Nature Valley

So here comes Nature Valley. This shall mark my fourth visit to the fair hamlets of Minneapolis and St. Paul to compete in this charming little doosie of a race. First, a little history:

2007: one of my first blog posts ever (post #4 to be precise) was about knocking over Ted King in one of the Nature Valley crits. I supposed you'd call that a "brush with fame," albeit a rather firm one; since then Ted has gotten remarkably fast, and now races grand tours for the Cervelo Test Team. If I remember correctly, I got dropped (and pulled) in the second criterium within the first twenty minutes.

2008: Crazy things happened at the '08 version of this race. First off, the opening stage was cancelled halfway through due to rain -- and it wasn't the rain so much as the crashes that convinced the officials to pull the plug. From there we all just kind of survived, plodding our way through the stages, making the time-cut, and ultimately finishing the stage race. However, in 2008 we weren't so much interested in racing the NVGP, as we were partying. And boy did we party at least better than we raced. Adrian doesn't spend nearly enough time in his underpants any more, does he?

2009: I hit last year's Nature Valley in good shape, and with high spirits. After a reasonable opening prologue, I ended up crashing hard, twice, on the first road stage. I survived the race, despite getting pulled from every single remaining stage, but my injuries damaged my psyche as much as my body. I completely lost me nerve, and spent nearly a month failing to finish a mass-start race. I'm excited to get back to Nature Valley and conquer some friggin' demons.

2010: While the script has yet to be written for this year's race, the preface is nearing completion. To begin with, there's a new course added to the race -- one that is supposedly more selective than in years past. Another change is that TT bikes and aerodynamic gear (TT helmets, disc wheels, etc.) are no longer allowed in the TT. I doubt this change will yield much difference in the results,  but who knows?! All I can say is thank goodness I have such an aero road frame. Thanks Blue!  Despite being sick this last week, I feel good. It's somewhat dorky, but Lang helped me program the NVGP prologue into the Computrainer, so yesterday I hammered out a few "prologue intervals" over at Cycle U. I'm convinced I can have a good ride on Wednesday morning.

Updates

Moped Update:
IT LIVES!!! So this moped I bought has ended up teaching me a great deal about how to fix a small gasoline engine. First I had to install new spark plugs. Then I had to remove, disassemble and then clean the carburetor. Finally I had to partially disassemble and clean the clutch. Fortunately for me, these all happen to be very simple components on this model of moped, so the operations were successful. My moped can now carry me along flat ground at nearly 25 miles per hour. It still can't go up hills much faster than 5 mph, and sometimes it dies and I have to push it, but what vast improvement! Prior to this, I had no real idea what a carburetor or a clutch did, nor how they worked, so regardless of how far this thing actually carries me (i.e. Aspen?), I feel like I'm getting my money's worth in engine lessons.

Road Rash Update:
Things are healing very well. So far no signs of infection. I've gone bandage free on my right side (except for my ankle) for nearly 24 hours. The more recent scrape on my left hip is down to a single large adhesive bandage, and no longer oozes onto my underwear (if that was too much information, you shouldn't be reading my blog).

Sickness Update:
Apparently my body was ready for some serious rest. Monday was excruciating. I haven't been so hammered physically since I was on the Magic School Bus, which is saying a lot. (For those who don't remember, I went cruising for a gastrointestinal bruising while in Mexcio. And sure enough, I found one.) Yesterday I still felt totally wiped out, but today I finally had some energy. I walked to breakfast, and ate like I was hungry. I still have awful symptoms (lots of hacking, plenty of snot, etc -- the only good side being the slightly deeper voice), but at least I feel good. Tomorrow? Better still I hope.

All Done

It's 4 pm on the Monday after the Mt Hood Cycling Classic. Thus far, I've spent my day sleeping, lying down, and ejecting large quantities of snot from my nostrils. If oozing from my road rash were a conscious activity, I'd add that to the list too. Aside from the headache, the sore throat, the half-dozen patches of road rash on both sides of my body, the rubbed-raw nose, the bruises, the stiff neck, the aching back, and the massive fatigue in my legs, I feel pretty good. Holy hell who am I kidding -- I feel like I've been run over by a train.

I woke up yesterday with a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a headache. That combined with the pouring rain made for a pretty grumpy morning. If there's one thing I hate about afternoon crits is that you've got all morning to sit around and stew, thinking about what you're about to do. It's hard to stay calm, especially when the weather is supposed to be nasty. I've done this criterium before, in the dry. It's not my favorite.

I convinced myself that this race wouldn't be sketchy. I walked around and watched the masters race. The corners seemed fine. This is fine. I'll be fine, I told myself. However, two laps into the race, I started to have my doubts. I simply couldn't take the corners fast! My front wheel was drifting twice per lap, and I was losing positions like crazy. I felt less like I was riding a bike, and more like I was riding a bull -- the damn thing kept moving underneath me! Finally I washed out my front, and went skidding across the pavement on my side, taking half a dozen poor souls with me. Fellas who crashed with me, what can I say? I'm sorry. I slid on my left side this time (the yin to my previous crash's yang). But -- and thankfully there's a but -- I got reinserted and held on (albeit barely) until the finish. I kept my 5th place in the GC, and my team hung onto our Team GC lead. See for yourself.

So that's it. Mt. Hood 2010 in the books. It was a good time, and we did well, but gosh was it a hard fought success. Here's a photo of me, at one of my lowest moments in the stage race. This is after the Mt. Tabor Crit (stage 1). Eager to light this race up (I started a time-bonus away from the yellow jersey after all), I took the hole shot into the first corner....and crashed. First guy into the first corner on the first lap, and I crashed. Then, less than four laps later, I crashed again, this time full speed at the bottom of a sweeping downhill turn. I couldn't believe it. I got reinserted a second time, and spent the whole remainder of the race scared out of my mind, fearing I would crash again. I felt like a horseman who just got bucked off his most reliable steed -- my trust in my tires, and in my bike was shattered. I got cleaned up, and patched up my cuts, and that's when Kennett snapped this photo: 

Not a happy camper. Then, less than 24 hours later, there I was, a much happier man. Stage races are strange, fickle creatures. One minute they're your best friend, the next they stab you in the back.

Now it's time to rest. Rest, and heal, and defeat this infernal cold. Nature Valley is coming right up.

How Does it Feel?

If you've ever wondered how it feels to finish one of these races, here's a photo from Pat over at Oregon Cycling Action. I'd say this pretty much sums it up:

B-E Aggressive

There is very little energy left for me this day.
Day 6 of stage race tomorrow.
Feels like it.

We all suffered today. Except perhaps Michael Creed.
My suffering on the slopes of that glacier-capped volcano was neither unusual, nor spectacular, nor extraordinary.
I suffered like a normal cyclist suffers on a long road stage with a hill-top finish. I did what I could, and got dropped, and barely cracked the top twenty on the stage.

But I hung on to fifth overall. By the skin of my teeth. Which is good for me -- I'll take fifth. If, and this is a big if, if I can keep it tomorrow in the crit. There are a dozen guys within striking distance of my spot. I aim to keep it that way.

But my team -- wow my team! Has anyone taken a peek at Team GC? If not, check this out:

Our sponsors, Hagens Berman LLP should be very pleased. Their ponies are winning.

Mt. Hood 1,2,3

Here are some poems about the first three stages of the Mt. Hood Cycling Classic. Well two poems actually, and a small word from Krogg. Enjoy.


Stage 1

Loops in the darkness
Around rain-covered racetrack
Four miles of fury

Treacherous corners

Await me undetected

Until it's too late

I lose all my nerve

And pull out of my turn

Grab fist-fulls of brake

Second lap faster
More importantly smoother
It's over so soon!

Results still unknown

As I drift off to dream land

Little did I know

Lang wakes before me

As consciousness dawns, "yo sam,

I think you got 8th"

Stage 2


Precious little squirrel. You probably didn't have a name -- and why would you, living your life among the trees of Mt. Tabor park? But I hope you won't mind if I give you one now, even after your life on this earth was shortened, indeed ended, brutally, last night. I think I shall name you Isabelle, little squirrel, after my first guinea pig. It's a nice name; I hope you like it. I have only used it once before, and I cared for my Isabelle deeply, so I hope you can see how much this name means to me.

Oh Isabelle, I saw you scamper 'cross our road. We were in the midst of a bike race, and safety, even that of innocent squirrels, wasn't our concern. I feared for you, Isabelle, as my mind triangulated your motion to ours. So when the rider in front of me failed to adjust his heading, and slayed you with his tire, his brutish, thirty-mile-per-hour bone crusher of a tire, I wasn't surprised. But oh how I was saddened. Murderer, I thought. This is your forrest, your park. Murderers, all of us! Your lifeless body was flung to the side of the road, the racer in front of me laughed, and I kept racing.


Stage 3

Krogg not quite know what happening. First things go good (Krogg get eighth) -- KROGG LOVE Mt. HOOD! Then things go bad (Krogg crash twice in crit) -- KROGG HATE Mt. HOOD! Then things go good again (Krogg win field sprint for second and move into 3rd in GC) -- KROGG LOVE Mt. HOOD AGAIN!!!

HERE PROOF:

(photo poached from cyclingnews via Oregon Cycling Action)

Tomorrow Krogg have time trial. Goes like this:

Start times:
11:07:00 Chris Baldwin
11:08:00 Sam Johnson
11:09:00 Paul Mach

Krogg have small message for time trialists who start near Krogg:

KROGG NOT INTIMIDATED IN THE LEAST BY THOUGHT OF CHASING DOWN MULTIPLE-TIME NATIONAL TT CHAMP, NOR IS KROGG INTIMIDATED BY DAUNTING TASK OF HOLDING OFF FORMER WINNER OF MT. HOOD CYCLING CLASSIC. NEVER-MIND SMALL DRIBBLE OF URINE ISSUING FROM KROGG'S BIB-SHORTS -- THAT MERELY SO KROGG IS LIGHTER ON CLIMBS. 

I Gotta Tell You About Philippe!

So I gotta tell you about Philippe! This guy totally blew my mind. He was a member of the BOSS masters team (athletes over the age of 40), and his team came in 3rd place overall. Those are some fast guys, I don't care how old they are!

Philippe Boccara is a six-time olympian kayaker. He competed for France, and later for the US in kayaking, starting in 1980, and going all the way until the year 2000. Yes you read that right: SIX-TIME OLYMPIAN!! Honestly, when I heard that, it didn't quite make sense; you might as well say he's from planet Krypton. However, when you lay eyes on Philippe, it all makes sense: he is approximately eight feet tall, and his shoulders are so wide, and his hands are so big, he doesn't even use a paddle -- he just windmill's his arms through the water at like 20 knots! I never saw Philippe without a giant smile on his face. Philippe strikes me as the kind of guy who could prove himself handy in a wide variety of situations. "Uh-oh I'm trapped under a boulder -- Philippe, could you move that for me?" or perhaps "Uh-oh, I'm in a bar-fight against six other guys -- quickly Philippe, make fists with your hands and spin 'round like a top. I shall duck!"

Here he is, smiling kayaker god that he is:

Note: the man Philippe is standing next to is not short. In fact he's above average height. 

While Philippe is obviously a kayaking wonder, he's also clearly a little spacey. First off there was a rumor swirling around Ski to Sea that Philippe once slept through one of his olympic events. This has yet to be confirmed, but if it did happen, I'm sure the French didn't mind too much: "ah c'est la vie Philippe -- I 'ope at least you 'ad a nice snooze!"

Second, according to numerous sources, Philippe was engaged in conversation when his team's mountain biker finished his leg. Someone came running down to alert him: "Philippe, it's time to paddle!" Off he went, kayak in hand. He still got his boat to the water in time, but barely. 

Third, Philipe nearly missed the final buoy. We were all sitting on the beach, waiting for him arrive. Instead of heading straight for the buoy some 300 meters off the shore, Philippe emerges following the coastline tightly. People yell and point, and eventually Philippe realizes his error. He has to double back, certainly costing him the "top gun" award for the fastest kayaker (he lost it by a mere 18 seconds -- the results are skewed). 

"PHILIPPE -- THE BUOY!!! THERE'S ANOTHER BUOY!!!!"

Lastly, after exiting his kayak, Philippe comes charging up the hill with his trademark grin: 

He flies through the finishing chute, awarding high-fives to spectators along the way, and runs straight past the bell. Once again, the crowd alerts Philippe to his error, and once again, Philippe has plenty of time to double back and ring the bell, thus officially stopping the clock for his team. 

"Philippe, you must ring the bell!"

Philippe Boccara is a man who will loom large in my memories from hence forth.  Thank you Philippe -- spacey or not, you are a god among men. Keep paddling!