Deskjockey Cyclist

Quest to find the Fosmark family farm

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 15 Feb 2015 16:32:00 +0000

A day and a half between meetings in Europe led to a bright idea from Heidi - "what about making your first trip to Norway?"

With a little encouragement from her (along with some from cousins Eric & Brian), I grabbed a cheap ticket to Bergen and started planning.

Fossmark (spelled with two S's in Norway) is about 30 minutes outside of Bergen - a beautiful port town on the western Fjords of Norway.

Flying in gives an awesome view of the raw beauty of a Norwegian Winter.

The port fish market buildings are beautiful.

As is the funicular in the center. The weather was sunny and warm and families were out in droves enjoying the 40 degree weather.

As beautiful as Bergen is, it was time to drive up the coast towards Voss and the village of Fossmark.

Village would be generous. I almost blew by the farm the first time. Luckily, it's marked by a sign for the Fossmark tunnel, and the farm is just beyond the exit to the tunnel.

The old family farm is only about 10-15 acres (no wonder they emigrated - it would have been hard to live beyond subsistence here). The land drops right into the Fjord and today there are 4-5 structures. I have to admit, I was so excited to be just standing there. If it hadn't been 9a on a Sunday morning, I would have knocked on the door of the farmhouse.

Proof that we are related - XC skis leaning against the barn:

The view over the Fjord from the farm to the right:

And to the left:

The Fjord along the route to the farm is beautiful.

Looking up the Fjord towards the farm:

Brian & Eric - definitely worth adding this to your May itinerary. It's beautiful and easy to get to from Bergen.

Grandpa and Grandma Fosmark loved to take us for fish and chips, so in honor of that memory, I headed back to Bergen to cap the day with some.

It was a lifelong dream of my dad's and mine to go here together. I could feel his smile today.

Lotoja 2014

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 16 Sep 2014 00:54:00 +0000

Hey gang –

You asked for it (you made me do this!), so you got it. Here’s a [brief] report on Lotoja.

By the numbers:

Distance: 204.5 miles

Climbing: 9,000 feet

Avg. Speed: 19mph

The Story (in five parts):

The cool thing about this day is that we ride as a team. 7 guys, no drop. All for one, one for all. Heck, we even wear the same kit, all matchy-matchy like. The goal is to have a great day on the bike and finish in less than 12 hours and beat sundown (you get an automatic DNF if you come in after dark). That means we have to keep moving. Andrew Tappe and his friend (and now mine) Tai Bright have assembled a great group of guys. We agreed to 10 minutes per stop, no more. Nobody wants to go 204 miles only to DNF!

(L-R) Andrew, me, Todd, Jason, Tai, Chad, Jose

The 1^st 30 miles – flat, cold and fun:

All for one took a blow at the start. I got slotted by the organizer into a start group 6 minutes behind the rest of the guys. No exceptions on hopping up into a different wave, so the guys murmured something about soft pedaling until I caught them. Tai introduced me to 3 friends of his in my wave. I assumed we’d collaborate to catch Andrew and Tai’s pack. You know what happens when you assume…

At the start, I went to the front and pulled at 24 mph. There were 100 riders in our start group, so it was fun to look back and see how long the pack stretched out along the roads out of Logan, UT (a town surrounding by rolling mountains on both sides).

As soon as I hit speed, I was asked to slow down to 19-20mph and was given the message that the leaders had a plan to save their energy for later. So, I took my spot in the rotation of four at the front. Each time it was my turn, I punched it a bit, only to find myself alone 50 yards off the front.

The other three in rotation were pretty erratic when it came to holding a line. At mile 10, that came to roost. I was in 3^rd position in line and rider one swerved, took out the front wheel of rider two and he went down in a flash right front of me. I swerved and missed him my a hair.

The pack was not so lucky – about 15 people went down, some hard. The sound of bike and human meeting pavement is not a good sound.

I stopped, circled back, got Tai’s friend’s bike back in order, back on his bike and checked on a few other riders. Luckily, only road rash and some sore joints. Then went to work to pull him back to the pack. We caught them a few miles later.

I stayed at the front, a bit freaked out by all of the erratic riding. At mile 27, a pack came by from the back, and I decided to hop on.

Now we were flying at 25mph. Much better. I like these guys! Unfortunately, it would only last 3 miles. A few hills into the first rest stop at mile 30 thinned out the group and we came into town about a group of 15.

I sort of thought I might see Andrew & Tai’s group waiting at the rest stop, so I rode through the entire stop to see if they were waiting at the exit but, no luck.

Unfortunately, everyone else in my little pack stopped for support, so I was alone. Not good for what was to come next.

Queue the internal whining.

Section 2: 47 miles, including Strawberry climb

Leaving the rest stop leads to a right turn right up a canyon and into a steady wind. Not good to be alone. To add insult to injury, the race bible warns that this section is 22 miles uphill, including two 7% climbs.

Out alone, I hopped from group to group just sort of time trialing in the wind by myself.

Then it got worse. My seat felt low and I looked down and could see the post slipping. That meant two stops to fix it and dial in the right height.

I started doing the dark math: 6 minutes behind at the start, 10 minutes lost to the crash, another 10 to the seat issues. The odds of catching the guys was bleak!

Then it got even worse. The sky turned black and it got cold. Like 40s cold. Then the rain came down. Steady and really cold (too early to start daydreaming of a hot shower?).

The internal whiny voice became gnashing of teeth. It was stinkin’ cold! AND WE WERE CLIMBING!

Misery loves company and with about 7 miles of climbing to go, I settled in with a father in a Norwegian champions jersey (a sign Mom?) and his super fit son who set a great tempo up the climb. Thanks to their help, the climbs in these sections were PRs.

Was so psyched to get to the top and see Andrew, Tai and the rest of the gang. They had waited in the rain at the top (thanks guys!).

60 miles of solo chasing came to an end. Whew!

The organizers gave Andrew and Tai some trash bags while they waited. Those went pretty fast, so Andrew grabbed me a piece of a cardboard box to stuff in my jersey to help me keep warm on the descent (it worked).

We flew down the went descent for 15 miles and then out onto the flats to get to the first supported food stop at mile 75.

Special Callout: Tai’s wife and daughter (Vicki and Lakeyn) do an amazingly long day of support. They speed from stop to stop and log over 250 miles in the car. Tai had cooked up some amazing rice cakes and boiled potatoes. Vicki and Lakeyn met us with our food and Tai’s treats at each stop. Huge!

Section 3 – the KOM section.

Get to mile 108 and you’ve knocked off the bulk of the climbing in Lotoja. However, between mile 75 and mile 108, you’re going up.

It felt so good to finally be with the guys, we climbed steadily up the Geneva climb and waited about 20 minutes for the last rider in our group. That made one of us (no names) a little ansty about moving on.

Much like being the slowest skier in a pack, the slowest climber comes to the top and doesn’t get a rest – as soon as he gets to the top, the rest of the guys take off!

We descended a bit and then began climbing again.

Andrew drilled it and Tai and I followed just behind him up the final climb of the day to the peak of Salt Creek. Another set of PRs.

108 miles in and I felt WAAAY better then last year (infamous photo of last year at this point – “Lord, please let it be over.”)

That was last year, this year was different!

Next section: 50 miles. Goal: get to Alpine for the right turn into the Snake River Canyon and the final push to Jackson Hole.

Mostly flat with wind. Andrew and I hammered with a friend of Tai’s named Ken. The three of us rotated and averaged 22-25mph all along a beautiful valley.

We met Vicki and Lakeyn and loaded up on food. Grabbed Tai and the gang of 7 and we were off.

Last Section: 50 miles.

Getting to 160 miles and feeling good means you’ve made it. You still have a Harvard ride to go, but the scenery is breathtaking.

The valley climbs steadily, and Andrew, Tai, Jose and I set a great tempo, climbing 1-2% for 25 miles.

About 25 miles to go and the Tetons come into view. It gets really hard to think about anything but the finish line.

Rather than being exhausted, Andrew takes off to get a Strava segment on a climb and Jason and I stupidly chase after him. We descended together and waited for the rest of the group to roll the last 15 miles together through Jackson and then out to Teton Village.

The horse smelled the barn with 5 miles to go and Andrew took off. I turned to Tai and asked if he wanted to go with him. All I got in return was a grunt! So Todd, Tai, Jose and I held a steady 22mph and let our big buddy go.

There is nothing like going to the edge of your physical limits and finishing!

Andrew has done 7 of these and bagged a special honor!

Staying an extra day in Jackson Hole ain’t so bad…

Wake up to this…

Ran into this guy on the bike path...

See this on the way home…

Who's in for next year??

Gloucester Grand Prix of Cyclocross - Day One!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 28 Sep 2013 18:03:00 +0000

This begins what's called Holy Week in New England Cyclocross. Two world cup-level courses. The first weekend in Gloucester, the second in Providence.

Gloucester always seems to be a rainy mudfest. Perfect fall weather all week made for a very dry and dusty course — I've actually never seen this course dry.

Here's the report.

At staging we played Brad groupies — Patrick, Billy, Freddy, Stan, Lewis, Jeff, me — all wanted to check out what the front row actually looks like.

They talk race stuff up there — not like the back of the pack. Back there we talk about how many doughnuts and beers we're looking forward to post race.

We fist-bumped Brad and headed to our rows. I started 54th in the grid, right across from Patrick. Note to self: race more, race faster, get a better starting spot (duh)!

From the gun I got on Patrick's wheel along with Billy and we picked a ton of people off. Despite 2 crashes by me in the first two laps, we'd moved up into the 30s.

On the 3rd lap, I felt great — Patrick must have too because we picked off even more guys and moved into the 20's. Things were looking great. I passed a bunch of guys on the hill up to the finish line on the way to the last lap. About a 1/4 of the lap in, Patrick slowed at the top of the stair run-up. This headed right into a 180 degree turn. I turned and said, "let's go buddy – get on!"

Turning back and talking -- not a good technique for a 180 degree turn.

I hit the inside wooden stake hard, and I did an endo. Managed to clip my knuckle on a nail and it bled like crazy. Brad had flatted, ran most of a lap and was chugging back through the entire field said, "Jon, you lost your watch" as he went by. I looked down — he was right. No watch on the wrist.

(Not so) luckily for me, Brad has an on-board camera that captured King Klutz in action:

Brad: "See that dark thing going past your front wheel? That's your watch :)"

What happens when you are a _____ :

So I did some quick ROI analysis – lose my backcountry watch or gun it for 30th place?

The watch won, so I went on a search in the dust. And amongst the riders flying by. It took a few minutes and I lost about 30 places. Found it got back on the bike and discovered I'd manage to lose the chain in the crash. Off the bike again, another 5-10 places.

Great — 3/4 of a lap to go and I'm now in the 70s. Went from being the windshield to the bug. Took off like a banchee / mad Irishman and clawed my way back up to 53rd.

Still fun.

Now headed to the watch repair man (and a bottle of Advil) ;).

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 09 Sep 2013 14:46:00 +0000

LOTOJA

[pronounced lo-tuh-jah]

= 206 miles from [Lo]gan, UT [to] [Ja]ckson Hole, WY

Start line - day before

Four years ago Andrew Tappe came home with a story of an epic ride from northern Utah to Jackson Hole. 206 miles with 10,000 feet of climbing – all in one day.

I love epic rides. I’m not really built for them, but love the challenge of getting pushed to my limits (and then pushing back).

Three years ago, I entered the lottery for a spot. No dice. Second try, still no entry. This year in March – payday!

Then I begged my family for a hall pass – they were totally supportive (thanks gang!) and this became my big goal for the season.

It turns out, Andrew is kind of a local star in town. We enter the local bike shop and first thing we hear is “hello Andrew.”

Sunrise Cyclery's #1 Customer

Epic rides tend to come along with epic experiences. This one starts with bizarre.

After doing this six times, Andrew’s got a well-tuned itinerary.

On Friday, the first stop is dinner at an Indian restaurant the night before. When he broke this to me, I sort of scratched my head – then decided to go with the flow.

That is until we pulled up to this (in a rural Utah town):

Yes, that is a gas station. Yes, it is also an Indian restaurant (??).

One side, fill ‘er up. The other side Vindaloo. My first thought was “he’s trying to kill me.”

Turns out this was the top-rated Indian restaurant in Utah. Hold your comments, the food was awesome.

Andrew’s friend Tai was our host for the weekend and his team were a bunch of really good guys:

(from left) Tai, Andrew, Dave, Bryan, Chad and Todd

Organizing support is just about as intricate as Leadville. Tai's wife Vickie, his daughter Laykan, and Andrew's son Christian weren't in for a good time, they were in for a long time. They supported us for 13 hours on the road, hopping from stop to stop.

Saturday meant up at 430a, breakfast, pack and get to the start. I was super-nervous about biking 206 miles. That’s 46 miles longer than I’ve ever gone on a bike. As a result, I couldn’t wait to get started and slept in until 315a (argh).

My start time was an hour ahead of the rest of the guys (rookie registration mistake=Rookie Mistake #1), so I had to quietly “tuck in” to their group (at risk of a DQ).

Here’s a quick run-down on the race:

· First 46 miles: Flat, windy and, as grandpa used to say, “smells like money to me” (lots of feedyards). We hammered (and tried not to breathe in the feedyard smells too deeply). We pull out of the first stop here and Andrew says, “Only a B2B to go!” Thanks.

· Next 64 miles: home of rookie mistake #2. Most cyclists see 10,000 feet of climbing and think, no big deal. If it’s spread out, it won’t hurt that much. At LOTOJA, it’s not spread out. How does 8,500 feet of climbing in 64 miles sound to you? That’s right it hurts. 3 big climbs (Strawberry, Geneva and Salt River). I had no idea how tough this this section was going to be. Trying to pace myself without knowing what was coming up was tricky. We climbed for 30 miles from the first rest stop to Strawberry. That went OK. Just took it a bit easy. The second I felt a bit more than the first. By the third climb, I was suffering like a dog. Here’s how fresh I was at the top of climb #3 (Andrew snuck up behind me to capture this inspiring moment):

"Dear God, please, let this be over."

Bonked. Tai’s friends Todd & Chad saved me here – “the big climbing is done. You’re gonna make it.” That was all I needed to hear. Short of a lung and leg transplant.

Luckily, a 10 mile downhill followed. I'm really good at not pedaling, so this was right up my power alley.

· Next 65 miles – Rolling flats. Thank God, or I wouldn’t have had a chance. We hammered. Actually, Bryan, Dave, Andrew and Chad hammered. I hung on and tried to find a happier place.

We made it to the Wyoming border in under 5 hours. Later, we met our support team for the first time at mile 125 – happy place found -- it’s amazing what a can of Coke can do to bring you back to a happy place. That and a ham sandwich.

· Next 31 miles – Turning into the Snake River Canyon is beautiful. It’s hard to describe the beauty – turquoise water of the Snake, gorgeous canyon, 2% climbing. Then, the skies went dark, the temps dropped 20 degrees and the rain started. Cold, hard. Soaked. We rode for about 20 minutes until this showed up for us at the last rest stop. End of the rainbow? (just over the porta-potties) Jackson! We were 20 miles out.

·
Thanks to Bryan and Dave, we hammered the last 20 miles, including the final climb to pull into Teton Village. Andrew led out, I followed and then Tai came around me to take the silver medal in our group.

All smiles to be done (we’re fried, really).

Tale of the tape:

206 miles

10,000 feet of climbing

19.1 mph avg. speed

15,000 calories

Thanks Vickie, Layken, Christian, Tai, Andrew, Bryan, Dave, Brian, Todd, Chad, Tanner and the rest of the Utah crew -- you guys were awesome.

See you next year (you've got to come do this race with us next year)!

2012 New England Regional Cyclocross Championships

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 16 Dec 2012 23:38:00 +0000

Josh, Stan and I headed out to Fitchburg to squeeze in the last race of the season — the New England Regional Championships. They combined the 35+ and 45+ fields, but told us the results would be separated. Now If I could just figure out who the old guys were that I needed to hunt down…

Josh lined up in the 2nd row, I lined up in the 5th row. Temps were in the mid 20s and the ground was hard, frost-covered and anything but smooth. Since this was the last race, I gassed it hard from the start and was psyched to find myself in the lead group.

I moved up from the 40s to 26th, then 20th, then was running 5th in the 45+ crowd. With 1.5 laps to go, I was finally having a great race and could almost envision standing on the podium in front of the massive crowd of at least 20 people there to spectate.

Then disaster struck. On the backside of the course, a stick got caught in my brakes and mangled the brake arm, twisting it right into my spokes. The rear wheel wouldn't budge and I couldn't free it.

My first thought was to DNF, but I was surrounded by high orange mesh ski fencing and couldn't get off the course if I wanted to, so I shouldered bike and started running. I ran a half lap to the pits (my back is now killing me). No neutral bikes were available (note to self, that second bike in the pits idea is a "really a necessity honey"). I got some help freeing my brake and zip tying it to the frame -- no rear brakes, but at least I can finish.

By now, most of the race had passed me by. Ticked, flew out of the pits in a rage and found out this anger motivation thing is actually a pretty powerful race tool. I managed to actually catch most of the guys who passed me and finished 12th in the 45+. Psyched — but, oh, what could have been…

Josh had a recovery Belgium Ale ready at the finish. Who knew that stuff was full of iron, manganese and protein? I had a second.

Josh finished 7th in the 35+ and when I left for a basketball tourney, Stan was running in the top 20 in the 55+. Highlight video here: https://vimeo.com/55715166

This was a great season. To the band of brothers that formed to practice cross and bring horrified looks to the faces of early morning dog walkers in Weston, Wellesley and Auburndale — I can't wait to do this again with you all next year.

Mt. Baldy!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 20:19:00 +0000

Mt. Baldy Road to the Ski Lifts!

I had an afternoon to sneak in a ride and Mt. Baldy is on my bucket list. This giant features in the Tour of California and ranks as the 4^th hardest climb in the western US.

As I stood on the edge of the Pomona campus gearing up, thoughts of “how hard can this be?” started to creep in. Starting in a manicured residential neighborhood, it’s hard to believe that a huge climb lies just up the road.

All the write-ups talk about how hard this climb is. Many compare it to Alpe d’Huez. First, a few stats (Alpe d’Huez in parens):

· Total Ride: 12.6 miles at 8.8% with 4,700 feet of elevation gain (ADH=8.2 miles, 3,500 feet of ascent)

· 2 separate 2 mile long sections at greater than 9% grade

· Multiple 15% ramps

· 8.1% average grade for the 7.2 mile long section above the tunnels

· 8.8% average grade for the final 4 miles above the village (almost 1900 feet in elevation gain)

· 9.2% average grade for the 2 mile Hogsback section (last tunnel to just before Mt. Baldy Village)

· 10.0% average grade for the 1.9 mile section from Icehouse Canyon through the switchbacks to Manker Flats (1000 feet in <2 miles="miles" o:p="o:p">

· 15% average grade for the final .5 mile section to the ski lifts (230 feet elevation gain)

Here's the summary with special thanks to the ToughAscent blog for pics and commentary.

I started the ride from the intersection of Mt. Baldy Rd and Mills Ave (the most common starting point). After turning onto Mt. Baldy Rd, the first part of the climb is easy as you pass through the last of Claremont’s residential neighborhoods:

Some of the peaks you see as you go up hit 10,000 feet in elevation. This section is 9% forever:

You soon hit the first of two tunnels. Getting through these without getting hit by a car is a trick. Goes from very bright to very dark. A few feet inside the tunnel a bike is invisible to cars:

And the second, shorter tunnel:

The 2 miles following the tunnels is brutal. Averaging 9.2%, these 2 grueling miles known as the Hogsback made me wish for more than the 25 cogs I have. The next 7.2 mile stretch from here to the ski lifts averages 8.1%. So, no relief for the next one hour plus. Knowing this DID NOT help the motivation.

Looking back down Hogsback from the top of this section:

The lead-in to the village of Mt. Baldy – when the grade eases to 7%, it almost feels flat here!

Buckhorn Lodge on the outskirts of the village – immediately the grade goes back to 9%-10% and the suffering begins in earnest again:

These last 4 miles to the ski lifts will give you almost 1900 feet in elevation gain – an average of 8.8%! 8.8% for 4 miles. Seriously. This is the part that really tests you. The fact that you have already climbed a few thousand feet and you are getting to elevations where there is less oxygen makes it all that much harder.

Still, 88 degrees up here in November beats the heck out of riding the flats back home in 40 degree weather.

This is where the real punishment starts. The next 1.9 miles average about 10.0% grade (ouch!). Yes, 1,000 feet in elevation gain in less than 2 miles. This is the crazy switchback section of the climb. There are 8 distinct, tight and steep switchbacks in this section. The corners are 18% grade!

One of those tight switchbacks:

One of the insane switchbacks:

At this point, I’m beginning to wonder what I was thinking in Pomona. This climb is WAY harder than Alpe d’Huez.

Looking down from the switchback:

A look down the valley:

OK, here’s where it gets to 15% sustained. At this point the choice is to either fall over (I’m going so slow) or do the “newspaper boy” and tack back and forth. This was the SLOWEST ½ mile I’ve ever done on two wheels. Brutal.

The last little bit of riding is through the multiple levels of parking for the ski area. This section climbs gently and gives you a last few dozen feet of gain to the chair lifts.

And, finally, the top of the climb – looking up the lift:

6500 feet in elevation!

After taking a rest at the top, with a very cold can of Coke, it was time to descend and the descent from the ski lifts to the village is pretty technical. The road surface is not great, the grade is very steep and the curves are tight. Sections of it are definitely fun, but speed builds extremely quickly and some of that speed had to be quickly scrubbed for the switchbacks. Rock debris from some of the crumbling hillsides kept things interesting.

Once you hit the village, the technical section of the descent is done and the rest of the ride is a blast – a very fast descent. Hogsback section that was such a pain to climb? Easy 40+ mph on the descent (with the possibility of hitting 50mph if you pedal). The curves are gentle too, allowing you to sweep through them at that same 40+ mph.

Glad I did this? Yes. Do it again? Yes. Glad it’s over? Yes. Double-Double with a Strawberry shake at In-N-Out? You better believe it!

Weston to Williamstown Epic

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 18 Jun 2012 02:39:00 +0000

It sounded good at the time. After 8 or 10 B2B's each June, we decided to mix it up this year and come up with a new epic.

How about a 160 mile ride from Weston to Williamstown, MA. 160 miles, 13,300 feet of climbing. It sounded good a month ago.

As the date drew close this week, I started to get nervous. Really nervous. What was I thinking? I've never ridden that many miles in a day. Much less with that much climbing. I started to wonder if I could even make it.

We met at 515a yesterday. Seven of us -- a mix of Posse, Macs and Brueggers riders -- Lebo, Mike Moran, Alan McEwen, Grahame Wells, Guiseppe and Eric Cohen. That's a strong group.

The Route - thanks to Bruce Cohen and Jeff Packman, we stitched together a route across the entire state, finishing with Mt. Greylock. Not a beast in itself, but one tough climb with 145 miles in your legs. What stands out in the profile is that 75% of the climbing comes in the last 60 miles:

OK, back to our story. We meet up at 515a.

Sun's up and Eric's circling...

All here -- where's Grahame??

There's no such thing as an epic without a Sprinter Van...

Then we hit the road and hammered, not stopping for the next 60 miles. Then we met Karen Wells (Grahame's wife), our awesome one-woman support for the day at 78 miles in lovely Belchertown, MA.

The next 40 miles were beautiful -- Bruce's portion of the route put us on beautiful roads through central Mass.

Lunch stop in Northampton at mile 95 was a longer break. Peace march. Farmers market. Great, funky town.

At this point, we'd climbed 5,500 feet and still averaged 19mph.

From here on out, it was climbing city. And it was 85 degrees. I started to cramp right on the first big climb out of Northampton (that first big bulge on the profile above). Guiseppe was awesome -- he dropped back and said, "hey, this is a social ride, not a race. I can't have you spend 60 miles by yourself!"

I haven't fought cramps off for that distance before, but between Guiseppe's encouragement, Lebo dropping back every once in awhile and fistfuls of endurolytes, I made it mostly with the group to Pittsfield and mile 135.

Karen followed us at this point to the base of Greylock 10 miles up the road. We filled our water bottles for the 8.5 mile trip up to the top.

A mile later at the visitor center, a Berkshire cycling club guy shouted, "you've got a big group. Where are you guys from?"

"Just outside of Boston, MA."

"So, where'd you park the car?"

"We didn't, we rode out here."

"You What!?!"

Greylock starts with 10-12% grades and it's a heartbreaker. At this point, I'm wondering if I'm getting to the top by sundown. It's slow going. And its Hot.

Thankfully, the climb mellows out and even has a few flats mixed in.

But, at 3 miles from the top, the switchbacks kick in. They kicked me, then Mike, then Eric. Everybody suffered up. But,

we made it.

Eric Cohen flys by the camera...

We were spent. Wiped. 153 miles and I was wondering if I had the gas to make it down (yes, down). Here, Guiseppe and Grahame collapse at the top.

The lantern rouge makes it up!

We flew down the hill to Williamstown and ate just about everything in site.

Final tally: 160 miles. 13,300 feet of climbing. 7,000 calories.

A B2B alternative is born?

NYC Gran Fondo

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 27 May 2012 15:02:00 +0000

We completely underestimated this event. At last year's Maratona Gran Fondo in the Dolomites, we came across a small booth in the expo area for the NYC Gran Fondo. Anxious for other english-speakers to talk to, we struck up a conversation and eventually signed up.

How hard could 110 miles in and around New York City be?

We were about to find out.

Fred started with the warnings a few weeks ago -- "Guys, have you noticed there's over 8,000 feet of climbing in this thing?"

"There's got to be some bad math in that profile - no way that's right," we said.

We said wrong. There was every bit of 8500 feet of climbing. In fact, over 9,000 feet and 122 miles when you add in the ride to and from the hotel.

And we forgot to check the calendar -- it's only May and we've only been on the bikes a little over a month.

Now with sandbags fully filled, I'll tell you we had a blast. We rode together the whole way. We somehow came up with 7 hours of banter to keep things interesting. It was a great 24 hours in New York.

Here's how it went down. First, to registration, then Tom Snow found Cannibal, a Belgium pub themed after Eddy Merckx. We imbibed one and I tripped across the Sean Kelly door (Irish winner of Paris Roubaix).

There's a group picture hiding out somewhere, but I couldn't find it. Fred made a great pick for a pasta feed, Coppola's on 29th. We combined efforts with the Needham/Wellesley guys: Tom Snow, Guiseppe, Thom Cranley, Chip and John. About 20,000 calories got consumed in an hour.

Up at 430a to get cracking towards the start. Trick was we're on the New Jersey side and we had to be on the lower deck of the GW at 615a or miss the start. None of us knew where we were going. It turned out to be a Rube Goldberg -- take this ramp to this path to GW upper deck, across to Harlem, down to 165th, back up to 176th...my head was exploding. Some great pics on the ride over though...

The Big Apple at Dawn:

Bill and Fred at the upper deck entrance:

Sun's coming up and Schlags is psyched:

Finally to the lower deck and heading to the starting grid -- we've got low numbers - yeah baby!

Jeff & Fred all smiles

Bill in amazement at Eric's ability to chat up any female rider within 25 yards

A Jersey barrier can make a pretty comfortable seat for 45 minutes...

5000 riders ready to start...

The first 10 miles we cranked in a Posse paceline (ah, the alliteration).

Unfortunately, those were the only flat 10 miles on the day. It started to become clear that the 8500 feet of climbing was going to come 85 feet at a time x 100 hills. At 14%. Climbs were punchy and given the testosterone, we weren't exactly easing our way up them. The profile showed the big climbs, but left all the smaller climbs to self-discovery ;)

The Posse lumbers up climb #37:

Most of the day, I tried to pin myself to Bill's wheel. Mostly to no avail as he can drop me like a bad habit on most climbs and descents. This one I miraculously (thanks to Eric's EPO) managed to stay with him. Thank God a photographer was there to catch the impossible:

Mile 50 brings Bear Mountain. About 4.5 miles at 7%. The warning sign appears innocently enough...

Then the real fun begins as it kicks up. There are five timed climbs with a new Pinnarello at stake for each age group champion. Its at this point that the men get separated from the boys and Mike and Bill blow us right off of their wheels as they bee-line it for the summit.

The top of Bear Mountain is a bit like a moonscape. Even though we've been slowed by a flat tire and a couple of stops, we're still there relatively early and run into the second biggest personality in elite amateur cycling (after Eric): Peter Loeb. Pete rode the Etape du Tour with us in France a few years back. Great guy. Huge personality. Bigger smile.

Pete warns us of what's to come: 5 killer hills, the last is the worst -- a 15%, 1.5 mile climb through a neighborhood that's off the set of the Sopranos. I've never seen so many concrete animal sculptures in one mile in my life. Oh yeah, the climb was a killer. We're now at mile 70 wondering how the heck we're going to finish this beast of a ride. There are dozens of hills still left on the profile.

Not happy...

Really not happy...

Finally to the top, Mikey and I hunt for prey on the descent...

Jeff was a diesel engine from here on. Mr. Steady -- driving us up the climbs and keeping the group together. The next 40 miles were a repeat of the outbound course, one more flat, longer grinding climbs, no more closed roads or police at intersections. It was like the organizer ran out of budget. Felt like we were now on a regular weekend ride dodging traffic and on our own as there were no more support stops either.

Finally onto the Hudson River bike path, then emerging onto the equivalent of Route 9 in Natick during the highest traffic hours of the weekend. It was dangerous and an ugly way to end what had been a great ride.

With two miles to go, I couldn't wait to get this thing over with, so found a second wind and pushed the pace up to 25 mph. Finally, the finish line appeared...

Fred and Billy come across the line...

Once we crossed the line, Jeff asked if we'd do that ride again. Here's how I'd rate the event:

Company: A+. Really great riding as a team together. These guys are a blast to be around.

Course: C-. It's an out and back training ride for New Yorkers. A little like Wachusett for us. The road quality though was horrendous. Makes our roads look brand new. 100s of really deep potholes. Two of them got us for flats. Had the ride ended 10 miles earlier, we'd have likely been back again next year. The last 10 miles ruined it for us. Too many near misses, a finishing straight with 180 degree turn onto gravel and then an ugly 7 miles uphill back to the hotel.

Event: B. Registration was great, expo great. Support on the ride, not so much. Only 6 buckets at each water stop led to lines 100s deep and long delays. Easy to fix, but a pain in the neck. The base of Bear Mountain has a water stop. However, descending riders coming down have to use the same stop, so riders going up and down; crossing the road to get to water, not a great combo. Dangerous. The organizers could just copy the Etape/Gran Fondos in Europe (50 yards of tables in a line, mega fluids and easy in and out). No support for last 30 miles and no police presence leave you largely on your own. No stores to self-support.

Definitely worth doing once, but already on the hunt for next year's big event. Posse+Guisseppe+Tom's group+ Italy??

Gressoney Day Four -- Heli to the Top of the World!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 20:21:00 +0000

Minimal words today, maximal images.

For a kid from farm country, I felt like the luckiest/most blessed guy alive yesterday.

As Jeff said, "off the hook!"

God makes great art. Check it out...

Heli to the Top of the World!

On my way home now. Awesome 4 days.

Gressoney Day Three -- the end of the rope!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 08:24:00 +0000

Many years ago, a mentor of mine told a story about 3 couples who'd gone sailing for a summer weekend.

The first couple rented a sail boat for the first time and spent the weekend on the docks and sailing the boat in the harbor. They had a great weekend sleeping on the boat, walking into town and taking in all of the experience of being on salt water. When they returned from the weekend, their friends asked how they'd spent the weekend. "We went sailing!" was their answer.

The second couple were more experienced and sailed their boat along the shore of Cape Cod, exploring some of the Cape's harbor towns. They too, had a great time. They stayed close to shore due to high winds and docked their boat on Sunday night with smiles on their faces. When they returned from the weekend, their friends asked how they'd spent the weekend. "We went sailing!" was their answer.

The third couple were experienced sailors. They revelled in the high winds and went straight out to the open ocean on Friday afternoon. Rails were in the water all weekend as the flew across waves. Challenges of tangled lines and torn sails slowed them down a bit, but they set a personal record sailing from Hyannis to Nantucket. When they returned from the weekend, their friends asked how they'd spent the weekend. "We went sailing!" was their answer.

All three couples had a great time -- all described it the same way. "We went sailing!"

In the same way there are a lot of ways to experience skiing -- on the green runs, on the groomers, bumps, out of bounds, etc.

Today, we went Skiing (with a capital S!).

The plan: be lowered by rope about 160 feet into a vertical couloir. Anchor skis into the snow, unclip the carabiner from the rope and ski an amazing 12K run into Alagna, another valley away.
Nigel is a very experienced guide and climber. His plan for the day stretched us -- at least Andy, Jeff and me (Erik has done this before).

Erik took this picture of us on the saddle looking in:

What follows next is a video of the day -- apologies in advance for the rope drop in -- you get a lot of carabiner. I was not paying attention to the camera. I was trying hard not to wet my pants!

https://vimeo.com/37720694

More tomorrow!

Gressoney Day Two - Colle Bettolina

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 16:35:00 +0000

We took a bit of a later start today in order to give the snow a chance to soften up. A blue bird day here -- not a cloud in the sky.

The day started with three lifts to get ourselves onto the other side of this valley and then skins on for a 1.5 hour climb. It's usually shorter, but today we had to put crampons on our bindings to help keep us out of trouble on the hard pack.

Climbing with crampons was slow going -- can't really glide the ski -- but boy was I glad to have them at a couple of exposed choke points on the route. It was nice having some extra insurance from sliding off of the mountain.

After an hour and a half we reached the top and Nigel ice axed out a platform for us to put our skis on (tough to do on a 45 degree pitch with very hard snow).

Eric took some great shots on the way down (can't wait to get Andy and Jeff's also):

Here's a very quick highlight video (internet speed is SLOW here, so keeping these short for now):

http://vimeo.com/37578733

More tomorrow!

Gressoney Ski Day One -- Slick!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 15:56:00 +0000

Breathtaking scenery, majestic mountains and WARM. After record snow in the early winter, we were psyched to make our way over here. New England isn't alone with the 2012 weird winter -- it stopped snowing here on February 2 and hasn't snowed since in nearly a month. The wind is blowing and if you're a skier you know no new snow+wind+warm+cold at night=boilerplate.

So, as grandpa used to say, "time to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear" (for you non-rednecks, that means we're trying to make the best of it).

Andy, Erik, Jeff and Jon

So what to do while we wait for the snow to soften? Cappuccino break, of course (or in Andy's case, Hot Cocoa / Chocolate Syrup).

Our guide Nigel is doing yoeman's work trying to find some good terrain.

Nigel's a Brit, spends time in Scotland and is apparently fond of Highland turf. He managed to find some Scottish Highland turf skiing for us on the way down (click below):

The remnants stayed on my skis for the rest of the day:

It really steps up tomorrow!

Italia - Day 1 -- all about the food...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 17:54:00 +0000

A backcountry ski trip has been on my leap list since reading about the Haute Route ten years ago. Several things finally made this possible this year:

1. AndyK is turning 50 and it's been on his bucket list
2. I have the most amazing wife in the world and she was completely behind this.
3. Lots of frequent flier miles needing to find a place to go to work
4. A connection with an old friend - John Hamlin -- who connected us with a guide and his favorite area in the Alps.

So, an ice ax, carabiners, harness, avalung, skins and a variety of other great gear got crammed into a bulging bag and we headed for Milan on Saturday.

I've got a tradition of sorts when landing in Europe -- have a strong espresso and a chocolate croissant, then stay up all day (US nighttime) in order to sleep hard the first night.

After a little over two hours of transfer, I made it to Gressoney, Italy. A very small mountain village, but one of the lifts serving the largest backcountry (off-piste) areas in Europe is right outside our door.

The bad news: 60 degrees at the base turned the snow to mush. When it freezes at night, it becomes rock hard again. The answer to such maladies is, of course, food once again. A wonderful Pizza / Bar is next door. So I settled in and waited for the guys.

Not a bad way to start the trip. A relaxed afternoon in the sun.

Follow that with a dinner spread that looks like this and I'm gonna need to burn some calories!

More tomorrow!

Canton Cup 2011!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 03:09:00 +0000

Karen, Jeff and AndrewT are seriously bitten by the ‘Cross bug and made their racing debuts this past weekend.

Canton is a wide open, non-technical course. Somehow it provided more crashing than Gloucester and Providence combined (the late October cocktail of snow & rain did the trick). Apparently the race organizer wanted to get out of the cold and beat the snow – announcing the races would be only 3 laps.

Karen was first off in the women’s race at 9a. Her throng of fans surrounded the start line and began to chant, “KP. KP. KP.” The whistle went off and she took off like a shot. She crashed, she smiled, she even responded to our heckling on the course. She finished strong, not last, not in the hospital. Check all three boxes.

Next up in the 150 man-strong Cat4 field were BBQ Billy Reiders, Freddy the Assasin Hoff, yours truly, Jeff the attack man Packman and Andrew all smiles Tappe.

We lined up by prior race points. I somehow ended up being called up a row behind Billy Reiders. Wait a minute...until this point, I had no idea that bribery had reached this level of the sport.

At the hole-shot, I moved up behind Billy. We flew through the fields towards the first barriers and just as the guy beside me was hopping off his bike, he swung his leg wide, fast and right into my, uh, well…a part not designed to stop a flying shoe.

I went over like a ton of bricks. Fought the urge to lose my breakfast and just stood in front of the barriers leaning against my bike while the race passed by. Nuts!

Sorry, couldn't resist the pun.

Back on the bike, Freddy hopped a log that I decided to run. Wham, now he was in front of me. I’d reached the painful point where the students were surpassing the teacher. This was no good. No good!

Billy dropped a chain, so I passed him. Now only Freddy left. Problem was, I typically wait until the 4^th lap to make a move and this was a 3 lap race. Not a lot of time. Double problem was every time I called to the engine room for more, Scotty was not answering the phone.

Now Billy passes me again and I’m chasing like crazy. Too crazy. Hit the first run up and miss the remount (queue replay of the barrier kick). Stan was belly laughing. I’m now firmly in the soprano section of the chorus.

Two turns later, I manage to crash in a corner. This is definitely not going well. 2 laps to go and I’m a mess. Finally catch Fred again and we trade places (was a blast Fred) and then Freddy goes flying off the course.

Meanwhile, Jeff and AndrewT are having the time of their lives in their first cross race. All five of us finished respectably. All of us with big grins. Bill, Fred and I within seconds of each other. Ryan Hoff did a great job in his junior race. Kudos to him – he’s racing the same times as the adults each weekend.

And so what began in April at Battenkill comes to an end – the 2011 season was amazing. 99% of the amazing part is driven by the great people I get to hang out with as part of this crew.

Now time for a break from the bike and time to start getting ready for the snow. Can’t wait to glide on the skis in a few weeks.

Providence Cyclocross 2011 - Ryan Hoff makes his debut!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 22:45:00 +0000

After watching his dad on last weekend's course in Gloucester, 13 year-old Ryan Hoff reportedly said to himself, "I'd better hop into this sport and restore the reputation of the Hoff family name!"

Young Ryan did just that -- he debuted in front of a capacity crowd in Providence on Saturday. Aboard his new Redline Conquest, he managed to work his way past several Cat3 women in the field that started 2 minutes before him!

The kid was flying so fast, photographers had to speed up their apertures just to catch him on camera. The kid ended up racing for close to 30 minutes -- a gut buster for anyone -- and took home 12th place!

What we like even better is that he listed his team as "Weston Posse." Awesome. The kid oozes coolness.

The warm-up event for Ryan's junior race was the old guys race. The sun was out, the course was fast and some turns were downright slippery as Crisco. This is one beautiful park and one awesome course:

Fred, Bill and I lined up mid- to back of the back and the gun went off for yet another uphill start (I much prefer the downhill starts!). But, in my 5th race, I'm beginning to catch on. Big ring this week, sprint hard for the hole shot. Boom, I found myself passing guys.

Until we hit the first turn -- then the attempts to pass got ugly. I got elbowed, both sides, at the same time!

Don't elbow an Irishman.

It ticks us off.

So, I returned the favor on the next turn and then gunned it (Irishman know how to deal and then run). Two turns later, an off-camber 90-degree turn on crisco-mud sent half the field cart-wheeling over the fence. Elbow guy #2 went flying off right in front of me. Sorry kid, cheaters proof.

Meanwhile, Bill and Fred were duking it out on the course. Bill always seems to be smiling for the photos. Oddly enough, he's fasting on race day (Yom Kippor) and still smiling (and racing fast). Apparently 'cross counts as atonement (Steve, can we get a ruling on that?).

I found myself in a group of five guys who were pushing hard to move up. We did the final lap and a half all together and as we were flying down the backside of the course, I planned a passing move with about a half-KM to go. Cut to the inside of the steep uphill turn, I thought. Coming into the corner, everything was going to plan.

Cut to the inside, come by four guys....BAM. Hit tree. Head on. Large Oak. It didn't move. I did. Ouch.

Hopped back on and could hear a guy closing on me while I tried to get a rhythm going again. Decided to sprint with him for the line and because I had very little gas left, could sense I was going to be on the downside of this transaction. Turned out he had even less. Finished this race 36 spots better than last week. Now just a few dozen more to go for the podium!

Here's a great video of the course Bill, Fred and I raced. Not my video (sorry for the confusion last week), but this will give you a great sense of how well Ryan did in his first race. Not an easy course!

Providence Cross 2011 Day 1 from Bob T. on Vimeo.

Next up: Canton. Join us!

Rain, Mud and Smiles -- Cyclocross is here!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 03:05:00 +0000

What if the Super Bowl were in town and you got to play a game in full pads a couple of hours before the real game started? Each fall, the world's best riders descend on a seaside park in Gloucester, Mass (yes, that one -- made famous in "The Perfect Storm"). They let us amateurs race the course a few hours before the pros. Add in some rain, mud and wind and you've got perfect conditions for cylocross. The Super Bowl field was ours for the morning. And it was a blast.

"What the heck is Cyclocross?", you ask. Think road bike, with almost mountain bike tires, a course 90% off-pavement (mostly grass), with obstacles you have to get off your bike and sprint through (while schlepping said bike). In this case, the course was old-school: 12 forced dismounts including a mud wall (see above) and the worlds longest stair case in a cross event.

The idea is that you're red-lining, bitter taste in the throat for the better part of an hour. The fifth time up that staircase and my head was spinning. Literally.

This was my first race last year and it hooked me. This year, I hood-winked Bill and Fred into buying 'cross bikes and trying this out.

My race went off at 8a, theirs at 9a. I made a rookie mistake at the start. Thought I was in the big ring. Wasn't. Gun goes off and I'm spinning like a blender while 50 guys pass me. Won't do that again.

This year's course was extra twisty. No real straightaways to pass guys.

Want a feel for it? Here's the video of my race:

Bill, passing guys like they're standing still:

Bill through the sand pit safely:

Bill up the barriers:

Fred flying up the mud wall:

Fred through the sand:

Fred, Bill and Fred's son Ryan at the finish (already talk of next week's race!):

Muddy:

Next week: Providence!!

GMSR Addendum - Mike Young the Story of the Day!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 18:37:00 +0000

Proof positive that early Alzheimer's is setting in. I accidentally left out the big story from the 2011 GMSR. Mike Young, the climbing phenom from Wellesley, signed up for the GMSR as his first race. Mike's built for that finish and he proved it. Although he scared the heck out of us while eating on the bike (hold 'yer line there newbie -- move to the outside to eat), inside, I knew he was going to crush his first race.

Mike made it over the first two climbs without breaking a sweat. As we hit the base of the climb, one of the last sentences I managed to utter while still with the lead group was, "Mikey, this climb has your name all over it."

Mikey punched it and stayed with the leaders for a lot longer than I did. Finishing 21st at 3:10 (three minutes faster than your's truly).

Congrats Mike -- heck of a first race!!

Irene's revenge - Green Mountain Stage Race 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 19:37:00 +0000

The 2011 edition of the Green Mountain Stage Race almost didn't happen. When you think of hurricane exposure, Vermont isn't exactly at the top of anyone's list. But, instead of nailing the coast hard, Irene saved her wrath for Vermont and upstate New York.

Torrential downpours led to rains rushing down mountain streams into valley rivers not prepared for 10" of rain in a matter of hours.

As we drove through the aftermath a week before the race, the damage was unimaginable. In Waterbury, the river jumped the banks, became a half-mile wide and destroyed everything inside 150 homes. People and their belongings were caked in river mud as they piled debris in their front yards.

To make matters worse, power lines were out and several valley towns were trapped due to roads and bridges completely washed away.

Against this backdrop, a bicycle race didn't seem plausible or appropriate and the race organizer Gary Kessler sent out an email to his 800 racers to say the race might not happen.

But, Gary's a Vermonter, in the coolest sense. Business owners in the Valley asked him to hold the race -- given the damage from the flood, they could ill afford the loss of income the racers bring to the Valley (around $1M over the weekend).

That meant Gary, Peter and their team had three days to find new courses for 2 of the 4 stages, get permits, permission from towns, state police, etc. Somehow, they managed to do it and on Thursday an email came, "Race On."

The Weston Posse guys rallied and Steve, Andy, Jeff, Thom, Mike and I made it to the start line. A local favorite route called 'Tour de Camels Hump' would serve as the new improvised route. 63 miles, 5000 feet of climbing with a mountain top finish on the 20%+ App Gap.

It was a hot and humid day. 11 miles into it we hit the first KOM (King of the Mountain) up the Duxbury Gap. I fought like a fat man needs to, to hang with the lead group. The pace picked up with 1K to go and half of the peloton went shooting out the back. I looked over my shoulder to see that I was the last man in line. Push hard or 50 miles in the wind alone. Luckily a little local knowledge helped -- there was a 4.5 mile descent following the climb, so lot's of time to recover. I turned myself inside out and stayed in the lead group.

Mike, Steve and Andy were there no problem and about half-way down the descent, I slipped to the front to get two minutes of time in first place. We hit the flat and the planets came back into alignment and the fast guys came to the front.

At 16 miles we hit a dirt section and all heck broke loose - guys were pushing the pace to fly over potholes. The end-cap of the dirt section was over a washed out road that was filled in with rocks. Guys were flatting left and right. Unfortunately, the Jeff Packman's tires were claimed and he slipped out of the chase group. Irene's revenge #1.

At mile 25, the road got really rough and Garmins were flying off of handle bars. Mike's was the first to go. He paused for 10 seconds -- you could see his mind spinning ("That's a $300 Garmin. I should go get it. If I go get it, I'm out of the race."). About the time he was turning back, a guy rode up and said, "Sorry pal, your Garmin was crunched immediately -- several of us rode right over the thing." Irene's revenge #2.

Meanwhile, Jeff had fixed his flat and was soloing back to the group. He hit this section and, you guessed it - Garmin went flying. He ending up chasing his into a field. Irene's revenge #3.

The headwind was strong and the lead group was now down from 85 to about 35. The message was clear -- if you attack us, we will let you dangle in the wind, let you fade

and then we will hunt you down and spit you out the back.

At 31 miles we had a 3-mile climb and a few more guys were dropped. The group was motoring. At 51 miles our average speed was 23.5mph and we'd covered two climbs. Steve went to the front to drive the pace. Mike, Andy and I happily let him. After awhile, I felt a little guilty about letting him do all the work, so went to the front and tried to play good domestique - "you need anything? bottles? food?"

Truth is, in about 5 miles we'd hit the base of a Cat1 climb and I was pretty sure that's the last I'd see of the business end of the race.

We hit the base of the App Gap -- a steep 4 mile section called the “Baby Gap” and the pace kicked up. I hung on for dear life for a few kilometers. At the back of the group, guys were throwing the anchor over and flying out the back. About half-way up, I became one of those guys and the green jersey holder and I agreed to form our own gruppetto (back of the bus).

The pros had started right behind us and I couldn't believe that we hadn't been caught by this point. He and I made a goal -- let's get to 3km from the top without getting passed by the big boys.

Up at the front, Steve and Mike were hanging tough. Jeff, Andy and Thom were chasing hard and I was in between in no man's land, trying to hold off the pros with my new best friend (the guy was pretty hilarious).

At 58 miles we hit the final 3 mile STEEP climb up App Gap. I had been out of fluids for a while and the heat was brutal. I pedaled but I'm pretty sure there are 80 year-olds moving faster behind walkers than I was moving.

At 3.5 km to go, the pro lead car came by. The race was on -- like idiots we pushed the pace trying to get that 3K to go sign before getting passed. About 100 yards short of it, Tom Zirbel came flying by, followed by Jamey Driscoll in hot pursuit. Yes, they were going at a very different speed.

The last 1km is brutal - averages 18%+. Finally over the line and finally the heat breaks into a cold rain. Timing was perfect.

The Weston/Wellesley Posse did great:

Steve Lebovitz - 5th at 3:00
Mike Moran - 13th at 3:05 -- looking for any old Garmins that might need a new home
Jon - 24th at 3:13
Andy Kessler - 26th at 3:15
Thom Cranley - 31st at 3:28
Jeff Packman - Hard Man award - - 40th at 3:44 -- awesome time considering flats, Garmin chasing and riding alone into a headwind for 30 miles.

The real winner was the Mad River Valley -- by the end of the weekend, about 80% of the roads were open, tourism was on the upswing and Gary and his team pulled off an amazing feat.

Next up - the Vermont 50!

Pan Mass Challenge 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 22:26:00 +0000

"You can do anything you set your mind to, man. So lose yourself."

- Eminem

The Pan Mass Challenge is all about beating cancer. The 4600 riders, 3000 volunteers, and countless survivors alongside the road come together to form an incredible community over two days.

Day One Highlights:

Team Hannah's Bandanas led by Jeff and Karen Packman (in honor of their daughter Hannah, a survivor) takes off like a fury out of the Wellesley start

High fives on "world famous Cherry Street" -- every house lined up alongside with road with kids' hands reaching out to riders while shouting "THANK YOU"

Survivors and families line nearly every block and intersection of the route.

Somewhere after mile 70, a sign caught my eye. A 2'x3'
picture of a young boy. As I got closer, it read "Ryan. Died at 9 years old. Thank you for riding." The sign was held by his mother. I had to go to the back of our paceline and cried for the next mile.

Lunch consensus: Karen Packman might be the toughest person we know. Climbs the Galibier in the snow a couple of weeks ago, rides 89 miles with a numb leg thanks to a nerve problem. There is no stopping her.

Tale of the Tape: 89 miles, 21 mph avg.

No sign of Lance (incredible to say this, but we were ahead of him the entire day! and he skipped the finishing village).

Day Two Highlights: 50 miles with Connor

"Work it, make it, do it, makes us

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger."

--Kanye West

Wake up to pouring rain

Proving his McNeill genetics, Connor says, "we're going."

Not a single mention of not doing it as the rain comes down in sheets on the drive to the start. "This is way easier than having cancer. We can do this for the next 3 hours."

Fred Hoff and his 12-year old son Ryan on the same program. At the start, rain gear on, ready to ride!

88-year-old guy at the start, in the rain, riding the whole course. Wow.

And like yesterday, we weren't alone. Our girls were there at the start, feed stops and finish. Survivors stood on corners and at the end of drive-ways in the pouring rain to say "Thank You."

Forecast said 1/4" of rain. Rained 3.5".

Connor made me really proud today. Amazing guy.

Support us here: http://www.pmc.org/profile/CM0246

Nantucket Surpise

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 12:56:00 +0000

I’m making up some family time lost last week in Italy and we snuck out to Nantucket for a long weekend. After a day in the sun, everyone was wiped out, and gave me a hall pass for a quick ride.

20-30mph winds made the ride tough.

Twelve miles into the ride, I round a corner and see a digital timeclock next to the road. The guys standing near it shout, “Hey, join our time trial!”

Hmm, that sounds kind of fun. Never done that before. Why not? I turned around.

Turns out that I’d found myself in the middle of the Nantucket Triathlon / Velo club’s weekly time trial. The group was really friendly and welcoming of a guy in Weston Posse kit on a cyclocross bike (maybe smelling fresh pack fodder). I hopped into line behind two guys on full time-trial rigs, aero helmets, Zipp disks – the works.

The really friendly organizer said, “don’t worry about keeping up with those guys. The first is my husband and he’s doing Ironman Lake Placid next weekend – he’s really fast -- and the second guy is a pro Ironman.”

Trying to build up the excuse bank, I mentioned for the 8^th or 9^th time that I’d never done this before and I was on a cyclocross bike (my max gearing on my cross bike is 46x11).

With that I got a quick course description, my 30 second warning to start and clipped in one leg. Before I knew it, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1..GO!!”

The first two minutes reminded me of the start of the Weston Sprints on skinny skis during the winter: heart rate goes from resting to max in about 15 seconds and throat burning starts immediately.

At that point, I started to realize that I didn’t know beans about how to do a time trial. I remembered hearing an interview after Lance lost a crucial time trial to Jan Ulrich in the TdF – “look, all I can do is peg my max heart rate and hold it. I can’t go any faster than that.”

So, I decided to do just that. Pegged my max heart rate (187) and decided to see how long I could take the hurt.

Believe me, it hurt. Badly.

I was pushing as hard as I could and was shockingly flying along at 23-25mph.

As I approached the turnaround I could see my 30 second man (pro) making the turn. To my shock, I wasn’t that far behind him.

Made the turn and kept pushing. Seemed forever until that digital clock showed up again for the finish.

Ready for a shock? I came in 3^rd of twelve – yes, a podium for the Posse!

2 minutes off of the pro and 1 minute off of the Ironman and averaged 23.1mph over a windy, slightly rolling course.

Very little climbing, just stubbornness to push at near barf stage for 20-30 mins. I might just have finally found something in cycling that I’m good at ? Now I’m thinking, “how do I pitch the need for a new time trial bike to Heidi? Just think of how fast I could go with a new $12,000 sled underneath me…”

Even better, earned an invite to their Saturday group ride. Can’t wait.

Am loving Fred’s island.

Last Italy Dispatch - 24 Hours in Venice

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 11:56:00 +0000

Flying out of Venice was a great way to cap off the Maratona trip. Sights and sounds from a 24-hour experience here: http://vimeo.com/26357988

Who's in for next year???

Maratona dles Dolomites - 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 19:51:00 +0000

The 25th Anniversary running of the Maratona Gran Fondo. Only 99 Americans of 9,000 at the start. 1%. Turned out to be just right.

The Maratona dles Dolomites caught my eye a few years ago when it made the “must ride” list in just about every cycling magazine. Then my friend Tom did it once, a second time and then a third; raving about how great the experience was. 86 miles and 14,000 feet of climbing sounded torcherous. At Leadville or at the Tour, the courses are 20-30 miles longer to accomplish that same amount of climbing.

Well, the Maratona measured up in every way. If majestic means to echo the majesty of the creator, then these mountains are just that. Beautiful beyond what our pictures have been able to show. The beauty was actually distracting from the racing – at times you’d look up and find yourself gazing at 50 different peaks on the horizon as you crested a climb. Amazing.

It measured up too in the Italian / German approach to racing. This region is reluctantly Italian. After World War I, the penalty to starting the whole mess for the Austrians was giving up the region. The people here have clung to their language and alpine culture. The order is German and Prussian. The joy of life, the cuisine and the laid-back vibe is all Italian.

As opposed to the Etape, where elbows are sharp in the starting grid and in the feed zones, there are smiles, laughter and boisterous conversation. Very skilled descenders. Not a wiff of sketchiness. The Etape features dozens of ambulances due to the severity of the crashes. Only a couple of ambulances were out on Sunday.

Being a 1% minority felt just right. Contento.

This race is about 95% German and Italians. They were amazed that we’d come from America to ride “their” race and were extremely welcoming. “You are from America? You come here to ride this race? You crazy?”

Somehow amongst the 9,000, AndrewT, Fred, BillR, Tai, Jack and I managed to ride almost the whole course together. We’d wait at the top of climbs for the group to reform and then again at the bottom of descents. Bill was the winner of the King of the Mountains --- climbing well all day and was the lead descender too, flying by when I tried to gun it on the descents.

I was afraid of the 7^th big climb (the Giau – 13-15% for the first 4KM, 8-10% for the next 6KM), so really took it easy. On the 8^th climb, I felt like I’d left too much in the tank, caught a second wind and cranked it up the climb. It felt great. The 8KM descent on next pavement through about 20 bermed “Tornades” (sharp turns) was even better.

Then a nightmare 5K to the finish. Uphill. Strong headwind. All alone (I was too fast to pull the 80-year old men and too slow to catch the 70-year old guys). Finally to the finishing straight and a 3-up sprint for 3,577^th place ;).

Brad Cobb and Kent managed to finish in the top 100. Steve felt great and took off on the first climb and finished in the top 10%. The rest of us finished in the top third. Pretty dang good for a 1% minority, huh?

The epic story of the day? – Eric. His crank arm decided to separate from his bike and dangle by a thread. That meant with every pedal stroke, he was not only moving the crank forward, but side to side. Somehow, he managed to climb the last two climbs and descend in that condition. He gets the Ironman award. Most of us, including me, would have packed it in.

What follows are pics and video from the course provided by the race – how’s this for organization? Sitting down to dinner, we get an email with our results, splits and 24 hours later, pictures. I wanna go back.

Here's the images that the race organization gave each of us on the day (sorry, I only got my pics, so way too many shots of the big boy): http://vimeo.com/26393462

And here's the video summary from the organizers:

Giro d'Italia -- Day 3!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 14:41:00 +0000

There's a big deal made by cyclists about resting before a big event. Stairs? No, take the elevator. Walk anywhere? No, take the car. Better yet, hire a driver. Walk to town? Wadya, nuts? No walking! Ride your bike? Just for a small spin.

All those rules were broken today. In addition, I have no explanation for the picture above.

Here's sights from today (click link): http://vimeo.com/26201268

For you iPhone, iPad users, download the Vimeo app from the app store to view this (or write Steve Jobs and ask him to end the craziness with Adobe).

Big, big day tomorrow. Will post again on Monday...

Our Giro d'Italia - Day Two

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 07:38:00 +0000

With the big ride behind us yesterday, we set out on a 3 hour, 5500' climbing day today. No more rain clouds, hello sunshine.

It's hard to describe how majestic the Dolomites are. After taking a picture, the first reaction is that the image doesn't do justice to what you're seeing live. This is the prettiest place I've been. The only thing missing is my family -- I miss you guys!!

I was pretty foggy when we left for the ride yesterday -- forgot a bunch of stuff including my camera. Yesterday was all I-phone still photos, today is all video.

Enjoy (especially the descents -- some close calls)!

For you iPhone, iPad users, download the Vimeo app from the app store to view this (or write Steve Jobs and ask him to end the craziness with Adobe).

Click here: http://vimeo.com/26198806

Italia - Day One -- BIG ride today

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 16:24:00 +0000

Alright --lot's of emails asking for daily updates. You asked for it, you got it.

We're over in Italy to test ourselves on Sunday in one of the top 50 rides in the world -- the Maratona d'les Dolomites. It's only 86 miles, but 14,000 feet of climbing -- it's going to be trouble -- here's the course profile. Nothing but up and down:

So today, we headed out to the the back 2/3's of the course (tomorrow we'll do the first third). When we first started coming over for these epic rides, we'd rest, ride just a little, eat just a little and save ourselves for the big event day. Basically, we lived like monks.

I'm psyched that we now decide to save a little less for race day and spend it riding a ton -- spending several days soaking in all that we can pack in before the race.

First off, the scenery in the Dolomites is literally breathtaking. Have you been to the Grand Tetons? Imagine Grand Tetons times 25 -- we're surrounded by peaks that are so majestic. Here's just the view from the hotel parking lot (hit play):

Today, we left that beautiful parking lot for a ~55 mile, 8,000 feet of climbing ride. Not the smartest thing to do three days before the race, but darn well worth it. We started on a 30 minute climb of the Passo Campoloungo. Freddy made it to the top and was smiling. I was re-tasting my breakfast:

Next up, 20 miles of riding over to the Passo Giau -- the big daddy, the highest point in this year's Giro and the queen climb of the queen stage 15. It's 9KM at 9.6%. What we didn't know: you climbed 5KM just to get to the base. Some breaks to take in the mountains along the way (Kent and Brad):

See those storm clouds in the distance? We decided to pay them no attention. More to come on that little decision later.

The Fun begins at the base of the Giau:

45 Mins later, we're still climbing. At one point, I'm going so slow that deer flies

just float next to me, taunting me before landing on my back (out of sight) and laying into flesh through clothing with a big chomp. Ouch!

Finally to the top and a procession of Posse riders:

Remember those storm clouds? Well they started rolling in and it got cold, dark,

windy and nasty with rain. What do you do while waiting out a storm in Italy? Spaghetti and Cappuccino anyone?? You can't have a bad meal here:

Next up? A unbelievably fun/technical/lot's of hairpins 10 mile descent. Then, you guessed it, climbing another pass. This time it's the Falzarego, 10KM at 6% (not bad):

Followed by the steep (11%) Valparolla. Military ruins up top:

We capped the day with another amazing descent down into Alta Badia. Wherein, Steve and I fell victim to a weakness we share: we cannot say no to Gelato.

More tomorrow. Arreviderci.