of climbing. I was happy to be on my mountain bike as the course would have been even more challenging on a cross bike. As it was, I was apprehensive as we set out for the pre-ride. And, like the night cross course, I suspect there were some features included that wouldn't really get the approval of the national cyclocross head honchos. From the start/finish, one immediately rode up a hill, down the other side, over two small whoop-de-doos to take a 90 degree right and head up a blacktop walking path. That little climb was in many ways the most taxing part of the course as one had just come off that initial starting climb on the grass. Once at the top, a right turn took one to a recovery stretch, circling back around and riding down three wide concrete steps. Not long after that was a steep loose descent -- very steep -- at the bottom of which one took a large swooping u-turn to ride back to the bottom and run back up the hill next to where one had just ridden down. (The more experienced racers took a slightly different route, which I would have tried had I known. Since this part of the course wasn't delineated on both sides, they rode further to the left and to a less steep lower section, enabling them to stay on the bikes much  longer and run up a much shorter distance.) At the top of the hill a short flat ride took one to the two barriers. They were of different heights, which was awkward, and immediately after them were four rough, narrow stone steps dropping off to an off-camber hill side. That was certainly the trickiest part of the course, and the one place a junior rider suffered an injury (potential broken thumb). I took my time through that section, that's for certain. The lower part of the course snaked back and forth through large trees, sometimes on hard packed dirt, sometimes on loose powdery dirt, sometimes over tree roots, sometimes around gopher holes. Suddenly you came up to a sharp narrow hard right leading onto a stone bridge. After crossing the bridge, you rode down and around to the left, jumped another barrier, and then ran under the bridge; the highest part of the arch was probably 5 ft. I don't think anyone smacked their heads, but it was certainly a possibility that someone would.  From there a ride up/run up lead to the start/finish. 

I went first with my group, and discovered at the start line that I was the only Cat 3/4 woman starting at all. That meant that all I had to do was finish to win! Cool! I worked hard, riding as hard and steady as I could, taking off with the group (my goal for the day was not being left behind at the start) and not getting passed by the leader until half way through my second lap. The hill descent was unnerving, but I took it with as much speed as I could, and pushed the Breezer up the other side (I didn't shoulder the bike as is the 'cross method -- a mountain bike is a little heavy for that).  At the top I didn't clip in as I knew the barriers where right around the bend, and took my time crossing 'em and stepping down the four stone stairs. The lower part was great for practicing my turns/switchbacks and getting some recovery. The sharp turn onto the bridge was very challenging; by the fourth and fifth laps I was mostly making it, deflecting the left wall with a hand. On my last lap I made it without any hands. Whew.

The masters race was next, and Kirk was riding the Redline, his pit bike, with the Breezer as the pinch-hit pit bike for the race. All had a good, strong ride.  The Redline went the distance, so the Breezer stayed in the pit the whole race.

Riding up the hill from the start/finish line

Kirk coming down the steep hill -- it doesn't look so steep from here! In the background you can see a rider climbing the hill.

Kirk hits the gnarliest part of the course. He's jumping the second barrier, and in the shadows are the three stone steps to run down.

Jerry winds through the trees.

Kirk comes off the narrow stone bridge.

Tove starts another lap.

Races over, we hit the road towards home, stopping for a fabulous meal in T or C, and getting home as the temps plummeted in Santa Fe. 

Two more Albuquerque events finish the local season, then it's USA National Championships and maybe on to Worlds. Maybe we'll see some of you there!

Best regards,

Kirk, Chandler and Jonathon

Night 'Cross Race Report, November 19, 2011:

About five days before the once-per-season night time cross race, Kirk told me there was a fun non-competitive women-only ride that would be held at 4:40 (dusk, not night) at the race course. That sounded like the perfect way to try my hand at riding the all-terrain course that Cross always is, and I looked forward to the event. For an extra five bucks you could even have a "bike butler" who would take your bike up the run-ups. That's where I draw the line, and declared I'd run my bike up myself, thank you very much. 

Well, teaching class on Saturday morning it occurred to me that it was completely impractical to ride the 4:40 event. SpinDoc doesn't close until 4, the ride was in Albuquerque, and Kirk's race wasn't scheduled until something like 7:40, leaving way too much time between the two events. Suddenly I was looking at going for a bike ride in the middle of a bunch of racers. Hmmmm.  

As soon as we arrived in Albuquerque -- and yes, it was already dark -- my first view of the course was a 180 degree switch-back, slightly off camber. Switchbacks aren't my forte on a flat road, much less a grassy, leaf-covered off camber dark corner of a middle school playing field. I resumed my "maybe I'll just watch" posture -- but the next thing I know Kirk is getting me registered, getting my number, and I'm getting dressed. 

Lucky for me, we got to pre-ride the course, and I followed Kirk as he gave me pointers on handling turns, sand, bark, and stair run ups. I practiced my dismount, and simply conceded I wouldn't be doing cross-style remounts, making my time right there and then molasses-slow. That's okay; I wasn't there to race, just to go for a bike ride. The real racers run along side the bike, and literally jump on it while it's moving; not me. I swing a leg over, struggle to bring the right pedal up to the power pedal position, then get rolling. Ah, such finesse! 

Then, I'm in the back of a pack of riders of all ages, sizes and abilities. Next to me are a couple of kids on 20" bikes that couldn't have been more than 6 or 7. (And yes, they beat me over the finish line!) At the whistle everyone takes off like a bat out of hell; I let 'em go, got rolling, and headed up the pavement driveway behind the middle school, over speed bump after speed bump, It was kinda dark as that part wasn't really lit, and at the far end one circled a concrete turn-around. It was wide, so I took the extra time to go wide and stay stable-feeling. From there, one headed back towards the playing fields, and the other riders were far enough ahead of me it was kind of hard to tell where to go. I was pretty apprehensive, and was so slow getting there that someone crossing the course asked, "Are you racing???" Well, no, I'm not. 

From there you headed out on the grass, took an easy turn to the right around the pit (pit stop that is, bikes can be damaged to the point of being unridable and cyclocross is the only race discipline where you have a spare bike in a central area so you can change bikes during the race if need be), then up to what for me was by far the most challenging section: after a right turn on a grassy hill,  you had to ride a very narrow sharp left switchback. Right above it stood many onlookers, all cheering everyone on. I had been counseled to simply unclip and put the inside foot down to scoot the bike through the switchback. I did so; at the top was an older heavy bearded man who said something to the effect of "keep going, you've got it, believe in it!" or something equally supportive. Hopefully I grinned at him. Who knows -- I just was trying not to panic, and remember I was doing this for fun. 

From there you hoped a bit of a curb to ride through a corner of bark-filled playground, across a concrete walkway, and down off the other side into more bark. From there, you headed to the first set of stairs and forced dismount. I wasn't exactly fast on my dismounts, but did it nonetheless, swinging my right leg over the saddle as the bike approached the bottom of the stairs. I was very proud of myself. I picked up the bike, and ran up the shallow, long steps to the top, put the bike down, and struggle to get that right pedal where I wanted it to resume. From there was a little descent onto grass, then off towards that switchback that I first eyed on arrival. I took it wide going in, as instructed, and took my time, and never felt unsure of that turn at all. From there you could get a little speed along a grassy straightaway, then up to the left, putting us back on concrete. 

Then came a drop off a curb into deep bark, riding through swing sets and other playground gear. As Kirk pointed out later, there was lots of room for a hard crash in that section if one slid into a swing set leg. As the laps progressed, the ruts through the bark got deeper and deeper. Coming out to the right from the bark, you had to get back up a curb; the first time I rode it, the second I missed and it cost me more time fumbling for stability than it would to put a foot down and lift up the front wheel, which is what I did on subsequent laps. 

Taking an easy sweeping turn to the left from there you landed in a very deep sand pit. I have no idea what it was used for on the playground; too small for volley ball, it was built for some specific purpose. That sand was deep. I usually ride sand well, but at best only got about 3/4 of the way across the length before having to dismount and run. It's just as well, as the curb up on the other side was beyond my comfort. (My mountain bike coaches at SheRide would be disappointed in me; we spent plenty of time practicing just that. Oh well.) Riding down a hill led further out along the chain link fence, a sandy switchback, and then an approach to another set of stairs. (Jonathon, Iraset and her sister and friends where stationed at the top of the stairs; it was great to have the cheering section, as it also was where another switchback was. They could encourage you twice from that spot.) At the top, after remounting you'd ride back down the hill you just ran up, take some broad sweeping turns out on the grass, then back towards the hills for another off-camber switchback. Not quite as tight as the first one, it nonetheless stymied me the first couple of tries.  Back down the hill, out to the far end of the field and onto some hard packed dirt, the last challenge was jumping the pair of barriers. . .that thoughtfully had been set up in another sand pit! Again, it was deep sand, too, coming off a curb. The sand made the barriers seem even higher than they were, and I admit it was challenging to get the Breezer up and over without banging. Needless to say, I didn't exactly run the barriers, but I handled them as efficiently as I could. From there, you hit the pavement where the ride started, and headed out again over the speed bumps.

I was on my way out to the turnaround at the start of my second lap when I got lapped. Hey, at least I finished my first lap without getting lapped! 

From there I started to feel a little more comfortable. I started trying to plan for the upcoming challenges, trying to choose the best path, trying to gear down sufficiently for that first tight switchback. Missed it the second time, but the heavy guy cheered anyway. As riders came by, they were all careful about announcing their passing, and a few even offered encouragement as they went past. I got a bit faster with each lap, and enjoyed it more and more. I have no idea how many laps I did -- I thought it was four, but maybe it was five because I recall I couldn't even get a good try at the tight switchback the third time because a rider in front of me went down on it, so I just dismounted and ran the way around -- but I DID end up riding it twice, which was a very exciting accomplishment. On the last two laps I got the other switchback, too. 

Believe it or not, I don't think I was last over the finish line (although I'm pretty certain I was second to last). I did pass a young teen aged girl, and although we swapped spots for a bit on one lap, I finally got out ahead of her and stayed there. 

Kirk's race was next. Having just ridden the course, it was impressive to see the speed at which these guys ride, how fast they approach the stairs and the barriers, how they actually ride the entire sand pit and then bunny hop the front wheel up the curb and out of it.  I saw one guy wipe out hard on the bark in the swing set area, but he didn't hit any playground equipment and got back on to finish his ride. 

Halfway through, we all got a surprise: suddenly the in-ground sprinkler system went off.  Four streams of water started pouring out from the top of the hill, right where the announcer's booth was. At first we thought it was a gag, but it became apparent that it was not planned as part of the race. The juniors discovered that big orange road-work cones over the sprinkler heads stopped the water flying, and forced it to simply seep out the bottom. The racers just kept going, water or no. Then those fun-loving juniors discovered they could target each racer by lifting up one side of the cone to strategically spray a rider as he made the second switchback. It was pretty hilarious, and everyone was game, riders and sprayers alike. They were pretty soaked when the race concluded though. Kirk, Tove, Jerry and shop friend Sean all had great rides. 

After changing we had a late, yummy sushi dinner on the west side of town, then made the drive home to Santa Fe. I had so much fun I'm going to do it again! I'll stick with the nice stable fat tires of my Breezer, though, thank-you-very-much. 

I apologize for the lack of photos. Next time.

Best to all, 

Kirk, Chandler and Jonathon