Riders Ready

Iceman Report coming soon. In the meantime...

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 09:19:24 PST

I'll get around to writing down my many observations about the monster mountain bike event called Iceman. I promise.
In the meantime, the delay can be blamed on Book #2.
I'll only say that writing Book #2 is totally different from writing Book #1.
Book #1 was written without ANY research, ANY notes, ANY outline, ANY planning, or ANY forethought. It was almost entirely off the top of my head. If you have dreams of writing a book, don't do it this way. It's not the most efficient way to go about it. (But since I wasn't worried about efficiency, it worked for Book #1.)
Book #2 is underway. Like Roadie, it's not directed at cyclists. You'll understand when you see it. I can't go into it.
For now, all you need to know is that I've spent the past few months laying all the groundwork so that no all I have to do is fill in the gaps with the story. I don't have a working title. I don't have a character's name. But all that can come later.

And that's why the Iceman report is late.

Lights

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 17:08:01 PST

I'm normally one who embraces change. But every now and then I'll see small things that have changed, and I'll turn into my "cranky old man" persona and rail against the change.
And let me preface this by telling you how SMALL these things are in the Big Picture.
1. Fig Newtons: they changed their packaging so that it's re-sealable. Why? They went 100 years (I round UP) with the same sleeves of cookies. Why the change now?
The new packaging is slicker. It holds in freshness. But it also makes it harder to get the cookie out. Crumbs everywhere.
And I suspect that there are fewer cookies in the new packaging. I didn't COUNT them, but something tells me that they did it to skimp a little. No problem. I expect that sort of stuff.
You know how the sleeve of cookies had them all in a row? Except for sometimes you'd get one cookie that somehow got turned 90 degrees in the sleeve so that it wasn't like the others? I loved it when that happened. It indicated that one cookie had personality. In a machine that produces consistent results, having one cookie act differently than the others indicates that it had the desire to be different. That's pretty cool. And on further review, frightening. I guess I don't really want my food to think.
Anyway, they changed the packaging.
2. Michigan State Police flashing lights. Forever, the MSP light was a single revolving light on top of the blue car. Today, that light is an LED beacon that flashes.
Small, I know. Big deal.
But there's something very Wal-Mart about it. Like it came from the Christmas display. Chintzy. Fake.
The old red light would shine out across the land and travel in a circle coming back to your eye at regular intervals. It was authoritative. It meant business. It was great when it was behind someone else, not you.
I'm sure we're just lucky to have one MSP car patrolling the roads of Michigan nowadays after all the budget cuts.
3. Televised football with a zillion graphics on the screen.
Do we need the yellow line to tell us approximately where the first down marker is? Really? I mean, it's not exact, so what's the point? I can add 10 to any other number in my head and get an approximation.
Is the score necessary if it hasn't changed in the past few minutes? (I know why they do this. It's so that the guy with the dish can surf across the channel and not invest 30 seconds in the game to find out the score.)
4. I can't think of anything else right now, but I'm sure there's more.
I'll get over it. Kvetching about the small stuff allows me to ignore the big stuff.
Have one of your own? Feel free to leave it in the comments box.

The Other Side

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:30:01 PDT

For the first time in more than 18 years, I've been.... um.... how do I say this?... It's um ... I suppose I should just come out with it... um... Geez, this is harder than I thought it would be... I've been... um... OK, here it goes.... in 3...2........1.... I've been riding around on a mountain bike.
And the gods haven't smiled. The chain broke twice in one week. The first time it broke, I was just a mile from Kinetic Systems Bike Shop where, if you ask real nicely, they offer roadside assistance - as long as it's within a mile of the store. I mean, let's be realistic.
The second time it broke, I was in the middle of Bald Mountain Rec which isn't the most difficult trail system in Michigan, but it's remote enough to require a good long walk to civilization.
Yesterday, after putzing around on dirt roads and rail trails AND after replacing the chain, I hit the single track again. It was... how do I put this....?
It was O.K.
I can totally see the allure. It's a rush. To quickly process the information of the trail as it comes flying at you is a trip. I can feel what it did to my body; I appreciate the workout. There's a challenge around every corner - especially if you don't know the trail as was my case. The turns were so tight I swear I saw my own rear end on several occasions.
But...
You knew I had a big but, right? Well here it is:
After riding frantically for 30 minutes, I had only covered a few hundred yards on the map and my top speed was 12mph.
The thing I like about road riding so much is the speed and the distance. I like having to unfold a map to show where I went. I love the speed.
I haven't caught "the bug" yet. It was a fun diversion. I'll incorporate the MTB into my winter workout. I may even ride it to work more often. (Seriously, this is my commute---->)

I'll hit more single track this fall and do my part to bridge the gap between Roadies and whatever they're called.
So to make a long story short, I've entered the realm of mountain biking. Let's hope this gives me something to talk about at Iceman next month.
And stay tuned. I found a good deal on Time Trial bikes.

TBR

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 09:34:34 PDT

In some sports, there is a phrase that covers a lot of unexplainable situations. For us, it's this one: "That's bike racing!"
We use it to reason away anything that we have no control over.
A crash happens right in front of you and ruins your chance of winning? That's bike racing!
You do the lion's share of the work in the breakaway only to get beat by a wheelsucker in the sprint? That's bike racing.
You get a flat tire at the point in your training ride where you were about to turn around and have a big tailwind home? That's bike racing. Technically, it's not, but it might as well be.
You finish one place out of the money? TBR.
You drive 6 hours to get to a race, spend $120 in food, gas, hotel, and you win $12 for 4th place? TBR.
Where am I going with this?
To the American League.
The day after the one-game-playoff game between the Twins and Tigers that went 12 innings, everyone in town (Detroit) was lamenting all the missed opportunities and the missed calls by the umpires. They were complaining about the Tigers' inability to get a runner home from 3rd base with one out. They were railing on the right fielder who muffed two plays.
Listening to the sports radio shows on my drive to and from work, I heard one complaint after another about all the that the Tigers did wrong. Each one was missing the point: it's a game. People are human. People act differently under pressure. Things happen.
They were completely missing the fact that it was an amazing game. This single game had every ounce of excitement that you could pack into the sport. Sure, things went wrong. People missed catches and failed to get hits at the right time.
But you never hear baseball fans say, "Well, that's baseball." It's not in their lexicon.
To them, it's always someone's fault. Trade them. Fire the manager. Put them on the bench. Do something to them for not winning.
If cycling has taught me anything, it's to understand that no matter how hard you work at something, you'll never fully control it. Find the beauty in what's happening around you because really, that might be all you get.

Rio vs. Chicago. Seriously?

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 16:23:03 PDT

It's been just 12 hours since the announcement that the 2016 Olympics are going to be held in South America, and I'm already sick of hearing all the political malarky about it.
And since this topic deals with politics, I will state up front that I consider myself a staunch Independent.
Yes, I believe that Obama should have flown on Air Force Freakin' One to Copenhagen to make a plea on behalf of Chicago. To not go when the other three leaders were going would have been a major snub that would have echoed for years. Had he been successful against the odds, we would have eaten like kings. The economic impact of a the Summer Games is incalculably worth it and efforts to attract it can't be phoned it. That's how the game is played. It's the cost of doing business.
I've heard people spouting crap about the economy being bad and that he wasted money that should have been spent on fixing health care. We're America. We can still afford to fly a plane to Denmark. Get over it. If you want him to fly commercial and sit in Coach, write your congressman.
And now critics are saying that he failed as a president because Chicago didn't get the bid. They don't understand how the Olympics work. Chicago never had a prayer. They were outgunned by Madrid and Tokyo who also didn't have a chance; the Olympics were loooong overdue a visit to South America.
The Games have been in North America, on the other hand, in every decade since 1960.
1960 - Squaw Valley
1968 - Mexico City
1976 - Montreal
1980 - Lake Placid
1984 - L.A.
1988 - Calgary
1996 - Atlanta
2002 - SLC.
And will be in Vancouver in 2010.
Chicago probably had a fabulous proposal. Chicago is a GREAT city. It would have been amazing to have them on the Great Lakes. But you had to know that the IOC was anxious to take their party to Brazil, and Brazil was ready. Heck, as soon as I heard that Rio was one of the finalists, I knew where it was going. It was obvious.
So let's stop blaming the Democrats or Republicans or whoever we can blame for all the mistakes that caused America to fail. And let's stop second-guessing the President's Euro-trip. Even though it was a foregone conclusion, he had to go.
Now, if you want to know how crazy I really am, hear this: Who do I believe needs to start bidding on the Olympic Games? Detroit. Laugh out loud. Go ahead. It sounds crazy if you place it in the context of Detroit 2009, but if you look 11 years into the future, you have to believe that this city will be in a better position. Face it, it can't possibly be any worse than Atlanta was when they were first awarded the bid for the '96 Games. Atlanta was a pit.
OK, maybe 2024.

Roadie out in front.

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 17:09:21 PDT

No, I didn't take this photo. I was never this close to the front of the peloton.
This was taken by one of the pro moto photo bikes in the caravan. They're a bunch of cool guys who have one of the funner jobs in the race. Jon Devich shoots for various publications and cyclingnews.com. (I don't think he's aware of how close we came to taking him out during Stage 6 when we crested a blind hill and found him and his driver stopped in the middle of the hill. The "photo bikes" will stop abruptly in the oddest places as they are dictated by the scenery. Other caravan vehicles must adjust their driving accordingly. We adjusted. Disaster averted.)
So a big thanks to them for capturing this prize for me.
Caption: Pro peloton tries to read over Jon's shoulder with little success.

El Diablo In Cornfield

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 07:08:01 PDT

This post requires some explanation:
We've found that there are different types of fans along the route of the Tour of Missouri. Generally, we can categorize them into two main groups: fanatics and casuals.
Fanatics know the sport inside and out. They will drive long distances (sometimes driving 'cross country and sleeping in their cars) to watch the race. We've seen them along the route all week. They're from all over. For example, the Irish couple from Vancouver who we met in California. Oran and Jo. They've come to Missouri to live the life of a true race fan. (we saw them at SIX different locations today!)
Casual fans are the ones who live locally. Usually they just step out of their house to see the commotion. They may have a peripheral knowledge of the sport from what they've seen in the media, or they may have only heard about this thing is going to pass by sometime today. They may know some of the names of the game, or they may not know much at all. They may have Norwegian flags; they may be taking a break from working the fields. Generally, they're just curious about this thing coming down their road.
The Casuals make up the largest percentage of the crowds. We've seen entire towns standing along their Main Street waiting to see the spectacle. It's a very cool thing. We enjoy teaching them about the sport and the event through our massive sound system on wheels .... presented by Michelob Ultra, in case you couldn't tell.
Often times, we'll see a mixture of both groups mingled together along a stretch of road. And usually, it's like this: the Fanatics are standing right next to the road dressed in something that says cycling on it, and the Casuals are sitting on lawn chairs back away from the road. Or maybe they're leaning against their cars.
So today, we happened upon a group of people out in the middle of nowhere on County Road Z. Far from anything, and waiting for the parade to pass by. Four guys wearing overalls sitting on those big giant hay bails (Casuals). A woman sitting in a lawn chair (Casual). And a delightful girl named Annie dressed up in this costume (Fanatic):

In an effort to unite the two groups - the obvious Fanatic dressed as El Diablo and the obvious Casuals dressed in overalls - I started to explain to the farmers the concept of El Diablo and where that comes from. In short...

I'm happy to report that I was mistaken. They all knew the story. They were ALL true cycling fans who had been to France and had seen the Tour and already knew the drill. They weren't Casuals. They were local Fanatics. Awesome! Here in the middle of America surrounded by corn fields and International Harvesters was a group of cycling fans who were tickled to have the biggest bike race come right down their road.
If you want to question cycling's popularity, look no further than Z Highway in Missouri.

A New Announcer

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 07:11:04 PDT

The Bike Race Announcer's Union allowed a non-Union announcer to take the stage at the Tour of Missouri yesterday. Here's how it sounded/looked:

I'd love to hear him provide the announcing for a criterium.

J.J. has a Big Day Day

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 17:59:55 PDT

I've been watching J.J. Haedo for a number of years and have been waiting for him to strike it big. Today was a big step forward.
The final 300 meters of the sprint into Jefferson City go up a nasty hill. This video doesn't really show the steepness of it.

If you pause the video when the leaders are right in front of the camera, you'll see J.J. in the dark green Edward Jones Sprint Leader's jersey going up the right side. Thor Hushovd is in the yellow Missouri Tourism Leader's Jersey nearer the camera. Thor's lead-out rider is dropping off the pace. The Liquigas rider is moving up, but it's J.J. at the line. Good for him!
Great finish.

Wanna Join The Crew?

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 07:18:31 PDT

Every day the Tour of Missouri rolls into a new town. And every day, we hear people ask us "How can I get on the crew?"
Well, for starters, it helps to be CUTE:

Missouri Mission

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 18:43:07 PDT

The mission of every other rider at this year's Tour of Missouri is to find a way to beat Mark Cavendish. Good freakin' luck. He's riding well, and he has brought the A-Team with him to Missouri.
I will do my best to tell other stories this week, but his is pretty reMARKable, so this one is about him.
Some observations:
- He's a nice guy. In the team hotel, he's approachable and chatty. Granted, we're seeing him in a somewhat protected environment in the Race HQ hotel in which every other person is on the race staff, but I've also seen him among the people, and he's just a normal guy.
I haven't made an attempt to chat with him yet; I will before the week is out. I've seen how he treats other staffers. He's a pro.
- While yous him crossing the line in celebration ... over and over again... I saw him 200m AFTER the finish line today. For just a few moments he looks like a race horse who knows he's the best. It's a very subtle look that I'll try to capture in the coming Stages (because I know I'll have plenty of chances). Anyone who has spent time around races horses will know the look. And it really only lasts for a few seconds. As quickly as it come, it goes. And he stops in his tracks and immediately turns around and seeks out his teammates.

- In the post race ceremonies, he is patient and accommodating. When asked about his chances of winning the overall title, he was taken aback for a brief second . I don't think the idea had ever crossed his mind. He quickly dismissed the notion by saying that he has teammates that are better suited for that.
- He was up on stage a lot today winning three of the five jerseys including that of the race leader.

So, he's a likable guy with great attitude and legs that can go real fast. This race will likely come down to Friday's time trial. In the meantime, enjoy the show.

What Have We Learned This Season?

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 20:24:30 PDT

Here's what I learned or reaffirmed this summer:
- $30 is the upper limit of what I'll pay for a 30-minute crit.
- I hate having to show my license to pick up my prize money. You know that already.
- I love watching kids learning to ride the Velodrome. (I just stopped by at the Rochester HIlls Velodrome to catch a glimpse of the future stars of track racing. It's a total kick in the head to watch kids grit their teeth and tackle the 44-degree banking. I hope they realize how lucky they are to have that toy in their town.)
- It's possible to bonk while riding a rented bike on Mackinac Island - the last place on Earth you'd expect to bonk.
- No matter how much I try, I can't get emotionally attached to my bicycle. It is, and always will be, just a piece of machinery that I use to go fast. I do, however, recognize that some guys get attached to their bikes on a much deeper level. I don't understand it, but I do my best to not say anything about it... or laugh outright.
- Rest is underrated. I think too many riders ride too much for the amount of racing they do.
- I really think that many riders would be completely happy with a regular Thursday night racing series and only an occasional big event on the weekend. I know a lot of wives who would go along with that. And if you think about it, doesn't that make a LOT more sense?
- I cannot make myself ride a Time Trial. Even if I promise myself a box of Dunkin Donuts when I get to the finish line, I'll quit before I reach the halfway point.
- Only two of my coworkers have read my book. And I'm not bothered by that.
- The sport of bike racing is alive and well.

What did YOU learn or reaffirm this summer?

I have found cycling heaven.

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 15:45:41 PDT

Look at the back of your left hand. That represents Michigan's Lower Peninsula.
Up near the tip of the pinky? That's heaven. It's where everything you've wanted in cycling comes together.
I'm spending the week in the town of Boyne City. I've lived in Michigan most of my life, and I've spent very little time in this region. I've been an idiot.
Let's run down the checklist:
Paved country roads.
No cars.
Long hills that grind your legs off for a mile or two at a time.
Small towns with general stores.
Lakes to ride around when you don't want the hills.
A complete absence of traffic lights.
If I'm not back by Sunday night, you can sell my stuff and give my house to charity.

What's Happened Here?

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 08:42:34 PDT

How mainstream do we want bike racing to become? Really.
If today's episode is any indication, I'll be fine with it remaining a niche sport.
Here's the deal: I registered for today's race without my license. They took my money without any issue. I didn't even KNOW the person handling registration. I just gave them my license number. A friend standing nearby said, "Yeah, that's him." Done.
That's how small and trusting this sport has always been. Nobody is trying to cheat the system. We're too small of a world to pull that crap.
I raced.
I took 10th, the last paying spot in my race. Here's where I got a glimpse of the future: When I tried to collect my huge pay-out, they wouldn't give it to me because I didn't have my license - even though the officials, timer, announcer, etc all knew me.
They said "it's the USAC rule".
If so, it's probably the least important rule in the book. And for years and years and years, our small little community has always made allowances for times like this. Riders who have forgotten their license? Happens all the time. ALL the time. I don't know how many riders I've vouched for in the past 25 years in my role as an announcer. Hundreds. "Yeah, that's him."
Incredibly, the woman passing out the prize money has known me for 20 years. And today she goes hard-line on this issue. Where did that come from? Who in this country is going to attend a bike race and impersonate the 10th place rider so as to make off with his prize money? Tell me. Who is going to go to that much trouble for .... are you ready for this... $10?
For some perspective, let me give you this: I guarded nuclear weapons during the Cold War and would let crews into the Restricted Area based solely on personal recognition. "Hey Bill! How's the wife and kids? Help yourself to the nukes!"
And today I have a 20-year acquaintance carding me for a $10 check?
They had no issue taking my money without showing the license, but it became a crime scene when I tried to collect my winnings without my license.
If we hit the bigtime someday and can no longer operate on personal recognition, I'll hate cycling.

The other whacky world of cycling.

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 04:09:01 PDT

Just so you know what Roadies can go through on a normal day of riding, here's how my 30th of July went:
Ready?
While driving back to the office during my lunch hour, I saw a girl on a bike get struck by a car at an intersection. It was a mild bump, and she wasn't hurt. The driver in a maroon car was looking left while making a right turn at a red light. He never looked to the right because, really, what in the world would anybody else be doing on his road? The girl wasn't wearing a helmet, but got away with it this time. She hopped up and continued on her way as if this sort of thing happens all the time. I didn't get involved as other passers-by beat me to the scene. It was over as quickly as it began.
But wow, what are the odds of actually seeing that take place?
After work, I jumped on the bike and started riding the 20 miles to Waterford for the Thursday Night World Championships (a race in which the only real prize is bragging rights and a sore back for the next week).
As I was riding on a quiet 5-lane highway (quiet because it's in an industrial area), a car passed me. The passenger had the window down and was flipping the bird in my direction. I thought nothing of it. In fact, I turned around to see if there was something more bird-worthy than me. But then the cyclist's dream came true: they got stuck at the red light and I rolled up next to them. Truly, this is what they never think of, and we always wish for. By this time, the window was rolled up. He gave a shit-eating grin (by the look of his teeth....) and waved a shit-eating wave. I just looked at him with no expression. The obvious cowardice of this is overwhelming. We get this a lot; motorists wrapped in tons of steel are William freakin' Wallace when they're moving. But face to face, they hide like kittens. Maybe my massive quads scared him. I'll go with that.
I smirked and decided to let them live another day.
Three miles later, I was pulling up to another traffic light. (riding in this area sucks.) I was passed by a motorist totally engrossed in typing a text message with both thumbs. He, like everyone else, thinks it's possible to see the road while looking at his lap. He, too, got caught at the light. I try like hell to bite my tongue in these situations, but because I hate the taste of blood, I rolled up along side of him and said, "C'mon, don't be doing that shit while you're driving."
Before he could respond... I'm not making this up... a squeal of brakes and a thud. ANOTHER cyclist has been hit by a car. I turned to see a 12-year-old boy and bike rolling in the street. Another maroon car.
Traffic stopped in all directions, so I rode right across the intersection to help out.
The driver was freaking out. The kid was up and pushing his bike to the curb in seconds. He was scraped up and his bike was bent, but he didn't want us to call for help. I was trying to explain to him the need to get a police report. He said he was fine and just wanted to go home. I was trying to explain how freaked out his parents were going to be. He said he was fine and insisted on going home.
Now, my first reaction when people opt out of a police interaction is that they may have outstanding warrants, but since this kid is 12, I'm dismissing that theory. If the driver tries to opt out, I'll put up a fight. And who knows? Maybe the kid had just shoplifted some Necco Wafers.
Another motorist did call the PoPo (police, for you older folks), but the kid was hightailing it home pushing his bent bike all the way. I knew I couldn't detain him against his will, but I did convince him to leave contact information. I'm no lawyer, but I would advise him to at least work this situation for a new bike in lieu of hospital costs. And I got the driver's info before I continued on my way. I later made an attempt to contact the kid's home, but to no avail.
I have to tell you that the next five miles of riding were the most paranoid miles I've ever ridden.
I made it to the race in time thankful to be bumping elbows with 100 other cyclists at 30mph which I feel is MUCH safer than riding on public roadways.

Mess Hall

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 19:17:11 PDT

Talking to the riders at the Amgen Tour of California in February, I discovered that they actually get sick of eating during a stage race. I'm reminded of this as I watch the Tour de France this month.
Remember that the pro riders are burning about 6000 purposeful calories per day. That means that they need to consume almost 8000 calories per day to keep the tanks full.
Think about that for a minute and how much food that amounts to. That's 4x the normal amount that we're supposed to be eating. And if you're in the Tour de France, you have to do it for 23 straight days (give or take a rest day). And it can't be garbage. You can't just stuff ourself with pizza and desserts aplenty. It has to be good stuff.
At the Amgen, the organizers have it dialed in pretty well. Usually the teams all stay at the same hotel. That hotel will set up a buffet in the banquet room large enough to service about 200 riders/mechanics/staff. And I'm sure there's a conversation that takes place somewhere along the line between the organizers and the hotel staff that goes something like this:
Hotel: How many guests will we be feeding?
Organizer: About 200
Hotel: Fine. No problem.
Organizer: But we'll need enough food for 1000 people.
H: Come again?
O: We'll need food for 1000.
H: One more time?
O: Lots of food.
H: What do you intend to do with the leftovers?
O: There won't be any.
H: I've been in this business a long time, sir, and I...
O: Trust me.
I've attended a few of these team dinners. They aren't anything like when your amateur team meets at TGIFriday's after a race. In that setting, it's a tribal storytelling session in which everyone re-hashes the race from a hundred different angles and you can't get a word in edgewise. At the pro dinner table, they don't say much. It's all business.
Meanwhile, the hotel staff looks on in wonder at the staggering amount of food that disappears in a two hour session.
So when you sit down to your 700-calorie dinner, just imagine what it's like to be hungry enough to eat a horse, and actually having to.

Missouri In Trouble.

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 19:14:20 PDT

This is a short comment about the state of the Tour of Missouri.
How bad at math do you have to be to miss this point?: The event costs the state's tourism budget $1.7M but brings in an estimated $60M in economic impact.
Now, I know that the Super Bowl inflates the hell out of their economic impact numbers. It's obvious.
But even if we cut the ToM numbers in half and say that it brought in $30M in tourism dollars, that's still more than $17 to every $1 the State spends.
Check my public education math skills for me. I think that's right.
Show me (to steal their state motto) another investment that can give a return of 17 to 1.
And if Sir Lance decides to race in Missouri this year, look OUT. Those numbers will spike much higher.
Unfortunately, he'll have to make that announcement in the net few days because it sounds like Governor Nixon is about to kill the Tour of Missouri after just two years on the map.
I missed the first Tour of Missouri for reasons I still can't remember. I worked at the 2008 event and found it to be a totally different feel than the Amgen Tour and the Tour de Georgia. This one was a great time with good crowds and great racing.
If I hear that St. Louis/Kansas City is bidding on the Super Bowl, I'm going to organize a march on Jeff City. Someone please tell them that cycling is the best bargain in sports.

What it was was softball.

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 06:58:46 PDT

I was in a nondescript chain restaurant (that's redundant, I know) a few nights ago when a group of grown men came in wearing matching pajamas. Seriously, I thought they were PJs. As it turns out, they were softball uniforms.
For all the grief that Roadies catch for wearing what we wear, and we DO catch hell, softball uniforms are 100% dork-o-matic. Some of these guys had on what appeared to be sliding pads in the knees and thighs.
Sliding pads? Really? Are you Ricky Freaking Henderson tearing into second base? How fast are you going? 8?
They had numbers on their jerseys. As if remembering all 10 of their names would be impossible. As if their legions of fans would only be able to identify them out on the field by the number on their back. Because certainly, the guy with the big gut and the cigarette in his mouth could be any number of players. But the #10 on his back clears that up for us. It's Dennis.
I also believe that we should test them for Performance Enhancing Drugs such as Motrin and Advil because I'll bet, if they're anything like their professional counterparts, that 90% of them are using.
They arrive at 7:3pm on Tuesday night and go through extensive preparation for their 8:00pm game. It consists of throwing the ball to another guy 10 or 12 times.
I'm sorry. Slo-pitch softball, as a game, is a great way to get out in the sunshine and have some fun. It's an easy game. There's nothing challenging about it. Even when the pitcher puts a diabolical spin on the ball when he pitches it underhand, it's still hit-able.\
I've played softball before, but I've never had trouble walking the next day.
The fact that grown ups still dress up and parade around in public in those ridiculous pajamas is the most astounding notion in sports, leisure, and recreation.
And I'm not so sure it fits in the sports category.

Middle of the Race

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 05:36:29 PDT

What does it mean when you're well into a race and you think you're farther into it than you actually are?
Let me explain.
Thursday's race was a timed event lasting two hours. There was no visible clock telling us the current run time, just a guy standing at the S/F periodically holding up a sheet of paper at ten minute intervals. If you happen to be paying attention to it, you'll be hip to the amount of time remaining. However, I noticed that the guy only holds up the placard while the front of the pack goes by. By the time the back of the pack was going past him, he was tucking it back into the notebook (as if the pack of riders only had eyes at the front like it were a living animal, or as if the riders would share the information amongst the group). Now I'll admit that there were times during this race that I would be sitting at the back of the pack trying desperately to recover. It's not against the law to sit at the back. Don't give me grief about punching tickets, tail-gunning, carrying the lantern rouge, or otherwise sitting in. I was racing. Some.
Well, after a good bit of racing, I expected the time placard to tell us that we had about 20 minutes left. I mean, the sun was going down, it was getting late, I was completely knackered. It had to be almost over, right? So I was surprised (not pleasantly) to come through the S/F area and notice the placard: 60 minutes left! Holy crap!
So does this mean that I'm out of shape and struggling? In over my head? Or does it mean that time is twisted and distorted in a race?
I really hope it's the latter.

A Race Story

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:50:48 PDT

A year ago, I was writing about the loss of a close friend, an insider, a real chew-the-fat kind of friend: my gall bladder. (You see, the gall bladder helps digest fat. Oh yeah, that's hilarious.)
This time around, I actually made it to the event and had a blast.
The Clarendon Cup on Saturday and the USAF Classic on Sunday.
Real quick story about the USAF event: you know when you see the Air Force jets do a fly-over precisely at the end of the National Anthem? How do they do that? Let me tell you. Once you know the time that the jet will hit "the mark", you back-time from there. Sound simple? Don't kid yourself.
Long story short, we nailed the fly-over. It was a beautiful thing. And the Air Force Memorial is worth visiting.
The OTHER event on the weekend was the Clarendon Cup in which the wildest story unfolded in the Pro race.
Chad Gerlach (whose story that you really need to hear) rolls off the front 6 laps into a 100 lap criterium. Nobody shows interest in chasing after him, so his lead grows quickly. Soon, he is closing in on the back of the pack, about to lap the field. If he makes contact with the field, he will most assuredly win the race.
The field reacts by turning up the speed. He starts losing his lead. He loses all but 10 seconds of his lead.
The field almost caught him. He relaxed but didn't quit. The field came close to catching him, and then they relaxed.
Gerlach stayed on it, and his lead grew again. Many laps later, he almost caught the field again - drawing to within EIGHT seconds of him. And once again, they accelerated away from him.
Once again, he was almost caught. Eventually 7 riders bridged across the gap to him. A few laps later, they looked like they were going to get caught.
They didn't get caught. They sprinted for the win. 36-year-old Gerlach (I hope you clicked on that link and watched his story), off the front of the bike race for 95 laps, sprinted for 6th place. It wasn't hard to find the "most aggressive rider" this day.
Lemond and Armstrong both had great comeback stories. But this one is pretty damn cool, too.

The Newest Flying Finn

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 23 May 2009 14:31:55 PDT

By now, you know I'm a homer for the Great Lake State. And I'm the Upper Peninsula's biggest fan.
So here's my latest Yooper discovery: a frame builder in Marquette of all places.
Matt "Palo" Palomaki studied Mechanical Eng. at
Michigan State working with MSU's Composite Research
Lab. He worked at the GM Tech Center in the exciting world of
Powertrain Design, Marketing and Calibration. After graduating 3rd in his class
he moved on to a cake job Nissan's Technical Center as a Powertrain Calibration
Engineer. And now he's building frames in the U.P. That's quite a jump.
I had some questions for him:

1. Did your family think you were nuts for leaving a job with Nissan to start a bike company?
Matt - Yes, everyone including me. My career at Nissan was moving along quite nicely. The company was great to work for and I really enjoyed my job. The pay was great and the job was very challenging. I even lived in Japan for 3 months (while I was engaged to Angela, now my wife) to be trained on emissions controls. Then about 2 months before my last day I received a promotion ahead of schedule. My last day at Nissan, I was shaking I had so much anxiety. I said to myself about a million times . . ."What the @#$% am I doing???"

2. What makes your bikes special aside from being born in the U.P.?
Matt - If you have been up to Marquette then you know there is something special about the area. When customers come up to take delivery of a bike we usually go out on the trails that I use to help design and test my frames. The south trails in Marquette are some of the best in the country. The biking guys up here that developed the trail system really deserve all the credit. I just feel fortunate to have such a great place to use for r&d. The other part of what goes into my bikes is SISU. This is a Finnish word that doesn't have an exact translation to English but can be summed up by combining English words such as determination, spirit, resolve, courage, persistence, guts, tenacity, mettle, stubbornness, steadfastness, and perseverance. Growing up, my best friend's grandmother referred to sisu as "more guts than brains" ....in a good way of course. At times having sisu in your blood can get you into trouble but when applying it to a positive outlet like framebuilding you can get some of the most beautiful bikes that are easy on the eyes. My whole life I have been applying the principles of sisu to different situations in my life. . .as a youngster I started racing BMX at age 10. I trained my but off . . . .I remember my parents driving me 30 minutes 5 times a week to train on the closest BMX track. The training/practice paid off and I became a state champ at age 12. Then in my junior year of high school I took X-country skiing more seriously and applied the principles of sisu to my training. It paid off as I skied to a MI High School State Championship. At Michigan State I studied my but off to graduate 3rd in my class. Which, I felt was a huge accomplishment due to the fact that 90% of my time and energy when into Formula SAE. My senior year at State our Formula Team finished 3rd at the World Championships and we won the Road and Track Competition. Then at Nissan I again used sisu as a model for my career. Now, I figure what better way to acknowledge my Finnish heritage than to place it on the downtube of every frame I make. Each and every frame that I craft has heart, sweat, blood (sometimes), tears (usually), and SISU ingrained into the cuts, bends, braze and welds . . .that is what makes my frames special.

3. What has been the single coolest moment/event/reaction since you've been making frames?
Matt - The moments that stand out in my mind are when I unwrap a prototype frame from the paint shop and complete the build. Hours, days, weeks and sometimes years go into developing new frames. Sometimes, an idea is spawned and I immediately bring it to production, but usually new ideas mean new designs, new tooling, test, design, test, design, test, etc. So, when I deliver the first new design to a customer and he or she sees it for the first time, their reaction is always burned into my memory. I love riding with customers when they are on the bike for the first time when they come to grips with the performance (which I pride myself on) of the bike. It is a true feeling of accomplishment....there is nothing like it.

4. Why name them after Marquette county roads?
Matt - The local roads in Marquette offer a lot to the bike culture here. You are either road biking on the roads or the trails are located off of some of the roads. It is a special feeling when you are rocking out a ride with a SISU 550 on the trails that the bike was named after. Recently I have expanded the names of my frames to include other landmarks near Marquette such as Hogsback, Huron, etc.

4a. When will the 553 be coming out? I used to live on that road.
You need to make a 'cross bike and name it "the Crossroads". (<--- yes, that's me telling the locals what to do. Nice. Anyway, the Crossroads is literally just an intersection that everybody knows.)
Matt - The 553 is in the works. Its a 26" MTB full suspension with Reynolds 953 Stainless tubing. Yes the "Xroads" is definitely in the running for a cross frame. I'm diligently working to release a few cross frames this summer before the season starts.

5. What's your top speed coming down the hill by Marquette Mountain? (a mile long descent that appears out of nowhere inspiring the remark "I didn't know Michigan had hills that big."
Matt - I don't descend very well on a road bike. Right now I am 145lbs ringing wet. Going up the hill is much more enjoyable for me; although, I wanted to test the torsional rigidity of 2010 FF1 (Flying Finn) carbon road frame and the Marquette Mountain hill is the best place to do it when there is a strong swirling wind. I think I hit around 50mph by sprinting all out off the top and then going into a tuck. Turns out the bike is crazy stiff . . . 30% stiffer torsionally than last years FF1 and 25% stiffer in the bottom bracket.

6. Is there a name for that hill? (I've always called is Marquette Mt. There used to be graffiti on a rock at the top that read "Are you saved?" warning all those who descend too fast, I guess.)
Matt - The ski hill. This is where I do most of my hill workouts. I either do repeats on the road or up the service road on my mountain bike. Either is pretty tough. . .I would say the road is tougher in the spring because you can't bike on the shoulder due to the sand. This year a some dude in a truck ran me off the road, into the sand and almost hit me. I learned something really quick. . . for some reason 23c tires don't track well through 3" deep sand.

7. Where can people find you?
Matt - http://www.sisucycles.com

8. Give me your best Pasty recipe. What's it got in it?
Matt - I'm not much of a cook. I have 2 favorite pasty places in town. Lawrys and Jean Kays. If your in Marquette and want a pasty go to one of these places. WARNING: Eat pasties after the race and not before.

So here's a guy who saw a different life. Grabbed it. Left the corporate world behind. Moved to the ocean shore (Lake Superior). Now he's setting his own hours and doing what he wants to do. And he's making cyclists happy.
That's pretty freakin' cool.

Tour de Libraries

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sun, 17 May 2009 06:54:34 PDT

Last weekend, the Michigan Notable Book program sent me to far off foreign lands to speak at libraries about Roadie - The Misunderstood yadee yada yada. As you can imagine, it's a bit of a dream assignment: stand in front of people and talk about bike racing.
The far off foreign lands weren't that foreign, to me anyway. Grayling, Escanaba, and Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. You'll have to look them up on Google maps. They aren't the most popular cities in America, but I'd rather live in any of them than, say, Atlanta, San Diego, Seattle, Austin, or any of the hot spots. Three well-kept secrets kept out of the public eye because they're too far north and too cold for most.
Grayling has quite an outdoor sports scene going on. The Soo is so cool that one country couldn't hold it; it covers both sides of the border (that's a hint to you as to where it is). Escanaba is the least popular cool town on Lake Michigan.
Each library in each town rolled out the red carpet with spreads of food, displays of cycling stuff, and attentive audiences who asked a million questions about this quirky sport of ours.
My observations:
- there are a lot more knowledgeable cycling fans out there than we know.
- cycling attracts many different types of people - gear heads, speed freaks, pain mongers, etc.
- the Soo has an enthusiastic little cycling scene that is all heart. On Saturday morning, they held a short 12.7mile time trial to match the prologue of the Giro d'Italia. Had I not bent my chainring the day before, I would have ridden it and gotten my but kicked.
- there are cyclists in Escanaba cut off from civilization who were starved for stories from the outside world.
- the U.P. would be a great place for a short stage race.
I was particularly pleased to hear one library volunteer along the way say that she came expecting the topic to be boring. She's seen a lot of lectures on a million topics, and she thought cycling would be dry and boring. It can be (if you talk about mountain biking), but this is road cycling. And it's anything but boring.
A mighty big thanks to the three libraries and communities for coming out to support the Michigan Notable Tour. I hope they enjoyed their events!
My next trip to the U.P. is for the Superior Bikefest in Marquette in late-June. If you're within a day's drive, get there.

Sault Ste Marie Tour Stop

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 09 May 2009 06:18:36 PDT

Just a quick shot or two of the marquee in downtown Sault Ste. Marie. I'm here as part of the Michigan Notable Book tour, and this is what greeted me as I rolled into a town that most people can't find on a map:

A sure sign that cycling has gone mainstream.
More stories to come of the entire Michigan Notable Book tour.
Right now, I'm off to explore the U.P.

Here's What We Did

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Sat, 02 May 2009 05:39:35 PDT

In an effort to help you sort through your identity crisis, I've teamed up with the folks in the marketing department at VeloPress to develop a personality test available on FaceBook.
Just click on the link at the end of this post.
This will solve a lot of mysteries that have no doubt swirled about your head for years. I'm just glad I could help you find out who you really are.
What you do with the information is, of course, up to you. I suggest you take the results to your nearest LBS (Local Bike Shop) and do what comes naturally: buy the corresponding bike.
I also suggest you share it with all of your non-cycling friends in order to help THEM get the answers they seek.
It's really easy to take the test - especially if you're already on FaceBook.
If you're NOT a member of the FaceBook world, how on Earth do you answer these compelling and insightful questions:
Which Designer Handbag are you?
Which Brady Bunch family member are you?
What are your top five favorite fast food restaurants?
Which molecule are you?
What five towns have you lived in?
See? Your life is in total disarray, and the road to clarity starts with finding out which cycling personality you are.
Now go! You have discoveries to make!
Click here!

100 Sundays

noreply@blogger.com (Jamie Smith) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 17:11:01 PDT

This is a story of commitment and dedication.
There always needs to be someone who gets the ball rolling. There always has to be that person who sticks with an idea and makes it happen. Hopefully you know who that person is where you live. Here in Michigan, that person is Paul Alman.
It was a simple idea in 1984: set up a criterium (Chapter 12 p. 143) course on four Sundays in April and let bike racers race. Let them get ready for the season. Use it to train young riders. No prize money, just a crack house for addicts like us.
It has become a springtime tradition. It's where riders and families re-connect after a winter in hibernation. It's where you test your fitness level against other racers. Sometimes you come to the Ann Arbor STS (spring training series) raging, and other times you come hoping to simply not get dropped. There are similar series elsewhere in the country, but this is not about the series but the person who has stood out there rain or snow or shine flipping the lap cards, ringing the bell, and orchestrating the whole thing. Yes, it takes a team, but there needs to be a leader.
25 years later, Paul is still the guy ringing the prime bell, counting the laps, handing out the primes, and deflecting the credit to everyone else.
There were some Sundays when Frankie Andreu would come home from the Spring Classics campaign fresh off a ride at Paris-Roubaix.
There were some Sundays when snow and cold chased the weak into the basement.
There were some Sundays that felt like the Tour de France.
And perhaps best of all there were a bunch of junior racers who were given the chance to try the racing world in a nurturing environment. Many of them are still in the sport today doing quite well.
All from a simple idea that someone continued to back up with action for 100 Sundays.
Well, he finally decided to pass the torch to someone else and go on to other pursuits. (His wife, Mary, will finally be able to do fun things on Sundays in April. And she'll get to take him along!) So we hung around after the race on Sunday, ate all of the Ann Arbor Velo Club's food, drank all of the Ann Arbor Velo Club's beverages, and saluted Paul. Here's a photo of him addressing and thanking the troops.

Paul, for those of you who are interested, is also the guy who gave me my first announcing job. Back in 1985, he let me set up a sound system and yammer for a couple of hours while the races were going on. The next year, he paid me $50 to do it.
And 17 years later, he was the first one to read my rough draft of Roadie (all 500 pages of it - really rough), and was the first to say it had potential. In fact, he might have been the only one to say that.
And he once gave me some of the best advice that I use to this day. "Never say no." When given a chance to do something, do it. That simple advice has lead to some great adventures, and has never landed me in jail.
So before he shuffles off to his other pursuits, I needed to thank him as publicly as this blog would allow.
As I said, hopefully you know who that person is where you live. Hopefully there's some of that in you.