Antelope Athens

Carnage, courage, and cadence: The Antelope Fall Classic, Stage I

2011-08-31T19:23:00.000-07:00

[spoken in the voice of the NFL announcer dude)
The hills are alive. From every corner of Oconee and Clarke more and more riders have heeded the call. There are riders everywhere. Good riders, strong riders. Men and women who dream of being fast and are ready to lay their souls bare in sprint zone after sprint zone. The Antelope Herd is thundering through Oconee again, a phenomenon, a stampede.

Hey is there where I should park? Can I borrow your pump?

We have been having great turnouts for the Wednesday ride. Over 25 riders came out to contest Stage 1 of the Antelope Fall Classic. Many are new faces to the Wednesday night ride. Tyler P announced his presence with what would be a strong showing as a climber .

Every morning I climb this tailgate 95 times to warm up my quads

Charles" the Caribou" Carabello brought an interspecies herd animal rivalry to the series.

and some caribou can actually outrun the average Antelope

Approximately 79 men named Jon, John, or Jonathan joined the herd on Wednesday.

We also welcomed Team Rentz who are sure to run away with the "married couple in matching kits competition."

Cheetahs Frank the Tank and Brian da Hub joined the herd to tame the wind when we got tired. Of course King Dan was there and he was ready to roll. You can always tell when Dan is serious about competing because a small section of his head hair gets an erection and pokes through the vent of his helmet.

I'm ready to ride

Bethany brought her “backpack of courage” to the stage today.

Oh shit he's taking my picture. He'll probably make me say something stupid.

Nearly 30 old friends and new took off after a brief announcement by the commissioner. It was a perfect evening for cycling and the double pace line winded its way out of the Watkinsvillian metropolis into the wilds of South Oconee. And the wildlife was out this evening. Even before we hit Weiner Dog Central on Watson Springs the herd was accosted by a pit bull and a Chihuahua. The pit bull we could handle but the Chihuahua was particularly vicious. It gave several riders the evil eye and we had to make a brief stop to cleanse them of evil.

I keep chasing but they won't stop, I just want Val to take a look at my eye.

We made it safely by old red eye just in time to shoot the rapids of weiner dog central. The herd was stalwart and mostly together in the run in to Elder Mill. The pace was brisk with no major attacks, building and building on the hill when….

Oh the sound and the horror. We hate crashes. Chris W had touched wheels and gone down. The good news was that Chris did a magnificent roll, minimizing his road rash and protecting the hard parts (no he did not have a hair tuft erection) of his anatomy. His titanium frame was undamaged and with a few minor adjustments, Chris was back on the bike. As the commissioner I immediately thought to award Chris an Asphalt Rebound point. However, I was stunned by what unfolded. Not only did Chris get back on his bike, but every time I tried to ride beside him to see if he was OK, I couldn’t hang. He had this fury, pounding the pedals, pulling a line of riders chasing the leaders. It was clear that Chris had gone beyond Asphalt Rebound to Stomach of Anger. As we all know, Stomach of Anger points come in pairs.

Down the road the heart was out of the sprint due to concern for a downed herd member. Many good Samaritans immediately stopped their efforts, forgoing pain, nausea, and oxygen debt to see to their fellow man. A quick consult with the race officials ensued and a judgment was rendered.

Once again together and sailing down Colham Ferry, the trauma faded in the whir of wheels and the click of derailleurs. With the sun setting we made the turn to Bishop and the fireworks began. With a massive lead out from Frank and others the herd split in half on the midway hill. Heading towards the line at 30 mph an elite group of about 8 sprinters survived. Dan and his hair tuft looked unbeatable but he couldn’t match Jonesy’s final kick. Chris H, despite the wind drag produced by his new Grizzly Adams look dived into Jonesy’s slipstream but couldn’t get around him at the end. Tale of the tape:

Jones—3 points

Chris H—2 points

Dan—1 point

Not more than 2 seconds later, rival Queen challengers Bethany and Molly were neck and neck, crankarms groaning from the power being laid down. In a photo finish, Molly edged Bethany at the line by a pink handlebar.

Molly R—1 Queen point

And Stage 1 is in the books. Remember King and Queen awards are based on the best 6 of the 8 stages. Also, the grapevine is abuzz with rumors that there could be swag for herd challengers in the future.

See you next Wednesday. Ride hard, next week Elder Mill counts!

All Hail King Dan!!!

2011-06-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

At the pre-race sign in for the final stage of the Antelope World Cup, Dan H had a 3 point lead over his rival Thin Daddy Steere with JeffY, and JonesY all nipping at their pedals. He would be hard to beat with a three point lead. Despite this cushion, there would be great drama on this final stage. On the eve of the triumphal stampede, I was called before the Antelope World Cup Council of Elders for an emergency meeting.

We have an important message for you commissioner, stop sniffing her butt!

The elders in their ongoing communion with the cycling gods had received a dramatic message. Whereas usually the sacred antler offerings burned for 90 minutes then quickly turned to ash, on this evening the offerings burned for fully 3 hours! There could be no mistaking the meaning of this. There was to be an epic finish. From his home high on Mt d”Huez the King of cycling Gods Antelopo Canceldor decreed that on this final stage, there would be:

DOUBLE POINTS!

Yes there would be 12 points at stake on the sprints in this final stage, enough to topple Dan from the leader board and elevate any challenger with sufficient pluck, determination, and performance enhancing hair plugs to kinghood. As the liaison between the council and the herd I shared this news the riders.

There will be double points. Do not sprint until you hear the whistle or you will die!

Dan’s face took on a grim and determined cast.

Grrrrrr

And that strange tuft of hair erupted through the vent in his helmet

Ben “Thin Daddy” Steere grinned with new hope.

No, I'm not a hand puppet, I'm just thin

Jonesy signed in his name with all capitals, to let the commissioner know he was here to compete.

Why don't I get a picture of an antelope?

and finally, MarkY had the special look which BikesnobNYC has termed "non plussed.:

Double points. I am neither saddened or emboldened by this turn of events.

Lil Cappy led us out with a brisk and determined pace. The peloton was unusually quiet, sensing the drama about to unfold. As the tarmac on Elder Mill began to turn upward, Ben Steere attacked. Dan grabbed his wheel and both slowed down. The front of the peloton led by MarKY charged by maintaining their increased pace from bridging the gap while hitting the steeps. Dan and Ben grabbed on to the this select group of about 8 riders and the front group was established.

On a side note- as usual, I wasn’t in it. Though for me It wasn’t about a podium. It was about beating the ageless Bill K (can the guy get a gray hair or a bald spot for crying out loud?). Incidentally, here is an artist's rendering of BillK at the age of 94:

Hey 90 is the new 50, let's ride!

And beating the the Bostwick Bad Boy, Jack "Bad2_D_" Bone.

I'm going to kick Kogan's Antelope ass as soon as someone changes me.

He may look a little pudgy but Jack can really hammer.

But back to the main story, the long winding uphill to glory was brutal. The scavengers bore witness to a cacophony of huffing and hammering as the hill contenders tried to put each other in agony before the final kick. In an act of great humility, piety, and desperation, DanH called out to the Antelope Gods, swearing that if victory was his, he would join PETA and never eat venison again. And the Antelope God heard his prayer, granting DanH wings....

I will be king!

And just like that, Dan put the crown out of reach of his competitors crossing the line ahead of Ben and then Mark.

One Crown To Rule Them All!

In the "other race" the Antelope commissioner was again crushed, first by Jack and then by BillK.

Fine, I still beat Bethany

With the series won, the Bishop Sprint was gravy, though Dan added to his point total finishing behind winner Tim and just before Chris H.

With the fnal stage in the books, the GC standings were carved into titanium for all time:

1. DanHall 38

2. Ben Steer 31

3. Jonesy 26

4. JeffY 25

5. MarkY 19

All Hail King Dan! Details of the coronation ceremony to come soon.

Who Will be King?

2011-06-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

The Antelope World Cup is blowing up. Once again more than 280 riders, give or take 255 converged on the courthouse last Wednesday leaving the Silos ride nearly empty. Clearly Watkinsville is the place to be. Riders from esoteric destinations like Bostwick, Ga came to sharpen their antlers on Elder Mill Hill. Not even temps in the upper 90’s and 80mph wind gusts could deter the intrepid riders.

It really was 97 at the start of the ride. I know because My Hot Wife looked at me with that special look that says that I am either a man of great courage or a complete idiot and said, “you’re going to ride in that heat?” Yes, I was planning on riding in that heat, and, I was not the only brave and highly courageous rider to show.

Through the baking heat we cruised out to the southern reaches of Oconee. We scoffed at the Weiner dogs on Watson Springs Mill who were too timid to brave the heat and just watched us from the window of their house with the AC blasting. Wimpy Weiner dogs!

After a crisp warm up of 17 miles I blew the whistle to signal the sprint zone. This is my favorite exhalation of the week. In fact I enjoy blowing the whistle so much I have named these weekly exhalations. This week’s exhale was named Fletcher. The group stayed mellow as we approached the first climb when MarkY initiated the hostilities. This triggered an immediate reaction from DanH and BenS and they were joined by newcomer Chris and old friend BenG who is looking fit and hale. Lil Cappy sat back with the main pack, though I could distinctly see a call out over his head through my virtual reality glasses that said, “how cute, the Antelopes are attacking up the hill. I think I will give them a few hundred yards then chase them down for a warm up before I do my 50 intervals tonight.” Sure enough, he gave them a leash and then went on the hunt. But he didn’t count on the power of BenG who powered the group down the road.

Elder Mill podium: BenS, DanH, Chris

Incidentally the Antelope Athens analytical team has determined that Ben’s recent domination of the hill sprint is not due to sexual frustration; we tested Ben after the ride and sure enough, well, he’s pregnant. Yes Ben has an extra pair of little tiny legs helping him up the hill. Every watt counts.

Speaking of watts, Ben G who very nearly took the Antelope Series last year, has fully graduated to cheetahood. Although slumming with us this Wed he is a regular at the Silohs ride, rides one of them hi zoot speshalized road bikes, and even has a power tap. Now I’ve noticed that a lot of really fast guys have those big fat hubs that are supposedly measuring watts to download to their coaches. I suspect, however, this may be a cheetah scam cause with miniaturization and nanotechnology and such these days I bet they could have a little engine in those hubs and we’d never be the wiser. Think about it.

The bishop sprint unfolded with a big group cresting the midway roller. Now everyone has heard of the Manx Missile, Mark Cavendish. Well, few locals know that his father had an affair with a local waitress during a summer vacation to the states. Yes the missile’s half-brother is a member of our herd, the Pendegrass Projectile, Jonesy. With uncanny timing, the projectile slunk in the shadows until the final 30 meters then flew by the pack at the line.

Bishop podium: Jonesy, Roberto , and TimJ

Going into Wednesday's final stage Dan Hall has a comfortable but not unassailable lead. Who will be crowned King of the Herd? Join us at Chops and Hops, 7:45 on Wednesday to see him crowned.
AA

Stage 8: Rapid Posting

2011-05-25T18:16:00.000-07:00

Although I could not get on the podium tonight I have defeated the forces of procrastination and intertia, posting results and a report on the very night of Stage 8's ride. Stage 8 saw some new friends and old joining the herd which was 25 strong! Dan the nutrionist is killing it old school riding with clips on a steel bike. New herd members Dean and Nick C rode strong. Everyone had a great time and a smooth ride except for Reverend Lenny who is still upset that he wasn't raptured last Saturday. Jack "Bad 2 the" Bone got tired of whipping up on the Bostwick Monday nighters and finally made a ride. Jack has been terrorizing the Cat 5 Crit circuit. Not just with great riding, but he sneaks up on people wearing masks.

With spring turning to summer the Elder Mill breakaway has suddently gotten fast and brutal. My days of wheelsucking the lead group on Elder Mill appear to be over. These dudes are in shape. Blasting off on the steepest part of the hill the select group is putting a serious gap on everyone. The usual suspects: Ben, Dan, and Mark were joined by Tim J. Ben started the aggression but looked like he might be out of it when dropped his chain. Thin Daddy recovered, though, speeding past me and Dean, flying across the gap, joining the lead group and crushing them at the finish line. Now I'm not saying that the fact that Ben's wife is in Europe is leading to pent up or perhaps extra energy on the bike, but that boy was flying. Dan took second followed by Tim.

Bishop was fast and fun with a big group jockeying for position and filling gaps towards the end. It looked like Roberto and Dan had a small gap on Tony whose wheel I was following. I am trying to chase down the gap when Jonesy comes spinning by, winks, and says, "I got this one." Beat Roberto at the line by a wheel length. Dan took third.

With another dominating performance Dan forges into the leader's jersey with 28 points.

There are 2 stages left. We will take the best 8 stages to crown the king. Plan on hanging around after the ride on Wed, June 8th for a beer at chops and hops and the coronation of Antelope World Cup King of the Herd.
AA

Stage 7: Dan Duz De Double

2011-05-25T17:41:00.000-07:00

They said it couldn't be done. No Antelope could possibly take both the Elder Mill and Bishop sprint zones. They were wrong.

Big Dan Hall, got the message, be the guy in front at the line, not a mile before. Following Dan up vomitron hill were Mark then Jeff. Mike Kempf and Ben took second and third at Bishop.

Unfortunately we had to award a Purple Hoof point to Bethany who decided to have some asphalt for supper. She was a nimble trooper, though, elegantly rolling with her bike to avoid too much damage. This goes to show that the years she spent alligator wrestling were not wasted on her current bike career. She went down on Astondale due to a wheel overlap but popped back up with a look of grm determination, It looked something like this:

That didn't hurt, let's keep riding!

Although Bethany was a trooper, Joe Fox couldn't stop crying. The sound of aluminum on asphalt just has that effect on him, 20 feet in front of the crash, Tony also had a sympathy pang and decided launch into a nearby ditch. Both Joe and Tony were alright thought.

With Dan's stunning double he forges into a tie with the King for the GC lead. Unfortunately the King has some tough family business to attend to and may not be able to defend his title. Our best to you King!
AA

Stage 6!

2011-05-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

Elder Mill: JeffY, Dan, Chris
--watch out for Dan on the day he realizes that pulling people in sprint zones may sap just a little bit of his energy for the finish

Bishop: Tony, Mark, ChrisH

GC: The King is King---All hail JeffY

Stage 5: A cheetah festival

2011-05-06T17:12:00.000-07:00

Stage 5 saw a host of Cheetahs joining the herd to play. Bill Bray, Matty "Ice" Karzen, Doc Moye, joined our token cheetah lil' Cappy to give the Antelope Elite something to think about for the future and made sure the pace was blistering despite a stiff head wind.

For the first time, we have actual footage of the carnage on Elder Mill Hill. Please make sure you are sitting down cause this is exciting.

Thin Daddy was the only antelope not to get ridden off of Matty Ice and Lil Cappy's wheels to take the line by a mile. 8 seconds later...

Marky huffed and puffed his way to second just as my hot wife's camera died. so I don't have footage of JeffY taking third.

My pictures didn't turn out so well at the Bishop sprint. The Cheetahs had a little sprint of their own as I saw several Hub kits flashing by first followed by the Antelope podium: Jonesy, Jeff, and Ben.

Ride was speed was just over 20 (23.4 on MarkY's computer). Extra points to the Reverend for coming in with the group despite a torrid pace, Val for the queen of the day, Matty Ice and Lil Cappy for pace setting, and Doc Moye for being a force of nature.

The King holds onto the series lead followed by Thin Daddy and Jonesy.

Tomorrow don't forget to Tame the Lion, the Oconee Metric Century. I'll be on the trail in a 6 hour death duel with my arch nemesis, Yao, the computer programmer from ATL. Only one of us will survive.
AA

Antelope World Cup, the King is King

2011-05-03T06:09:00.000-07:00

Two ride reports behind. What a lousy blog! What has happened to it? I sat the blog down at the kitchen table over some general mills international coffee to really get at its inner feelings

Me: so blog, what is going with you? You just haven’t been productive lately?
Blog: I don’t know man, its just hard to get started? Once I start I ‘m OK but sometimes I just can’t going?
Me: Hmmmm, it sounds like you are depressed.
Blog: Not really, I feel as cheerful as ever, the rides are great, I have ideas, even pictures to caption….
Me: You were really going strong this winter “
Blog: I was, ride reporting was just awesome, I had a web presence and everything
Me: You know maybe with all of the winter blogs you peaked too early in the season
Blog: You think so?
Me: Definitely, you are just over trained, you need to relax and take the pressure off of yourself
Blog: Wow, that sounds gtreat
Me: Ok , so for the rest of the spring, just brief reports and update the stats, save your lame attempts at humor
Blog: What do you mean lame?

April 20--20+average (22 on Mark's computer)
Elder Mill: Ben, Jeff, Mark
Bishop: Jonesy, Dan, Jeff
KenS-personal record, 20+ average!
Bethany "being Bethany"

April 27--20+average (22.5 on Mark's computer)
Elder Mill: Jeff, mark, Ben
Bishop: Jonesy, Dan, Jeff
Lil'Cappy--monstrous pulls into the wind, cracked 5 strong riders on one long pull

JeffY-"The King" leads the series with 15 points.

Stage 2: Antelopes Lock Horns

2011-04-20T17:58:00.000-07:00

What? Where was last week's ride report?

Alright, I have thought of many excuses, stories, and works of fiction to explain away the lack of a timely report on last week's ride. But I can't do it, I can't lie, so I'm coming out with the truth.

I was kidnapped by female Somali pirates who made me their sex slave. I endured 6 days of utter objectification being used in arcane fertility rites until last night the guard outside my hut had just a little too much to drink. I carefully lifted the keys to my manacles from her belt and freed myself running naked through the jungles of Walton county until a friendly farmer gave me a ride into Watkinsville.

Now I can finally write the ride report.

Wednesday, April 13, 22 Antelopes checked their shorts for transparency before converging on the Watkinsville courthouse for Stage 2 of the Antelope Cup. Many familiar faces joined the herd including Chris H, Terry , and da Beast with a derailleur and everything. Regional celebrity and junior prince of speed "lil' Cappy" came by to help inspire the old fellas to sprint just a little harder.

It was a chill spin to the first whistle when the antelopes put their hoofs in the drops and began locking horns.

BenS took off and initiated the stampede. Lenny tried to slow him down by tying a thin rope to his seatpost but Ben was ready and whipped out a razor blade to free himself just before attacking. Seeing Ben's razor, Jeff was heard saying "its on now" as he pulled a switch blade out of his jersey pocket. Three more antelopes pulled out weapons before suddenly breaking into song, something about Jets and Sharks. Lil Cappy shot through the distracted peloton shocking everyone back into focus. Lil cappy set a blistering pace and antelopes were cracking left and right, then he pulled off to let the old men have their glory at the line. Jonesy (not an old man) showed a massive uphill kick, stunning the peloton with his hill climbing prowess.

1. Jonesy   3points
2. Dan        2 points
3. Ben         1 point

Lead out point: Lil cappy

The herd gathered and prepared for the Bishop sprint. Superdraft took off on an early and hopeless breakaway. The peloton gave him 10 seconds then began closing the gap. This time Chris H took a massive pull cranking up the mid way roller engulfing Superdraft and thinning out the crowd. Lil Cappy took the final lead out and at the fnish line it was:
1. JeffY   3 points
2. Spinmaster 2 points
3. daBeast     1 point

Lead out point, Chris H

With 2 stages down, Thin Daddy leads the standings by one point over Jeff "the King" Young. Ride report from today's stage 3 contest soon to follow, check local listings.
AA

2011 Antelope World Cup Stage 1

2011-04-08T19:20:00.000-07:00

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

And then there is the Antelope World Cup. While the pollen clouded windshields, the vast metropolis of Watkinsville Ga stirred from a long winter slumber. Birds, bees, and middle age men in lycra began feeling a strange heat surging from below. Is it spring? Can we ride our bikes after work? Will the thunder of Antelopes two abreast once again stimulate the vitriol of drivers on Colham Ferry?

16 cyclists accidentally forgot to show up for the 25mph Silos ride in North Athens, instead signing in on Wednesday to contest Stage 1 of The Antelope Cup: Episode 2: The Phantom Downshift. Although the organizer tried to tamp down the competitive nature of the restless herd, the pre-ride parking lot was a miasma of testosterone and thinly veiled aggression. It didn't take a third ear to hear the intensity of the competitors coming through.

Hey Goldman, if I drop a shift and you manage to get by me on Elder Mill Hill, this is how you hold up your arms at the line.

Ahem, ach, ach, your ass ach is so cough fat, ahem, sorry I've got some pollen in my throat, hey you're looking really fit this spring !

Despite personal invitations from the race organizer, several local celebrity athletes didn't make Stage 1. Fortunately the series is the rider's score on his/her best 8 rides out of 10. If you see any of these people or any other people you think should be here, stare at them thoughtfully without responding to anything they say. This confuses them.

Many believe the following cyclist could make a major impression on the Lady Antelope podium:

What? Only 27 miles? Hey I'm training for distance not speed.

This past Antelope King was sorely missed for his long pulls in the wind and the cache of malted beverages in the back of his truck.

I am the once and future Antelope King. Beware my mighty hammer.

And last Fall's queen was mysteriously absent

Hey, I'm just giving Tinsely and Goldman a head start, they're going to need it.

Oddly, no mention was made of the absence of this old friend.

By 6PM everyone managed to get their front wheels tightened, their tires inflated, and their restless butts planted firmly in the saddle. The 2011 Antelope Cup was on the road. It was a modest early season pace down Colham Ferry, allowing the herd to stay tight and catch up on the latest gossip.

And then her husband caught him with a much newer bike and she figured out why the credit card was maxed out.

But after 15 miles of warm up, it was time to get our sprint on. Rounding the intersection onto Elder Mill Rd, the commissioner sounded the whistle for the sprint zone. The contenders watched each other warily, not wanting to make the first move when new Antelope Robert made an early charge. The GC figured Robert, a newbie, didn't know how long the sprint was and let him go. But then Ben decided his ticked to a breakaway had been punched and took off to bridge the gap. This set everyone in motion as no one was going to give Ben's skinny, 25 year old butt a head start up a climb. After the first steep climb, Robert and Ben still had an 8 second gap with Steve, Jeff, Tony, and Dan forming a chase group. Soon Robert and his lungs realized the sprint zone was just a little bit longer than the top of the first hill and Ben was on his own. Jeff tool mighty pull and reeled Ben in who actually smiled and said something like "shit." Steve then took a pull and Jeff paid the price for chasing Ben down. Steve put Jeff and Tony in difficulty with Dan on his wheel followed by Ben. And then the inner tactician/psychopath in Dan emerged. As they approached 100m Kogan said to Dan "have we dropped Tony?" To which Dan replied "no he's still here, let me come up and pull some." But as soon Steve left off the throttle, Dan came storming by, opening up a 20M gap. Stunned, Steve tried to recover, but Ben came around him and the Phantom threat of Tony was nowhere to be seen. Christening the sprint line on Elder Mill for 2011, it was:
1st   Dan Hall       3 points
2nd Ben                2 points
3rd Steve              1 point

In the ladies peloton, Bethany took Queen point over Karen. Karen, however, took this in stride.

Sprint? Was that a sprint zone?

The gang recovered on Saxon and picked up the pace down Astondale for the Bishop sprint. A determined pack hammered through Bishop as the whistle sounded. Steve and Lenny took pulls on the midway roller to thin the crowd and split the peloton in two. The leaders, however, slowed the pace back down as Jeff was determined not to pull anyone else to victory. The pace finally picked up with 200M to go. At the tape it was

1st    Tony
2nd   Ben
3rd    Jeff

Not far behind, I had a birds eye view of Karen marking Bethany's wheel like a hawk. Big Robert pulled up along side Bethany, stomping the pedals for all he was worth. Karen made her choice, diving on Robert's wheel for a boost then coming around to take the Queen point.

Despite the lack of malted beverages, it was a joyous parking lot. All slights forgiven, everyone again friends. Until the whistle blows next Wed.

See you there
AA

Antelope World Cup Dates Announced!

2011-03-14T17:49:00.000-07:00

Like a distant storm, a migrating cycling militia, elegant and powerful, the tarmac yearns as the Antelope Herd thunders through the country side

THE ANTELOPE WORLD CUP

This Time Its Serious

Wednesdays, 6PM

Watkinsville Courthouse

27 miles, 2 sprint zones

April 6^TH- June 1st

The Antelope World Cup is a weekly series of good natured, safety conscious, and competitive group rides that grew out of the Wednesday night courthouse blast. The AWC commissioner tallies points for riders who:

-- Sign in (1 point)

-- Win (3 points), place (2 points), or show (1 point) in one of two sprint zones

-- Demonstrate outstanding bravery, courtesy, or bonhomme

--Sport sartorial disaster.

Cat3 men/Cat2 women and faster are welcome to participate but can’t win podium points. Riders’ top points in 7 of the 9 rides are tallied to determine the Antelope King and Queen. Coronation occurs at Chops and Hops after the ride on June 1^st.

The Hunger

2011-03-01T17:12:00.000-08:00

Its upon me. Gnawing at my midsection like an alien embryo. I have instructed google to let me know every time the object of my desire is mentioned anywhere in the google-verse. I now officially think about this more often then sex. Between the two I have barely had time to lay a brick this week.

I must have a new mountain bike.

I don't know when the passion ended for my present steed. In its a day it was a stud. A 2006 Stumpjumper FSR, Expert trim.

but Antelope, don't you love me anymore?

I got it lightly used for half of retail. It made me faster and cared for me through rock gardens, tight single track, and the occasional hangover. It has been a great friend but there's just something so alluring about...

You know u want me!

I never before considered myself a "big wheel man." I told my Stumpy, "honestly, 26 inch wheels are the perfect size, I don't need a bike with 29 inch wheels. All those guys on 29ers just have a wheel fixation." And I believed if for a long time. Those big wheels just made the ride too artificial, sticking out in unnatural ways, not hanging, er I mean flowing on the trail naturally. But now, well those big wheels are taunting me, teasing me with the promise of rolling over every obstacle, higher speeds on flats and downhills, ignoring rocks and roots, pointing my bike like an arrow and flashing down the trail with ultimate stability, confidence, and a great big traction patch.

You may be thinking, "Well he lost to tallboy in the enduro and now he thinks he needs a new bike to keep up." To that I say

I will crush Tallboy if I have to ride a tricycle. BTW this aggression is part of my new PMA, courtesy of my coach Superdraft. I will comment on it further below.

But the point right now is I "need" a Giant Anthem X29er version 2. Bulldog colors and it matches my Cervelo. Granted it could use a couple up grades: lighter wheels, maybe a 2 x 10 drive train. But check out that 15mm thru axle, press fit bottom bracket, Maestro suspension...excuse me for a moment.

OK I'm back. You know any moment, protesters in Wisconsin could foment rebellion across the country and I could be struck dead by an errantly flung hunk of cheese. I would then have died without ever owning a 29er. Very sad.

In other news, hints of Spring are in the air and Saturday saw the first return of the Antelope Saturday morning ride. We had a great group of riders. Superdraft and Ben S were there

We'd better smile Ben, Dickhead might put this on the internet.

Dan the man made an appearance, always fit and ready to ride:

And Doug tried to bribe me not discuss him on the internet.

Come on Antelope, just put the camera away and Mr. Lincoln goes right into your pocket.

And Lenny was full of cheer.

Oh great, now he's going to start taking pictures of our butts again.

Spinmaster and the Bethinator rounded out the group. Now unbeknownst to me, these clever rapscallions had a prior meeting where they decided they would trick me into pulling 70% of the ride. Appealing to my desire to be a cheetah, they kept telling me how fit I looked.

Have you been losing weight?

Well theirdastardly scheme worked. I endeavored to pull like a mad man and be at the top of every hill first. This was also part of my new "take no prisoners" attitude. You see I have been consulting with Superdraft on how to make a jump in my cycling. When the light hits 'draft just right and he is sharing the wisdom, he looks kind of like Sheldon Brown.

Listen closely young Antelope your real limitations lie in....

Wise cyclists listen well when 'draft dispenses the wiz. Once, Clyde Watts was a weakling who couldn't climb three sets of stairs. After a season with Superdraft he is now an IronMan, with a tattoo and everything.

And 'draft explained that when the hill hurts the worst its about attitude, going beyond self imposed limits, trusting the leap into the abyss of pain. To ride like a beast or to ride like The Beast, one must think like a beast and compete like a beast. Its not about the pair that connects your feet to your hips, its about the other pair.

So I have been practicing my new attitudes, holding in my mind the thought that all people who ride a bike faster than me when I am trying to be faster than them are...evil and unless I pass them, they will destroy innocent children. This is quite a burden for me to bear, saving the world on my bicycle this way but if I can ride faster, produce 10 more watts for 5 more seconds. It will be worth it.

It was a fine ride and many children were saved. But there was a very special moment in the ride where I had to release my ferocity and access the more tender parts of my being. After many months of separation, I finally got to pet my dear, sweet, ass.

Cycle man, u r back!

It was a joyous reunion. The group was clearly moved when we embraced.

I missed you too little Ass

Our hearts lightened, we spun on finishing 60+ miles at over 18.5. A fine day.

AA

ROTY and the SWAG

2011-02-23T17:04:00.000-08:00

Its time for that classic sitcom, ROTY and the SWAG the hilarious exploits of a middle aged bricklayer who dreams of cycling glory but keeps waking up in a decrepit, hairy body that maxes out somewhere under 300 watts of cycling power.

Actually ROTY is my awesome accomplishment of the Winter. I learned straight from the WBL website that I and two other zealots had earned Rookie of the Year, honors.

I have carefully removed my real name so that the "man" at the bricklaying factory cannot connect me to this blog.

I couldn't sleep the other night and saw this posted at about 1AM. I immediately shook my sleeping hot wife, "Huni, huni!" I said, "I am ROTY, I am ROTY!" to which she mumbled, "you're always ROTY, go to sleep, maybe in the morning." Not getting any love or attention there, I called my Mom.

Mom: (sleepily) Hello
AA: Mom its me
Mom: Antelope? Is everything all right?
AA: I'm great, I just called to tell you that I am ROTY of the WBL!
Mom: You're what?
AA: I'm ROTY! You know, rookie of the year! Riding with the Cheetahs.
Mom: (silence)
AA: Mom are you there?
Mom: You woke me up to tell me some cycling thing?
AA: Yeh, isn't that great?
Mom: (click)

I wasn't even able to tell her the other big news. On last Satuirday's ride I got extra pointage for my heroic chase:

A man and his bicycle, oh the places we will go. What once was a quiet and unremarkable existence has been transformed into a universe of celebrity encompassing my imagination and the adoration of at least one of our housecats. In the 60's we learned that the personal was political. In the teens, we have learned that the truly unremarkable can pretend to be famous. Oh to be alive in this age! I also want to put up the final documentary evidence that I did make it in with the group last Saturday and was in the picture.

I know its kind of hard to see me. Below I have blown up just my face. It was a pretty tough chase and I may not have looked my best.

Must be in picture...

With my second place in the DirtySpokes 6 hour race, this has been a month of palmares. For 6 hours of racing, aside from the potential shame of being a sandbagger, sore joints, and dehydration, I won some SWAG. If you were wondering, SWAG stands for "souvenirs, wearables and gifts," or "stuff we all get" or "scientific wild ass guess." What comes in beginner 2nd place swag bag? Two samples of chamois butt'r, a coupon for 15% off some bike grips, two samples of electorlyte drink powder, and a pretty sqweet 9er t-shirt that says pedal dammit.

Oh yes, and I got a Chainbuster medal and a beer glass, If I keep training hard and getting on that podium, the Antelope Athens family could be entertaining guests with a complete set of 6 Chainbuster authentic beer tumblers. Sweet.

But I don't want to get ahead of myself. There are many weeks of tough training ahead to make sure that I put "Tallboy" and the other competition in the rear view mirror on the trail. Fortunately Superdraft is there for me every Wednesday making sure I put in 50+ during the dark months. that and a few rides in the fighter jet draft of Clyde's wheel and I should be ready.
AA

WBL Finale: In the Pic!

2011-02-20T05:46:00.000-08:00

Saturday was an incredible day for riding. Temps in the low 70s sunny. A planned 70 miles jaunt up to Maysville and a last chance to leave it on the tarmac in my young WBL career as off the back fodder.

The ride was sponsored by Athenschirohealth.com which put up free massages to winners. This seems counter intuitive as the people off the back desperately huffing and puffing probably need the massages more, but to the victors go the spoils I guess.

So on a 70 mile ride I was confident I would be in the pack until the start of the sprint zone at about mile 55. And this was true. Notable happenings in the ride include a young guy named Parker riding without his jersey and his shorts hiked up so he could get more sun on his skinny bod. he also switched bib straps taking one and then the other down so he wouldn't get bib strap tan lines. Despite myself, the Jefe and other older folks roundly ridiculing this behavior, Parker endured, secure in the fact that we were irrelevant old buzzards and that chicks dig a dude without cycling tan lines.

At the store stop, several young guns discovered new method of hydration involving BudLight. It must have worked because every guy who drank a bud light came in way ahead of me.

And to the sprint zone. I actually found myself pulling the last 2-3 miles for the sprint zone with Tan Line Boy, but I felt great and the pace was perfect, so I didn't sweat it. Sometimes it actually feels better to pull, there's a sense of control regarding the pace and not having to worry about the wheel in front. TanLineBoy told me to give the first hill everything I had because the pace would let up a bit afterward. It was good advice. We turned onto the Seagraves Rd and the whistle blew. I ignored several attacks (which is not too difficult when you lack the ability to accelerate an addition 6 mph on a hill!) looking for the right wheel to hang on and fought my way up the hill. I was still with the main group so far. The break away began coalescing into a front group with mainly elite guys. A second group of slightly less elite guys was forming and I was fighting to stay with them. I hung for awhile but a 2 second gap opened. I was right there, but damn I just couldn't make the bike go any faster and I watched the second group begin to pull away.

Mike who owns the building where AthensChiropracticHealth will be moving to soon, is an older dude, who doesn't look like he would be a mega-hammer but he is. As I was fading, he pulled up to me and said, "hey they are only 5 seconds ahead, we can catch them." Now my rational mind thought, "what bullshit. I've never 'caught' a group after being dropped." But I thought, hell, maybe this guy know something. And the chase was on. We ranged from 2-4 people and Mike kept us in order. I worked my ass off. I haven't hurt so bad since last Wed trying not get ridden off of Clyde's TT wheel. We never caught the second group really, but we did catch the pack about a mile after the sprint line.

Success! I would cruise home with group and be there for picture. I ended the WBL season 22nd with 24 points, a mere 65 points away from taking it all. Maybe next year.
AA

The Real Tall Boy Dishes Out the Watts

2011-02-17T04:24:00.000-08:00

Who needs motorpacing when they have the infamous Clyde Watts on caffeine on their mid week training rides? It was a good thing back in January when Clyde had been off the bike for 3 weeks that I took advantage of Clyde's lack of fitness to punish him on a few hills. It is likely the last time I will ever see Clyde in the rear view mirror again. It doesn't take long for an Iron Man to make the rest of us look like tin men. Here he is with Superdraft before the ride.

You lookin for a Tall Boy? Try to keep up Streak.

Clyde rode up heavily doped on caffeine and without his typical swim or 10 mile run before the ride. He was representing big time, now a sponsored athlete with All 3 Sports in ATL and ready to pull us to Monroe on his TT bike.

So the usual Wed ride, 50+ at 17-18? No chance. This was harder than the WBL. 3 times Clyde turned on the overdrive on long flat sections and just rode me off his wheel maintaining speeds in the upper 20s until I was crying for mercy. Who needs motorpacing? If I can stay on Clyde's wheel once a week until March 19th that other "Tall Boy" won't stand a chance in the next enduro race.
AA

Chainbuster#1: Lessons in stupidity and pain

2011-02-14T17:39:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning the WBL rolled out without me as I was already 15 minutes into a solo enduro ride at Heritage Park. Race season is upon me already and that means...

I had spent the last week desperately trying to get my MTB legs under me. Usually this involves applying blood and scabs to specific anatomical destinations

and practicing the core skill of mountain biking which involves basically not hitting trees.

Shit, who put that tree in the middle of the trail.

I signed in for the beginner class solo 6 hour and was pleased to have time to visit the bathroom for the third time that morning. I missed the instructions during this time but I thought, "hey I know the rules, no sweat!" This thought however, would prove wrong in really stupid ways. The rules I thought I knew pertained to a different series. In that series, you could go out on another lap as long as you started it before the 6 hour mark. so if it was 5:59 when you crossed and you felt you could complete another lap by 6:59 you are welcome to go for it. Oddly, I did hear the announcer say that awards would be given at 4:30 sharp, which would be impossible by the rules I remembered as people would still be finishing until 4:59. Being a bricklayer by profession, I am not really the brightest bulb in the bulb aisle and so let this little bit of contradiction waft through my fluffy brain without a second thought.

I knew from practice I could do laps in the 52-55 minute range and so 6 laps should be reasonable; what I wondered was, should I try to do 7 using the extra time if I completed 6 before 6 hours?

But let's start at the beginning. The crowding made the first lap pretty mellow and I decided to just relax and not worry, it was going to be a long day. There were some slick places that would only get worse and I didn't want to eat too much mud. So I worked on my efficiency and began nailing down lap after lap. I felt pretty good for the first 3-4 laps. It was definitely careful going for me as some areas just got muckier and muckier. Laps 5 and 6, well, those really hurt. My arms and shoulders were tired and the hills burned my thighs. I didn't cramp though so my new routine of tonic water, tums, and gatorade seemed to be working. Welcome to solo endurance racing.

The last two laps I found myself often following a fellow on a Santa Cruz Tall Boy. This a sweet new model full suspension 29er. Only medical professionals can afford them in computer geniuses in Atlanta can afford them:

I talked with the guy briefly as I thought he was someone else and then was just too in pain to make much conversation. I began to call him "Tall Boy" in my mind as I tired to distract myself from suffering with inner coversation: "There's tall boy again. I wonder what category he's racing in? That tall boy really has a slow cadence. I wonder how much Tall Boy's bike cost? I bet I'd be really fast with Tall Boy's bike. He probably has too much money, I'm sure he steals it from widows and orphans. Oh look, tall boy again!"

Had I been wise enough to actually ask Tall Boy about his category I would learn that, coincidentally, he was racing...me! and we were the front of our race. There were some important differences between Tall Boy and myself that should be noted. First of all, I would later find out that I am several inches taller than Tall Boy, he just looks tall because his wheels are 3 inches bigger than mine. Second, I was stronger than tall boy last Saturday, though not as bright, And third, Tall Boy knew the correct rules of the race, unlike me.

So sometime in lap 6, I'd say with about 2 miles to go in the lap, Tall Boy cracks like me in the WBL sprint zone and I easily spin past him for what should have been for good. In the meantime, I am simply obsessed with the question, "should I try a 7th lap?" I also begin to get worried about some strange activity in my drive train and I'm worried it will seize up if I don't clean it out as all kinds of debris gets in there and can really cause a catastrophic failure. I also only have a little water on board. So I think, well I could just push it and do as good as I can for 6 laps and hope no one else goes out, or I could make a quick pit (which is about 100 yards before the finish line) spray off my rear derailleur and grab another water. so that's what I decide to do. I'll pit quickly and then ask the guy at the finish line if anyone is going out for a 7th lap. While I'm pitting, I hear a bike go by. Had I looked up, I would have seen Tall Boy. I didn't look up, I grabbed a banana instead, and rolled to the finish line eating a banana. I ask the guy, "I'm in solo beginner, do i need to go out for another lap? He says, you can't, there's only 25 minutes left, you would have to do the fastest lap in history. I said, "don't I have to the end of the 7th hour to finish?" and he said, "no, man everyone has to be in by 6 hours exactly."

Well I was relieved not to go out again. I had no idea how I did and wandered around for about 30 minutes in a stupor before someone told me the results were over at the Maxxis table.

I'm thinking you know how this ends, right? I got second place in my category by, get this, 3 seconds. Tall Boy was the bike I heard whizzing by while I was grabbing a banana and spraying water on my derailleur.

I have been having Tall Boy nightmares ever since. I have 4 weeks to train before the next Enduro. I really hope Tall Boy is there.
AA

In the Pic: Doin Hard Labor

2011-02-07T17:37:00.000-08:00

Oh yeh baby, I haven't been in the WBL picture at the end of the ride since I cut off 10 miles on the windy day from hell. Last Saturday, however....

Antelope Athens 5th from the left!

Now you may be thinking, my god what happened? Did an antelope actually stay with the big boys close enough through the final sprint zone to come home with the pack? Who hooked that boy up with the performance enhancers?

I best start from the beginning. Like all great Saturday stories in Winter, this one began at Sunshine Cycles in downtown around 10:15. It was cloudy and wet as we pulled out heading towards Watkinsville for the Hard Labor ride. It was a well controlled pace and I had no trouble staying with the bunch. As we headed West into the wind, the sun finally poked through and we had a mostly beautiful day. Really the only thing that could cast a shadow on a great ride after the sun came out was 5 miles through Monroe, the armpit of Georgia. The people are nice enough when we rode through, though, it's a rough looking little town. Monroe is so ugly they had to photoshop together 3 buldings, a water tower, and a monument in the city web page to make it look livable. Seriously, here it is:

Come visit Monroe! We have 3 buildings that aren't dilapidated, really.

After Monroe there was a long road called Gratis to a little town I had never heard of called, "Gratis." Gratis isn't actually a town but a "community." Not to be confused with the Georgia Registration and Title Information System (GRATIS), the REAL Gratis is in Walton County and is known to wikipedia:

In fact the wikipedia page had been updated in Jan 11 so we know someone in Gratis has a computer. The clerk at the store was a lovely young lady, who exclaimed, "I've never seen so many bicyclists before." She was probably a little younger than my son, so having no shame I immediately began flirting with her.

No I don't want to go for a ride with you old man, woof

I have fond memories of the gatorade I drank last Saturday and so plan to make sure I hit visit Gratis again this summer. Saving up my 5 bucks for the big show.

And so the first 50 or 60 miles passed without incident. An amazing thing has happened to me from the WBL rides. I can now ride 60 miles on less than 2 bottles of gatorade. I do have to carry a urine recycler but I haven't dehydrated yet.

After the store stop we were 10 miles or so from the intermediate sprint over the Beaverdam reservoir. Again I managed to be in completely the wrong place for this non pro sprint--just behind three guys who weren't interested and let a gap open up with the front. I felt good and so wanted to be in the action. I yelled "coming through" and went by on the right in full sprint trying to cross the gap. I realize that I am the only cyclist in that group who yells "coming through." Real racers just suddenly occupy space including whatever space someone else is occupying that they want. I haven't figured out how to do that yet so I have to yell. I'm fairly proficient at using my voice to occupy space, actually.

I tried to get to the sprint group but it was too late. I am determined, the next time there is a non pro sprint to make sure I am near the front and can give it a go.

We regrouped and cruised into town heading for the real reason I was in the picture last Saturday---the final attack zone was a circuit. It started just before the pink church and I was summarily dropped on the hill climbing toward the pink church from the east and straggled into the pink church parking lot with about 10 others to wait 20 minutes for group to go around the 7 miles circuit. Two guys sprinted for the line and this guy, named Thomas Brown won by a wheel over J Rosskpf.

:I'm not sure who T Brown rides for now but he was a Jittery Joes U25 pro and the other guy is Team Type 1 Developmental Pro. These are some seriously fast dudes. The cheetah Jefe came in first among the non pros about 8th place back. Pretty amazing for a guy almost 50. Even when they go gray, these old cheetahs are fierce.

First I am on your wheel, then I am on your throat!

So I ended the ride with 83 miles instead of 90 and with so few miles in my legs was even able to stay awake until 9pm that night.

With only 2 WBLs left, through sheer determination, showing up, and a unique ability to sign my name to a sheet of paper, I am tied for 17th place with 5 other rides, a mere 39 points off the leader.

Next Saturday, I won't be adding to the total, however. I am taking my long winter miles to the trail to contest the 6 hour solo endurance race at Heritage Park. I think this is really going to hurt.
AA

The Epic To Alto

2011-02-02T17:06:00.000-08:00

If you dream about riding like a cheetah, they say you must, to the best of your ability, ride with the cheetahs, think like a cheetah, and yes, even pee like a cheetah.

When the whistle blows, pull over to the grass, straddle your top tube, pull your bib down and hang over the side. Remember, cheetahs don't pee on their shoes, you can tell when there are rusty cleats.

Some things cheetahs do seem like mad dreams to your typical antelope. For example, gravity seems to have no effect on cheetahs.

This is particularly apparent when trying to climb hills with a pride of them. I have decided that there must be some kind of biological differences between myself and the Cheetahs and sure enough I have found evidence.

Note: While furry cheetahs might need to rest 311 times, the hairless WBL cheetahs actually could make 249k in 2 hours and 26 minutes.

This was on the internet so you know it must be true. Now most cheetahs will tell you that their speed and endurance is not from their biology, but comes through hard work and the ability to withstand extreme amounts of pain. This means, since I can't keep up that I must either be not working hard enough or simply too wimpy to take the necessary pain.

Once again on Saturday, I was setting out with the Cheetahs on one of the most famous WBL rides each year, Alto. 111 miles to the foothills of mountains. There was a sprint zone before the first rest stop at mile 50, something called "Crackback Hill" at miles 70 and the final sprint zone around mile 90. Wanting to keep my goals reasonable I decided that a great day would be finishing 111 miles and leaving the store stop with the group.

The route north was awesome. 25 miles in we hit commerce and there were 3 police cars waiting to escort us through town. Cooool. I felt good I felt strong. I couldn't understand, however, why there weren't people thronging the street to cheer us on but it was sweet cruising through all the traffic lights at 25mph. The roads north of commerce towards Alto were gently rolling and on a sunny day, it was a great ride. I felt fine as we approached the sprint zone at mile 42. The whistle blew and as usual we were confronted with the first real hills of the day. There were 3 in the first 4 miles of the sprint zone. I hung tough through the first but couldn't hang on through the second, slipping back, back, back, off of the back. Oh well.

Crack: Hill #2 on the way to Alto store stop

Hill 3 was really steep, or I was just tired because I had to stand and gear into granny to get over it. About 5 other riders caught me (I wasn't the first to crack!) as we turned right for a flat 3 miles to the stop. We cooperated nicely and made the store stop not too long after the main group (I don't know this for a fact but it feels better to believe it). One goal accomplished for the day. The next leg was 10 miles of significant rollers including a really fast downhill on our way to crack back. I was starting to feel the ride and no surprise, was popped off the back on crackback almost immediately. In fact I am pretty sure I was the last person up that hill.

Hey, wait for me, I'll be there eventually

There was a massive slow down so everyone could regroup and recover after Crackback and I heard that Matt Karzen, Antelope Fall Classic participant and local legal eagle got third for the non pro 1/2 category on crack back. Way to go Matt! Matt is also a major Antelope Athens supporter always giving me a kind word of encouragement when I am slipping off the back.

With crackback in the books we were headed back to Commerce. It was a tough hilly 20 miles and I was fading fast. We hit a sustained hill about 80 miles in and I was off the back again. Fortunately for me, the Reverend Lenny was at the wheel of the sag wagon and I dropped into the sweet draft of theSUV to try and catch up. Wow, there is nothing like the draft behind a big car. I was able to recover a bit and get myself back together. At one point we were about 50 yards behind the peloton and I pulled out from behind the SUV to see if I could bridge. A massive wind hit my face and I realized there was no way I could fight through it. I yelled up "too much wind" and went back to my happy place at the back of the SUV. I entered Commerce motorpacing and Lenny maneuvered to about 20 yards behind the pack. This time it was a downhill so I stomped the pedal and swung out from the Reverend's wing and bridged back to the pack. Cool, I thought, I get to cruise through Commerce again with the police escort. And I did, for about a mile before once again they simply crushed a roller and my power was gone. After 85 miles my legs had nothing left to hang on with.

Antelope cracked by Cheetah, Commerce, Ga

Not long after, Lenny discharged from the SUV a dehydrated Cat 3 named Rob. Rob was not happy about his discharge but it worked out great for me as even a dehydrated Cat 3 could handle a lot of wind. So Rob and I cruised home the last 20 miles at modest pace, staying under the "cramp threshold." Rob was pretty pissed at Lenny, although technically the SAG is just for mechanicals not cracks, but I kept that to myself, I needed Rob's help getting home. An experienced racer, Rob gave me the skinny on Cat 5 racing in case I decide to try it, and I learned about his life and family. Really nice guy, enjoyed meeting him and riding with him. We made it back to sunshine in one piece, and I guess the group just couldn't wait the extra hour to let me be in the picture. Oh well. Maybe next week. A pretty epic day. I have ridden Alto.
AA

WBL #7-Philomath is Where I'll Go

2011-01-24T09:31:00.000-08:00

When the world is a monster
Bad to swallow you whole
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in
Throw your trolls out the door
If you're needing inspiration
Philomath is where I go by dawn
Lawyer Jeff he knows the lowdown
He's mighty bad to visit home

This interwebs thing is amazing! In the 80's us REM fans would have to smoke some pot (they hadn't discovered weed yet) crank the HiFi to 11 and spin some vinyl to try and figure out what Michael Stipe was saying. Now, I can google the info without any carcinogenic compounds entering my lungs.

WBL#7? Philomath is where you'll go. A chilly but sunny morning and a definitely more modest sized peloton. Antelope roll call? Reverend Lenny was at the start but shivering like a neurotic chihuahua. Ben Green was there and other than myself that was it. Dan McGarvey was there but he refuses to be identified with antelopes.

I ain't no antelope

It would have been a great day for more antelopes. I think almost everyone would have made it to the 60 mile store stop. The pace was controlled and mellow as the group enjoyed a sunny romp through a strangely massive Oglethorpe County. I had two historic experiences. First we rode through Philomath GA, from the famous REM song. The Cheetah Jefe was riding beside me and we were talking music. He knew the story of the local attorney who told Michael Stipe about hunting for arrowheads in Philomath and had seen REM in 1980 when they were a local band. I also tested my hypothesis that the Humble Chronicler may be a Tom Waits fan. According to the jefe, not so much, the carnivalesque atmosphere of the WBL reports is just a random echo of the more off camber chamber of the Chronicler's psyche. Hmmm quiet waters run, odd.

The second bit of history was personal. I pulled the WBL 1.5 times. Pretty cool. I took a turn with big Matt W who I have decided is some sort of freak of nature because he would eventually stay with the pack in the sprint group over some tough rollers. No mean feat at 6' 9" 260lbs so there are really are no excuses for getting over hills. Matt is an interesting guy. He was a CPA for 2 years after graduation then decided he would rather be wrenching and riding bikes and no amount of money was worth crunching numbers rather than pedals. A man after my own heart. I would give up brick laying during the day except my hot wife depends on me to bring home the soy bacon. I bet if your wife or husband looked like this hot (BTW she's been working out) you'd want to lay as many bricks as possible.

Give up working and ride everyday? Get back to your bricks mister!

So Matt and I pulled for a few minutes and it wasn't too bad. I was breathing pretty hard but Matt was kind enough not to make any breathing sounds so I could more clearly hear the sound of my breath rattling around in my ears. Later I pulled again with a Team Type I developmental guy but after a minute or two a big group came by getting ready for the intermediate sprint.

It was a casual feeling ride and everyone, especially me, was chatty. Or maybe I was the only one chatty and a parade of guys was forced to endure listening to me chat on endlessly. I talked with Team Type I guys, the jefe, Matt, a recent PHD guy who studies birds, Macon bears. It was seriously mellow up to the store stop at 60 miles in. Then the pace picked up on some rollers for about 10 miles heading towards the sprint zone and I was on the rivet but hanging tough. I happened to be next to the Cheetah Jefe who seemed not to notice the need for any sort of effort as he continued to casually chat until he seemed to notice that I (a) wasn't responding, (b) was in the drops, and (c) was emitting a rattling wheeze. So he found someone else to chat with.

Before I knew it, the Cheetah Jefe had a whistle in his mouth which means the sprint zone was coming up.

Let the madness begin!

This is an important mental preparation time as riders know that it's time to either be the hammer or the nail.

The whistle blew as we turned on to Lake Hargrove for a 9 mile attack zone. I know this road well, especially the three hills that make it interesting. As the pace picked up the flow got really strange. Everyone wanted to be the on the outside and we were basically in one long line. I had trouble figuring out how to stay on a wheel. I managed to hang though through the first hill and up to the base of the second. Of course that's when the hammer really went down.

Time to hurt boys (and girl)

I was not getting up the second hill on Lake Hargrove with the main pack of the WBL this day.

CRACK: ANTELOPE ATHENS, HILL #2

With about 6 miles of sprint zone and 13 miles of ride left, I put my head down and tried to minimize the damage. It was a tough effort and while I did my best to minimize the gap, I not only missed the group picture, but the main pack had already pitched their hammocks and were well in to their post ride naps when I rolled in.

Hey wake up, let's take the picture.

90 miles, double digit miles per hour. Next week, Alto, 110 miles of WBL madness. I can't wait,

AA

Surviving the Winter

2011-01-20T18:04:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday saw WBL#5 come and go without my antelope butt in the herd. I learned the week prior that although I may becoming a reasonably fit antelope, I am no cheetah. Cheetahs are quite comfortable in snow and ice. I think it may be the claws that help them get a grip in the ice:

Sprint line, where is sprint line, meow

Even though they canceled the sprints, the thought of spinning through patches of ice with 80 people in a double pace line, seemed, well, unwise.

Fortunately, Big RickO held an ice free ride out in Winterville. We carefully picked our way down the roads in blissful safety.

car left, slowing

I have also used this opportunity to bond with my trainer and finish season 2 of True Blood. I am sorry to give this away but Sookie Stackhouse survives the Maenad. I am also happy to report that season 3 has seemed to recapture the spirit of gratuitous nudity. As part of my fartlek training I now sprint for 30 seconds whenever a breast is revealed.

The roads have dried up nicely and yesterday, Superdraft, Clyde Watts and myself did 50+ prior to darting back to our offices to work an extra 4 hours and balance out a mindless universe that doesn't organize itself around cycling. Fortunately, I have a mannequin that looks just like me that I can leave at my brick laying job and no one is the wiser. I program it to repeat common bricklaying phrases in case anyone walks by.

These bricks are heavy, oops right on my toe, no I'm not riding my bike lately

This Saturday the ice will be gone and the WBL will blast off again. 90 miles of pedal rotating with a 9 mile sprint zone. I can't wait.
AA

Reality Bites: WBL#4

2011-01-10T18:28:00.000-08:00

Oh My God. Oh, My, God.

Oh My God.

That was a really tough ride last Saturday. It is Monday and my legs have finally stopped cramping and I managed to leave my bed this morning. I am ready to reflect on last Saturday morning's WBL#4, 92 miles to Bowman Ga.

It was a sunny and cool morning as the riders congregated....

After last week's ride with a hill crackage and then massive crackage at the sprint zone, I knew that I needed to be at my best. I prepared as best I could without actually losing any weight. A mountain bike ride last Monday, a tough 50 miles on Wednesday, yoga, recovery and Saturday was here. We headed out of town on Nowhere Rd and even in the first hour it felt...hard. Roller after roller came and went without any peaceful easy feelings. Since I don't have a cyclocomputer on my bike, I had no idea the pace. I just figured it hurt and that I must be having a bad day. I was determined to hang tough and did manage to survive through the pee break and almost to Bowman. And then the first sign of the day's cyclopocalypse. I swear it seemed to be the exact same grade and length of hill that I barely made it over last week. It was long but the grade started off not too bad. I'm on the front of the saddle with a fairly high cadence for about 2 minutes, when, of course, the death s-quad at the front decided the second half of the hill, which of course got steeper, needed to be felt just a little more deeply... Here is a photo of the death s-quad troops.

Faster, there are antelopes trying to cycle with us

I also snapped a picture of the guy at the front when the hammer went down, I think he is the captain of death-quad cycling team:

The top of his body wouldn't show up on the camera as the guy is only 135lbs. The point is the peloton hit the hill hard and I began to fall back. MarkYMark tried to encourage me...

Hey Kogan, I got your cadence right here!

But it didn't matter, I slid off the back well before the end of the hill.When the front group gets to the top of the hill they make this sound like a war cry, kind of a cross between a long "woohoo!" and and Indian war cry from the movies. Seriously, they make that sound. I am thinking that this warbling call has some sort of meaning like, "hey I'm at the top of the hill and I still have enough wind left to do a warbling war cry!" Of course I now associate this cry with being off the back. Now, in case I am confused about where I am in relation to the peloton, when I hear that call I know I am at least 30 yards behind the last rider and heading backwards.

I did catch up with a few other guys who were off the back and we rolled in 5 miles later into the store stop like Antelopes on parade.

Oh, hi there cheetahs! Been here long? Is there any Gatorade left?

So it was a tough day and I would later find out that the pack had been averaging 22mph according to MarkYMark, not just cheetah pace, but Cheetahs on meth. And that was the easy part of the day, because after a 5 mile stretch of road post rest stop, we turned right heading west or south into a 218 mile per hour head wind for the final 40 miles of the ride. I was already dying before we turned and I thought, I've got to get farther to the front, maybe I am in the accordion and if I got up farther it would feel easier. I took a right turn tight through a gravelly shoulder and got myself back into the front 1/3 just as we faced the wind. The next 400 yards were ridiculous. I though it was just the typical stand up and sprint for 40 yards to catch up after a turn but I stood up, started sprinting in the drops to catch up but wasn't catching up. So, I kept on sprinting, head down, out of the saddle everything I had. Not only was I not catching the wheels ahead, I think 400 riders were rolling by me. I might as well have been walking. I thought, Oh shit, this is going to be a really long day getting dropped with 40 miles to go.

Yummm, the sound of Antelope cracking!

I was not alone, I had company fighting the wind to Watson Mill State Park and beyond towards Winterville. We were an intrepid bunch, ready to fight for every inch of road, fighting for our pride.

Does anyone know a short cut home?

Honey, can you pick me up? I'm so tired I'm starting to look like John Kerry.

Desperate for anything to power my bike in the wind I reached for my secret weapon:

Slow down Cheetahs, I'm coming!

But it wasn't enough. At one point I turned to MarkY and said, "Well I guess we really are antelopes aren't we?" MarkY just laughed. I was glad he was still laughing because earlier, I tried to give him a little assist like I see the other riders doing and nearly pushed him off the road.

Our little group was running out of steam, so in the place where the real ride gee'd, we haw'd and cut off about 10.5 miles from the 92 mile route. Fortunately, 10 miles represented the 30-40 minutes of time that the pack was ahead of us, so we were able to re-join the front group towards the end of the sprint zone.

I'm thinking to myself, "OhMyGod these guys are really strong. What the hell am I doing trying to keep up with these monsters?" Cruising towards home after the sprint, I rode along side the Cheetah Jefe. He said that this was a really fast day and there were a lot of pros pushing the pace.

I talked to another dude in the parking lot after we got back who said he had done every WBL for the last 3 years and that this was the hardest. I'd have been comforted except that he was 70 years old and didn't get dropped until the sprint zone (25 miles after I was dropped).

So I survived an abbreviated route, putting in about 80 miles. I am planning to bring my headphones to future rides so I can listen to music during those long lonely miles in the Georgia countryside dreaming of hanging with the pack. I may not be fast, but dammit I plan to show up.

AA

We're Cycling in the Rain, Just Cycling in the Rain

2011-01-05T17:42:00.000-08:00

Who hasn't read the inspiring and brutally self-aggrandizing passages of Lance Armstrong book where he describes long mountain rides in the rain and cold while his competitors are spinning for an hour a day in their basements through the winter. Of course Lance was a professional cyclist, something he did for a living. He was paid to get on that bike and excel just like I am paid to lay bricks day after day in strategically geometric patterns. Certainly cold and rain would not keep me from brick laying or sharpening my brick construction implements.

But why in the hell was I out in the rain today riding my bike for 50 miles when I could have been (a) laying bricks, (b) watching TV, (c) cleaning the house, (d) spinning on the trainer, or (e) preparing giant Cantaloupe balls for dinner. For that matter why were Superdraft, MarkY Mark, KenS, and Clyde Taint Watts out there with me? Is it some primal warrior spirit trying to erupt from the mollifying masks of civilized life? For crying out loud, KenS is like a zillion years old and retired and he had poor Clyde crying on Price Mill Hill for mercy.

For me the Wednesday ride is imperative to consolidate any gains from surviving WBLs and preparing for the next. Why it is so important to me to do this stuff I have no idea. Endorphins? People telling me, "Hey antelope dude, your riding pretty tight lately." Is my self-esteem so fragile that I have to dedicate myself to some esoteric European sport on a daily basis to derive some meaning in life?

Well, yes. I have come to the conclusion that life is a disease and cycling (and maybe one day grandchildren) are the cure. Well maybe not the cure but it keeps the disease at bay anyway.

So we rode. It wasn't really supposed to drizzle the whole time and then start really saturating us the final 15 miles. It really wasn't so bad the first 35 miles. Great group of guys, KenS was riding super strong, and the Wednesday route is quite nice after the first 10 miles up and down new high shoals. By Fairplay it was getting a bit old as everyone's clothes were soaking and the temperature was heading southward. We survived and put in a solid 50 at 17.5.

Given the epic-ness of today's ride I have updated the Antelope Survival Challenge to give points to Clyde, Ken, Marky, and Superdraft. Ken rode in dominating style without a complaint--2 points. Marky decided he didn't need a jacket or shoe covers and so gets 2 points for hypothermia. Clyde, 2 points for taking his whupping like a man, making no excuses despite not having ridden for 3 weeks. Superdraft gets 2 points for overcoming a tendency to avoid cold wet weather (why would someone do that?) and for looking so miserable in Fairplay.

By the way, you know that asshole you ride with who you can usually beat but if you like have pneumonia or haven't ridden in a month, he will take that opportunity to race you up every hill? Well I am that asshole. Like a hyena or a jackal I wait for the competition to be wounded and then I strike. Am I proud? No. But dammit, every so often I want to be up that hill first and see other people dropping away. hey if I could do it against healthy, fit people, I would. I'm just taking what I can get. This may also explain the nickname I earned and why my wife gave me this cool jersey which I feel I must include in every post this week:

You haven't ridden in a month? No I won't hammer on the hills, I promise!

Of course this is not necessarily a moral failing. It could be genetic or biological and thus there is nothing to be done about this behavior. Just look at these guys, this definitely supports the biology theory:

Big rides on Saturday, if you didn't get wet outside, better get on that trainer.
DH

Antelope or Canteloupe?

2011-01-04T18:43:00.000-08:00

I was enjoying a sunny but windy ride on Sunday with my Nitty Gritty friends. I was chatting amiably with Ann who was riding her awesome new, custom steel Waterford bike when she said, "so you must ride with those cantalopes from the Wednesday night ride."

Cantalopes? Cantaloupes?

So I guess that while we can try on nicknames that we hope to have, like the very graceful and very fast (just not quite as fast as Cheetahs) Antelope; the ones that really stick are given by others. Kind of like when I was a kid and I hoped everyone would call me "Slick" or "Stud" but they just wouldn't stop calling me "Stinky" and "Dickhead." Given the way nicknames evolve it may well be the case that Cantaloupe comes to stand for the vast numbers of local, primarily middle age, male cyclists who dream of being fast but keep bumping up against obstacles like age, talent, training time, will power, and of course lack of enough money for a really fast bike. In case this is inevitable, I decided I should explore and perhaps embrace the consequences of a name change.

As usual, I google search images for inspiration. I would need to have a new image for the blog and a new theme.

And I was laying on the ground ready to be picked when I dropped my chain and got passed.

We would need distinctive helmets. My cat Lucifer came up this idea:

Lucy crack you like egg, wheel sucker!

Of course it has already been pointed out that while many (C)antelopes may not be svelte around the middle, we have butts like 2 ripe...

Are you staring at my cantaloupes again?

Admittedly, a grazing Cantalope doesn't really look very fast:

Uhhh, Moo? Baah? Maah? Whatever.

I have identified the perfect song entitled "Cantaloupes" by the band "Darkbuster" for this new cycling group.

Of course while Cantelopes are generally prized for their sweetness, freshness, and firm round goodness, there are also some unfortunate cases of Cantelope abuse.

And many people may take references to Cantalopes for genitalia or other body parts:

But all in all, I believe I am ready to embrace this new group nickname if it comes to pass, just like I have learned to embrace my other nicknames. For example, here I am in the new jersey my wife just got me.

May you hammer like a thousand fresh cantaloupes rolling down a steep hill.
AA

WBL #4: The Antelope Story

2011-01-01T12:38:00.000-08:00

The history books belong to the Cheetahs. Someone must tell our story.

WBL #4 is in the books and sometime today the story of the ride will be written by the Cheetah Jefe and his Humble Chronicler. In a style somewhere between the commentary of legendary cyclist Sean Taylor, a post Rain Dogs Tom Waits song, and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, the drama, the suffering, the irony, and the "epic-ness" of the day will be immortalized. Like all history, however, it is written by the powerful, those who hammer with the gods or at least with the Cat 3's. Cycling history is writ from the front of the pack, those wimpering, cracked packs of riders at the back worth barely a footnote if that. But who really suffered? The winners, the powerful who could stay in the hunt and on a wheel through a 7 mile sprint zone pregnant with rollers? Or the stragglers, fighting wind and physics with grim determination to minimize the gap, to never quit.

We are the antelope and this is our story.

Friday, the final day of 2010 dawned clear and beautiful as cyclists from all over North Georgia converged on downtown Athens for 75 miles of pedal rotation. The day was dedicated to Big Cappy, the grizzled cabinet maker of Cappy's Custom Cabinets fame. Cappy was kind enough to pose for a pre-ride photo.

Custom only man, and you don't want to know why they call me "Big" Cappy

Even Cappy's cabinets look fast:

No Antelope undies in the top drawer please.

Here is a cabinet that was made for Big Cappy's son, Little Cappy who is also a cheetah.

Shhh, don't tell Lil Cappy I was in his cabinet.

Several antelopes showed up for Cappy's WBL. Aside from the lack of race team kits, you can usually tell the Antelopes by their hairy legs.

L-R: Sean, JimK, BenSee, Marky

The Cheetah Jefe got everyone together and laid down the law.

If anyone crosses the yellow line, you will be sorry as illustrated in this next picture....

That's my line pinhead.

A healthy sized peloton headed off to the north to the wilds of Jackson County and beyond. Just getting out of Athens disaster struck and someone had a crash and got hurt. Two riders were out and the peloton paused for medical help to arrive. Fortunately the word today is that everyone is going to be OK. The chief Cheetah, always safety conscious again emphasized the importance of paying attention and staying focused, good advice for all.

Stay awake people!

The next 20 miles were awesome. Easy rollers, I was in the top 20-25 of the pack and I was never in distress. I started to think, "hey, maybe I'm getting used to this cheetah riding." Of course this is a dangerous thought and some evil skinny man with shaved legs decided to taste the wind on a long hill about 30 miles into the ride. It was a long hill, I geared down and started spinning for all I was worth. I stayed tough the first half when evil skinny man at the front, decided, "hmmm the hill seems to be getting steeper and there is a good 1/4 mile of climbing to go, I think I will elevate the pace by about 3mph." Seriously, this is exactly what he thought, I have proof.

Hee hee, watch the fatties suffer!!!!

I went from about 20th in the pack to about 80th, just cresting the hill before I was off the back. A kindly Mercer Bear I met before the ride offered words of encouragement as he passed me but what I needed was a push. Where is big Tim Joyce when you need him. That dude can sling you up a hill. Of course even though I made it over the hill the skinny devil was still at the front so we commenced to hit the next 5 miles of rollers at a breakneck pace and I was gasping to hang on to the store stop. I have taken to rating my cracks in my head. Since cracks are going to happen, I've decided to work on minimizing the size and breadth of my crackage. I am working on minimal crackage versus massive crackage. Because I did hang on, I consider this incident a moderate crack and registered it as such.

Mile 30- Registered Crack, Antelope Athens

The store stop was healing and the group resumed a steady pace heading back to Commerce from Maysville. Little did I understand what lay in the future as we cruised to the epic portion of the day, the 7 mile sprint zone once we turned on Nowhere Rd. A guy I had been chatting with told me, that the next turn was it, and suddenly, well, everyone slowed down. I thought cool, maybe people will watch each other for a few miles. Yeh right. The Cheetah Jefe took off and everyone was in a flurry to follow. I was pretty much at the front third but despite getting in my drops and getting out of the saddle, there was no way to stay with the main group much less even see the break away. Drafting was irrelevant. At top speeds antelopes just can't hang. So I desperately tried to hang on to the stronger wheels who also were getting dropped. Let's be clear, 70 or more people took off down the road without me. This was massive crackage.

Oh dear, the peloton seems to be leaving me behind,

I settled in for 7 miles of gut busting, thigh burning effort to minimize the damage and try to catch the pack by Athens. I wound up pulling some guys including MarkY and BenSee and even put a hurting on some skinny guys who were having problems maintaining power on the rollers. It hurt but we all fought on and I finally crossed the sprint line ahead of my little grupo (I'll take whatever I can get) just in time to climb that last ridiculous hill on Nowhere Rd. I kept the pressure on wanting to catch the pack before downtown and with the help of a few red lights we all climbed JJ's Roaster hill together. It was a festive atmosphere with adult beverages and camaraderie. I may have had some crackage but I was in with the group and qualified for 4 Antelope Survival points along with MarkY Mark and BenS.

I have had a conversation with my legs and they assure me that I will be able to leave the bed and put weight on them two days hence. Time to train for next Saturday!

AA

One Crack Wednesday and How Cheetahs Pee

2010-12-30T16:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I enjoyed the super secret pedal rotation fest with the Chief Cheetah. We had about 12 guys and the pace was perfect. I had a great ride except for, wait for it, one steep hill at around mile 45. Every so often the group hits a long hill hard and I just can't hang. This time I remembered young Sean's clever tactic from last Wednesday for hiding weakness. I came down with a stifling bout of hunger. I just could not hammer for one more second without slowing for a tantalizing morsel. Fortunately , the moment was caught by the secret camera man who has been following me for several months.

Hey guys, I'd pull you up this grade but I am just starving.

I would like to note as if it matters, that I was not the last one up the hill, and although the other guy was not really fit enough for the ride in the first place and wound up not finishing, I was at least 30lbs heavier than him. In case you wondered, MarkY Mark was riding and had no problem keeping up with the group up the hill. With his new pro-ride giant bike which has a seat mast instead of a seat post, MarkY just puts out a sail and the wind blows him down the road.

MarkY Mark's new Pro Bike with mast and sail

Actually Marky just gets up those hills because he's damn strong. And let's be clear, I may have gotten cracked, but it was an awfully steep hill. Like this.

Come Climb Me Little Antelope

And this thing kept biting my thighs the whole time.

Hmmm quad, yummy

An interesting thing about cheetahs and the Reverend Lenny that I have observed is that they never eat or drink. If they bring a bottle it is only one and that is just for show; they never take a sip. They also never eat or leave their bikes during a store stop. They do however, pee just like the rest of us. Have a loo here at these photos of different members of the peloton at the pee stop.

Antelope at 1 hour Pee Break

Cheetah Pees at 1 Hour Pee Break

So while there are many differences between the species, we both pee in a pretty similar manner. Anyway we finished about 65 miles mostly at 19.8 per big Matt's fancy new Garmin although I hoped MarkY's Cateye rate of 20.2 was closer.

In other news, I have updated the Antelope Survival Standings to reflect BenSee's participation in WBL #1 and I have given 2 points to Jeffey for epic bravery and survival of pain. Evidently he has been off the bike due to some surgery but I hear he is on the mend. Heal up fast Jeffey.

Tomorrow is WBL#4, 80 miles of hammer in absolutely perfect weather. Who will survive? Who will come home with the pack? I'm ready to roll.
AA