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

2011 Denver Urban Assault Ride

Hello, fellow two-wheelers (and some three-wheelers, too)!

We're back from our mini-vacation in Denver. I've never spent that much time in Denver, and decided I like it. Wouldn't want to live there -- I'm pretty sure my big city days are over -- but look forward to future visits.

Thursday post-drive found us at a Rockies/Braves game. We had great seats near first base, and had a blast. It was Lauren's first major league baseball game and, having hit a few home runs herself at school, I think she enjoyed the experience. Friday found us at Water World, my first experience at a water park. Denver has been in the upper 90s, so spending a day there was great. Again, a great time was had by us all. We'd asked each girl for something they'd particularly like to do in Denver, and Lauren had chosen a hike up to the summit of Mt. Evans, a 14er west of town. We never found out if it's just a popular ride or if there was an event, but there were many, many cyclists making the 30 mile ride to the parking lot below the summit. Generally the grade wasn't super steep, or if it angled up it wasn't for long, but it would make for a long, taxing ride for sure. For me the hardest part would be the long, fast and winding descent. . . . particularly along the exposed sections of road. The drop-offs were so steep and exposed that even riding in the car was nerve wracking for me. But it was SO worth it; the short hike to the top rewarded one with amazing 360 degree views.

The next day, Sunday, was the day of the Urban Assault Ride but, in what is becoming Rhinehart tradition, we had to go into the event sleep deprived. This time it was the hotel's fire alarm system going off at about 1:15 AM. If you have never heard a hotel fire alarm go off, it is the loudest, shrillest, most piercing sound out there. I stuck my head in the hall to see people with hastily packed suitcases running out the nearby exit, the emergency lights in the hall blinking like strobe lights, and the alarm was even louder out there than in our room. No smoke or fumes were present, and upon checking at the front desk Kirk learned that it was a false alarm. I was thankful that the sprinkler system hadn't gone off too. It seemed like forever before they got the sound turned off --the fire department had to come to the premises to turn it off --although it probably wasn't really that long. My ears were ringing so much that it took a while to fall back asleep. Nonetheless we were up at 6 in order to be downtown early in anticipation of parking difficulties. No problem with that, and we had plenty of time to get set for riding.

So here's what this event is: Although it's timed, it really isn't as much a race as it is a critical mass scavenger hunt. One is given seven specific locations around town at which one must stop and perform some task, after which one rides on to the next location. This being the case, you are responsible for determining your own route. There were two mystery locations; a clue was provided for one of them before the event, and the clue for the second is given at the first mystery checkpoint. Not knowing Denver, we stopped at Target on Saturday to purchase a street map, stickers to mark the checkpoints and sharpies to draft a route. We were permitted one cell phone too so I had entered all the street addresses into a notepad from which they would open in google maps. We easily identified the first mystery check point from the clue, a photo posted on the internet. The checkpoints were bike shops, parks, schools, and (since the major sponsor is New Belgium) a couple of pubs. After much debate, we decided most people would head to the first mystery checkpoint in order to determine where the second mystery checkpoint was, and that would result in a "traffic" jam. Instead, we headed south and knocked out two checkpoints fairly quickly. At the first stop, a pub, we had to stack yoga blocks that were imprinted with the Clif bar logo on a saucer sled and lift it up overhead. Once done, we were given a plastic pony bead to add to a chain provided at the start of the ride. The second checkpoint was in a park, where the biggest slip-n-slide I've ever seen was spread down a little hill. Helmets were required to be worn the entire time, but shoes were removed and down the wet slip-n-slide we went.

By this time we'd already discovered that none of the rules of the ride were being obeyed by probably half the participants. Red lights were blown through, sidewalks were ridden to avoid the one-way streets, stop signs were ignored. So much for honor! It wasn't that Kirk and I thought we were going to win, but it is a matter of doing the right thing. Oh well. This topic would be raised again later at another checkpoint.

From there we hit the first mystery checkpoint, and got the clue for the second. It was a color print-out on an 8 1/2 x 11 piece of paper of part of what appeared to be a sign. Part of the image was definitely a bicycle, and then there was a red corner that appeared it could be part of a letter. That was it. Hmm, not much to go on, especially for out-of-towners. We decided not to spend time working on it then and there, and instead jumped back on our bikes to head for the next checkpoint hoping we would see something signaling the second mystery checkpoint on the way..

The next checkpoint was at a swimming pool. The challenge there was to find one each of three types of beer cans (full) that had sunk to the bottom of the pool. So, fully dressed (except shoes) we jumped into the pool to start looking for cans. They were surprisingly hard to see at the bottom of the pool, and I found the first one by thinking it was a drain cover on the bottom. Another guy in the pool who was holding two cans, was yelling to his teammate what he had, and I heard that they had one duplicate. He quickly handed it over to me. Kirk found another can -- it was the third type. Done! Collect the pony bead, and head out to add it to our chain. We determined at the start of the ride that one had to be careful when adding the pony beads to the chain to do it over a hard flat surface. Many checkpoints were grass, and it occurred to us that a dropped chain and scattered pony beads on grass would be a big fat drag. So once out to the sidewalk, Kirk pulled out the chain and pony beads to add the new one, and I overheard a few ladies talking about the second mystery checkpoint. I asked if, as out-of-towners, we had a snowball's chance in h@ll of figuring out the checkpoint. They were awesome; they walked right over, showed us on the map where it was, emailed us the address and phone number, and told us that even as locals they hadn't figured it out. Folks were helping others on that one, so when someone later asked me I was happy to share. That clue was pretty ridiculous; we NEVER would have figured it out.

On to other checkpoints which included riding a big wheel, doing a three-legged obstacle course, my riding the handlebars on a small kid-sized bike while trying to grab banners from some volunteers. . .but my favorite was a sling-shot volley challenge. A tube had been attached to a pair of men's sneakers, which Kirk donned. He had two Keen shoes to volley which I had to catch in a Whole Foods shopping bag. Sitting on his butt, he had to lean back, bend a shoe over the tube, and let it fly. The first did in fact fly way over my head. The second try went a little short, but the third was a perfect shot which I caught easily.

All in all, we had a fun ride, finished in a bit over two hours (three hours were permitted), and were surprised to find we'd ridden approx. 26 miles. Going hard in sections, too, as we were on our single speed 29ers. We probably won't do it again; it was fun, but actually not as much fun as I expected. Also, we'd anticipated the challenges to involve some bit of skill, and none did. Lots of folks cheated their whole way through, and since it is timed, and there are time penalties for missing checkpoints or not completing challenges, it undoes the 'race' if people are cheating right from the start. As a matter of fact, the best story was at the big wheel challenge, which was set up right next to the three legged obstacle course. The line, for some reason, at the big wheel challenge must've been 150 people long. It was the only checkpoint where we stumbled across a real line. We overheard the people in front of us arranging for one team to stay in line while the second team completes the three-legged course, then they'll trade places. Kirk said something about that being unfair advantage, made possible by having friends also racing. They got SO bent out of shape, and told us that the volunteers had told them to do that. We pointed out that the volunteers had no place to be changing the rules on the fly. However, if that's what the volunteers told them to do, by all means go do so. Then we heard what must've been a family riding with two team behind us, with the youngster on one team piping in with, "Yes, we should do that too! Wait here, and we'll go. . . ." The father put a stop to that, stating that if one leaves the line one leaves their place in the line. See, there were a few people riding the ride with honor and integrity! The funniest thing though was then the group in front then dropped their chain and spills all the pony beads off it -- into the grass. Karma will bite ya in the ass if you're not careful!

The rest of the day was spent wandering the 16th Street outdoor mall with Haley and Lauren, then heading back to the hotel. Everyone was pooped after walking, riding and the middle of the night fire alarm.

One of the highlights of the whole trip was the FOOD! Cheesecake Factory (twice), a awesome Asian fusion type place, and a fab Italian place with a fun and funny waiter. Breakfast at the Original Pancake House saw us hitting the road for home on Monday.

Today, Tuesday, we're back at SpinDoc, and thrilled to find what an incredible job Jonathon, Colin and Martin did holding down the fort.

I think that's the end of racing until Cyclocross season begins in October. In the meantime, come in for a class or a tune-up, or a bit of shopping for something to spruce up your cycling wardrobe. We'll be here!

La Tierra Torture race report

Race Report: La Tierra Torture

April 30-May 1, 2011

Santa Fe, NM

After practicing riding the miles of trails at La Tierra, west of 599 on Camino de los Montoyas, it was time for Team SpinDoc to head to the races. Kirk, David Sammeth, Ramleen, and I all registered for Saturday’s short course event in addition to Sunday’s cross country race. This dual registration also scored us cool Primal event jerseys.

The weather, in true La Tierra Torture tradition, was cool and windy, with snow forecast for Sunday. Hmmm. I guess that’s where the Torture part of the name comes in.

David’s son Torin rode the 1-lap fun race. He rode hard and had fun, finishing strong in his first race. Congrats, Torin!

Ramleen and I rode at noon, both as Cat 3 but in (very) different age groups. The group, ranging in age from teens to 50s (I was probably the oldest, or one of the oldest, to ride it, which I found surprising), was probably about 25 riders strong. I hung out at the back, and after a very casual countdown, we were off. The course, which was probably about 3/4 mile long started with a gradual but steady climb up to the start/finish, around to the left, down a jeep trail and out along a singletrack. It wasn’t that technical, and Ramleen took off like a shot. Speed is not my forte, so I literally took my time, and rode the ride as simply taking a bike ride. It showed in the end results, as I was dead last (a first, even for me) but as I wasn’t racing it was good. Ramleen, on the other hand, rode hard and strong, finishing first, in her first-ever mountain bike race, and from the start I suspected she would dominate her age group.

Kirk and David were to ride later, so I came home to hold down the fort at the shop. Kirk had been swamped at the shop, culminating in a food intake deficit for him – never a good way to start a race. I wasn’t there to witness it, but understand that Kirk got “the hole shot” (the ideal spot in the front line-up that enables a rider to immediately pull out in front of the pack) and took off. He and David rode hard, fast and strong, with Kirk pulling out the stops by riding on his cyclocross bike. He got lots of “atta boys!” for that, probably with some bemused shakes of the head, too. (Ah, but those folks haven’t seen him ride a cyclocross bike!) Somewhere on a fast turn he had to put a foot down which was all it took for David to move out into the lead. The guys ended up finishing 1-2. The SpinDoc men dominated their age group, with one-tenth of a second difference between them, and a full 12 seconds faster than the third rider.

Sunday dawned cold and overcast, with a 30% chance of snow showers in the forecast. Sure enough, it did send some fluffy white stuff down on us.

The crosscountry race was a totally different ball game. Instead of heading out fast and furious, the cross country race is all about endurance, handling on technical sections, and climbing. The course was approx. 9 miles, and the Cat 2 men were slated to ride two laps, and the Cat 3 riders were to go once. Cat 1 riders started first, riding three laps, at 9:00 AM. It was cold, occasional snowflakes drifting by, and all the riders lined up on a dirt road leading up to the actual course. Five minutes later the single speed riders started, followed shortly by the Cat 2 men and women. That left us Cat 3 riders to take off at 9:20. Having waved off Kirk and David, Ramleen and I positioned ourselves to start. Ramleen had started to suss out where she wanted to be, realizing that seeding herself too far back simply meant she had the challenge of passing that many more riders. I, on the other hand, maintained my back-of-the-pack spot. At the count down we pedaled off, the serious racers going hard, and me walking my bike up an extra few feet so I could get an easy start on flat road. Even so, I passed several riders right away climbing the ascent to the actual course.

Ramleen and the bulk of the riders were long out of site, but it didn’t take long before I was catching up to and trying to pass riders – usually on climbs. The funniest moment was when five women all hit a sandy ascent at the same time, but one had stopped, which meant we all stopped. I skirted around knowing I’d end up behind them trying to pass again, but then couldn’t get enough purchase to get rolling. Someone else tried with the same result. After all of us trying multiple times, we ended up sorting out the order by who could get rolling. It was straight out of Laurel and Hardy.

I played tag with a lady for a while, passing her on climbs and she passing me on descents, but I finally hit a long enough climb that it put me out ahead of her for good. I rode hard, and felt I did pretty good, but was very aware of the fact that it was inevitable that Cat 1 guys would start catching me as they rode their fast second lap. Sure enough, one by one they started to catch me, then a few at a time, then a group of six. It was frustrating to have that happen – my focus was shot as I had to pull aside or find a place for them to pass, and on technical stuff where I wanted to take my time I worried about them barreling down on me and literally running me down. I lost much time at a particular set of steep (to me) “woop-de-dos” worrying how to handle it should a Cat 1 rider come plowing through. Finally I just went, stopping in the middle of them as I do (I never quite make it up the other side, and end up pushing my bike to the top, gather my wits, and head down the next one) and was extremely thankful to remain on my own.

Eventually, still passing other riders (by now I was passing riders that had left well ahead of me, which made me feel good) I was approaching the finish, which I wasn’t sorry to see. I went as hard and focused as I could, and was proud of my ride. Ramleen was waiting at the end, which was nice particularly since Kirk was still out on his second lap. I may have finished last in my age group, but I finished faster then men and women younger than I.

Ramleen and I then hung out at the finish to cheer Kirk and David in. Both had good rides. Everyone had fun, successful rides, and that is ultimately what it is all about. Or is it the big plate of Huevos Rancheros, over easy, at Plaza Southside? I think that’s what it’s all about!

While at brunch Natasha called – who also raced both days and I believe took the gold in our age group for the combo event – to let us know she’d picked up Ramleen’s first place medal for her age group in the combination event, David’s first place, Kirk’s second place, and my third place medals. Pretty good for Ramleen’s first ever mountain bike race, eh?

Team SpinDoc did good. Most of all, we had fun and rode hard.

Till next time, keep the rubber side down and a smile on your face.

Chandler, Kirk and Team SpinDoc

SpinDoc races in Gallup and Monterey

Hello, SpinDoc-ers!

This race report is a little different than prior reports for two reasons: first, I was not present at the first of the two events, and second, I participated in the second event.

The first race was the Dawn to Dusk (7 am to 7 pm) race in Gallup, New Mexico. Kirk was invited to race with cyclocross racer Jon Dellios, putting NM's first and second place cyclocross champs on the same team. David Sammeth, Jerry Shere, and a friend of Jerry's comprised a second SpinDoc team. Last year's event was cancelled due to snow, and none of these guys had raced this event before, so the adventure meter was ticked up pretty high. On Friday, April 8th the weather forecast predicted snow for Gallup and a high temp of 43. The guys packed up a variety of gear and took off, battling wind the whole drive East. Kirk and David pre-rode the course Friday afternoon, hooked up with Jerry, John and the third rider and tucked in for the night. Kirk called Friday morning after his first lap to report that the weather was good and he had a good ride. The course sounded quite challenging, with it starting with climbing on a rock face and skirting between large rock formations and bowls, and some cliffside single track. Kirk conceded it would be pretty tough if wet, but at that point the weather was good. David and Kirk rode the first lap for each team. Kirk's second lap was fast and he was feeling good. David and Kirk each rode their second laps with a 15 second difference and everyone was enjoying the race. The weather started to shift, the winds picked up, and precipitation was on it's way. First came the wind, then rain, followed by snow, and the race was called at 5:00. Jon said his last lap was miserable, so he and Kirk called themselves finished after completing a total of six laps. As a matter of fact, the weather had gotten so bad that the wind folded up our easy-up tent into a pretzel. All in all I think all the guys were pleased with their performance and enjoyed the adventure. Their held their own: if you visit www.dawntodusk.com you can view the race results for both teams under the names "SpinDoc" (Jerry, David and their teammate), and "SpinDoc Redux" (Kirk and John).

On Sunday Kirk continued West towards Santa Cruz, CA and his fifth annual Sea Otter Classic. Weather was great, his drive was easy, and he and the camper were installed in a space in the redwoods Monday afternoon with time enough for a lag stretching ride. I flew out on Thursday (without my driver's license. . .but that's another story for another day. I don't recommend trying to fly without it, but it is possible.) Friday was beautiful, and we spent the day cycling through the redwoods with Rob, a friend with whom Kirk has ridden more off road miles than anyone, in many different venues. Rob is also the skilled designer of SpinDoc's logo. It's beautiful and challenging riding in the forest, navigating tree roots and narrow passes between trunks. The smell is wonderful, as was the feeling of moisture in the air. On Saturday we opted out of riding the 49 mile Gran Fondo, a fun ride road event and instead took a recovery day which included a leisurely walk through the Henry Cowell Park, reading about and admiring the gorgeous stately redwoods.

Sunday was an early morning, driving to Monterey for the race. We got there in time for Kirk to air up his flat front, debate how warm it would get during his 20 mile race, and get him to the start line. We did a little better than last year, at which he had to run to the start line -- but not much. Meantime, my ride started at pretty much the time Kirk would be finishing, so Rob (who joins us each year for the race) and I had some time to kill. We went down to the expo area, an outdoor tent village of food vendors and cycling vendors, for a cup of coffee. As this was my first ever mountain bike "race," I was opting to view the experience as simply 'going for a ride,' not racing. That being the case, I wasn't that nervous.

Luckily I had NO idea what I was going to be looking at. Since racing is based on your age at the end of the current calendar year, I was aged up to the 50+ age group of women racing at the lowest "beginner" level referred to as Category 3 in mountain biking. (As Kirk points out, there are four categories in cyclocross, and five in road racing; these are based on the sheer numbers of participants in each genre of riding.) So I'm lined up with the other gals behind the Cat 3 Women's 50+, the only one in mountain bike shorts (hey, that's what we wear where I come from, not lycra!), trying to relax, and querying the ladies on either side of me about the course. It had been lengthened from 12 to 16.2 miles, and -- as I was to learn -- was the same course the Cat 1 and Cat 2 riders took with the exception of side loops added for them which lengthened the course to 20 miles. Heading out, of course, I was happily oblivious to this fact. Waiting for our countdown, the announcer asked if this was anyone's first mountain bike race, at which I raised my hand (indicating 'so hey, play nice, ladies!'), I was the only newbie in our small group.

We took off along the paved wide track that is Laguna Seca Raceway, with about six women all riding like bats outta hell. I was last, but Kirk had told me this was how it would play out. As many of them went anaerobic, I caught back up with about half of them. We took a left turn onto dirt, and immediately started crossing some ruts. Unfortunately, the last and biggest got me, and my front wheel turned and fell into the deep rut, and I went down hard on the handlebars. Wind blown out of my sails, I got up, dusted off and resumed, but it took a bit of time to regain some confidence in my ride. Adding to the mix was the fact that the Boys 13-14 group had been set off two minutes after us, and were already making their way through our group. Shortly after that we hit a steep, loose and heavily rutted ascent, which got pretty much everyone off their bikes to walk up. Several women from my group were already out of site, and we were already starting to catch some of the younger women from prior heats. At the top I hopped back on my bike to see a gnarly very challenging descent -- and some walking down it, too. I made it down, past the ambulance at the bottom (which seemed to be in the process of utilization, but I never heard any details) and continued on. Whew.

All in all, it was a great ride. Parts were lovely swooping single track through willow-ish trees and meadows; some was wide gravel road; some was steep climbs on loose stuff; some was deep New Mexico-style sand. I reminded myself that I was there to ride my own ride, no one else's, and was very proud of some of the stuff I rode. I ended up walking up about three ascents, and down two or three (including one that was simply a foot of sand, making me think of Kirk and some of his cyclocross races, and marveling at the fact that hours earlier he had bombed down that same descent at high speed). After a while I wasn't being passed anymore, and started passing men and women that had started before I had. It was starting to feel long, and I started to wonder how much more there was. My leg ached where it hit my handlebars in my starting crash, but I still felt pretty strong. Where possible, on climbs and easy flats, I tried to pedal harder to make up some time. People out on the course were so nice, and I ended up riding with a local woman who had ridden the course many times as a young adult, and a couple times in the past years. She commented on how much harder that course was than any prior year, and that she'd even heard Cat 2 women talking about how tough the course was. I left her on a climb and unfortunately did not run into her post-race.

Finally, it became apparent that I was approaching the finish, but not without one more nerve-wracking descent. I rode down a rutted bit to discover it suddenly droped in a rutted sandy descent, at which three or four young volunteers were gathered. As I gently braked and exclaimed "Oh crap!" they encouraged me on with "Let it roll! Let if roll!" I did, and made it down, and called back over my shoulder that they helped get me down. Coming into the finish and over the timing mats, I was completed toasted and so happy to see Rob on one side, and Kirk on the other cheering me in. All in all, I am very pleased with my performance on a course that was very technical, very long, and technically over my skill level. It was also my first race, and I felt I held my own, used the skills I have learned from Kirk, and generally applied what I knew pretty well.

Kirk had a great ride, felt good and strong, and rode fast. The longer, highly technical course suited him well, and he placed 16th in his group -- a huge jump from his 41st place standing last year. We wandered the expo, saw some of our SpinDoc reps, and headed back to Santa Cruz. Monday saw us taking a short easy recovery ride, and heading east towards home. Driving past Gallup, Kirk was able to point out where the Dawn to Dusk race was. . . .wow! Pretty crazy terrain there.

Kirk's fifth and my first Sea Otter under our belts, we're ready to hit the ground running at SpinDoc, and prep for the next adventure: racing La Tierra Torture. Oh yeah, it snowed on the racers last year, and the starting gun wouldn't fire in the wet. What will this year bring?

Best to all,
Kirk, Chandler and Ashleigh

The new bikes are here!

Big excitement last week as the new bikes arrived. Beautiful, hand built, American made, Intense Cycles full suspension bikes in all sizes.

We have also received new Fuji inventory including the amazing SL-1 Pro LE full carbon fiber road bike and the SL 2.0.

Not to mention the new Breezer Jetstream hard tail 29er.

Come on in and take a look.

24 Hours in the Old Pueblo

Kirk left Wednesday, Feb. 16th driving solo in Chef Ken's RV. (Although we worked on him until the 11th hour, Chef Ken was unable to join us this year. That left me with awefully big shoes to try to fill! I'm certainly not a

chef.) Although slow going he made it into Tucson at a reasonable time. The next morning, teammate David Sammeth left Santa Fe with Kirk's two Monte del Sol proteges, Derrick and Rico, in the SpinDoc truck sporting six mountain bikes. I held down the fort at SpinDoc with the lovely and capable Ashleigh, and flew out with David's wife, Janine Sammeth, on Friday evening.

The four guys picked us up from the airport in Tucson, and we headed straight to dinner. The two teammates had taken the two proteges on a ride of the course earlier in the day, and it was great fun to hear their animated descriptions of the course, their prior night's dinner at a Cheesecake Factory (definitely a highlight for the boys, as they'd only heard about them from others).

Friday dinner was at P.F. Changs. . . .and that's where the first part of the adventure kicked in ala full-on SpinDoc mode. Rico ordered a shrimp dish, and we all discovered an hour later that Rico is allergic to shell fish. He was only suffering a mild scratchy throat with no breathing issues, so we felt safe with immediate self-medicating. With Kirk's lethal nut allergy, we always travel with Benadryl strips, liquid Benadryl, and Epi Pens, so we dosed him up with a few strips which dissolve in the mouth and are the fastest means of ingestion. The symptoms quickly subsided, and even by the time we got to the hotel he felt fine. We did tell him, though, that should anything change he was to call us immediately.

At 12:45 we got that call. 15 minutes later we were on our way to the emergency room. The kid was covered in hives and miserable. Once hooked up to an IV, the symptoms started to subside, his mom had been contacted multiple times and we knew Rico was out of the woods. I insisted on taking Kirk back to the hotel at about 2:30 a.m. After dropping him off In went back to the ER sit it out with the boys. Upon Rico's release at 3:45, we headed back to the hotel.

Good thing I'm well versed at sleep deprivation! At this point I was up to 8 total hours sleep over two nights. The worrisome one was Kirk, though, heading into a 24 hour race on about 4 hours of sleep. Not good. We left the boys sleeping at the hotel and drove out to 24 Hour Town near Oracle, AZ -- the race location. Kirk had gotten the RV nicely set up, and we were lucky enough to have scored the same parking spot as last year, a minute's walk from the transition tent on the race course. It simply couldn't be much handier than that. Unfortunately, the weather looked nasty, and the winds were blowing at a steady 25-35 mph, gusting up to 50 (we know that from the National Weather Service Wind Advisory). We put up a tent for the boys to sleep in (and much to my amazement it didn't blow over until about 3 or 4 pm). I drove back to Oro Valley to pick up Rico's prescriptions and retrieve the boys from the hotel, and although we tried we did not make it back in time for the start of the race.

This race starts Le Mans style. The riders have to run to their bikes, jump on. and start to ride. Kirk went first as his cyclocross experience of running in bike shoes was deemed an advantage. The riders have a roughly 2 inch piece of a thin dowel that is their baton This baton must be shown each time the rider enters the transition tent if turning out for another lap, or left for your teammate to retrieve at the beginning of their lap. Kirk came in after his first 16 mile loop which he road quickly in about one hour and 19 minutes, and David headed out on his first which he completed in about the same time. Their plan had been for Kirk to then ride three loops, David would ride three, then each would do two laps, twice. They'd total 16 laps in the 24 hours--if all went according to plan.

It did not.

Kirk headed out on lap 3 (his lap 2) around 4:45 and in good shape, but as I stood outside the transition tent waiting to hand off food, water, and extra layers of clothing, a blast of cold wind hit. It was like someone opened a huge freezer door-- but it never warmed back up. It must have been at ten to fifteen degree temperature drop. I've never experienced anything quite like it. The sky was brooding but as of yet no rain had fallen. Now it was just cold on top of being incredibly windy. Kirk came through, and obviously was feeling the lack of food and sleep. I got him to eat a quarter of a pb&j, and put leg warmers on, and we swapped out a fresh water bottle, but he was very single minded about getting back on the bike and heading off. Next time I'll be more insistent about more food, and resting a moment.

Shortly thereafter it began to mist. . .then drizzle, but with 25-35 mph winds. . . and by 6 it was windy sheets of freezing rain. At this point my sense of time gets pretty lousy. In order to prep them to do the transition support through the night, I had the boys join Janine and I outside the transition tent. Considering the shape Kirk started his last loop in, we'd decided that David would simply take over, and ride his three laps. He stood inside the transition tent, and the boys, Janine and I stood outside in the rain. And waited. And waited. And waited. Riders came and went, the announcer kept calling out bib numbers, and we kept listening for 283, but it didn't get called. Soon Kirk was 30 minutes late coming in. Then it was 45 minutes late, and David came out to tell us he was worried. We inquired about overdue riders and learned there was a communications tent in 24 Hour Town. I sent the boys back to the RV to dry off and warm up, and Janine and I raced over to the communications tent to report 283 as being very late getting in and needed to be looked for out on the course. We went back to the transition tent, and stood inside to be out of the rain. At this point I was so soaked I was shaking. Next I know, the boys pull up on bikes and report that Kirk had called in, was inside "a warming hut" and was okay, just getting some warmth and recovery before finishing the course. He had totally bonked with lack of food, the cold, wet, wind, and lack of sleep. He'd meet back at the RV when he was able to finish the lap. He'd called at the moment David got back to the RV, so David was able to remind him not to leave until he felt it was safe for him to make it back.

In the meantime, at the "warming hut" (which actually turned out to be a communications trailer, one of 4 or 5 set up around the course, Kirk was hanging out with one of the volunteers, a ham radio operator who was nearly deaf and had turned down the radio because of the static. He'd lit up a propane heater for Kirk and offered him any of the snacks on hand (all of which were riddled with nuts) and chatted with Kirk as he dried off and warmed up. While sitting there, someone stuck their head in, said "I see a red bike outside with number 283 on it, and they've been radioing out for 30 minutes looking for this guy; is he in here?" Yes, 283 was there.

What a relief to see Kirk ride up. However, it took about 30 minutes just to get him warmed enough and normalized enough that I could get some real food into him. We stripped him of his wet clothes, covered him in layers of towels and sleeping bags, put a hat on him, and got him to sip some soup, chamomile tea, and eventually nibble some honey pretzels. Eventually a bowl of pad thai was eaten, and he was put to bed.

Around ten or so the wind died and rain stopped, and David--being as much an adventurer as Kirk (or is that a glutton for punishment??) decided to head out for a lap or two. Through the rain and incredible wind we had continued to see riders go past with head lights and front bike lights glowing heading out to do a lap. . .so we knew he wouldn't be out there alone in case of trouble. After getting everyone set and fed, I called it a day and joined Kirk in some real sleep. Kirk slept nine hours (!), woke a little before seven, and headed out for a lap feeling refreshed and energetic. He had a great, fast lap, and came in for french toast and fried eggs while David went out and did one. Both were feeling good but a little weary, so Kirk headed out for the last lap, timing it to that he came in after the 12 noon cut-off (had he come in before 12, one more lap would be required to officially finish). We quickly packed everything up, stashed bikes and hit the road headed home as the winds picked back up and drops started to fall. After a quick lunch at In and Out Burger -- another new experience for the boys -- we were on our way home.

Thankfully the drive home was uneventful, the wind helped out (for a change) by pushing, and only hindered a bit once we turned north. The boys were deposited with their vehicle to drive home, Janine and David were shuttled to their house two blocks from ours, and this year's adventure came to a successful and satisfying conclusion.

In spite of sleep deprivation, extreme weather conditions, and it being such a new experience for David, Team SpinDoc placed 44th out of 81 duos. Congrats to both riders.

Plans for changing tactics, meal ideas, and much mulling over have already started in preparation for next year's event. . .

Enjoy the reprieve of weather, get out and ride, and get those bikes in to SpinDoc for spring cleaning. Your local bike shop is here to serve you.

Information will follow shortly about the 26th annual Santa Fe Century, some spin class training for the Century, and a fundraiser we'll be organizing for World Relief Bicycle Fund who is currently sponsoring an epic fundraiser race in Africa to raise funds to build 12 schools there.

Upcoming races include a 12-hour race Kirk is riding as a duo with cyclocross king John Delios, and Sea Otter Classic near Santa Cruz, California. For those of you who would like to try their hand at some fun, casual local mountain bike racing, you can use the next couple months to gear up for the La Tierra Torture. For information, visit their website at http://www.latierratorture.com/ or ask Kirk. Don't let the "Torture" part put you off.

Our best to all, keep the rubber side down and the smile on your face.

Kirk, Chandler and Ashleigh