Paperboy

Last Saturday I entered the Platte River Battle Royale Mountain bike race at Platte River State Park in Louisville, NE.

Still without a mountain bike, I rode it on my cyclocross bike. Most of the folks refrained from commenting about it, my cyclocross bike. But for those who did, it was mostly about how I was a nut-job for riding a paperboy bike at Platte. Paperboy and clunkers were the nicknames given to the bikes ridden during mountain bike's infancy in the late 1970s. Basically, those bikes were coaster brake beach cruisers that true nut-jobs bombed hiking trails on when they weren't delivering newspapers.

As for me on my cyclocross bike? Nah, it wasn't that bad. You be the judge, here's a picture of the paperboy and his bike now:

Whoops, sorry about that -- that's not me on my clunker. That's Gary Fisher, the creator of the mountain bike. I mean, if Gary Fisher rode a paperboy bike why couldn't I ride Gary Fisher's Cronus CX at Platte?

To be fair, not all were naysayers. For example, Troy Krause sidled up to offer his version of the BCM Pep Talk during warmup. Troy said that he had ridden a cross bike at Platte twice before. And in both attempts, he only went over the handlebars once each ride.

Not that bad, see?

As for my race, I managed to ride an entire lap without killing myself before pinch-flatting in the rocky creek gully. I tried to prevent pinch flatting from happening by installing a set of Bontrager LT3 700x38c tires before the race. Apparently that still wasn't enough. And although Shim had given me a tube and a can of air before the race, I decided to pull the plug and step off the course.

Riding a cyclocross bike on single track is a blast, but it's probably best done on training rides. You can't argue that drop bars, CX tires and no suspension doesn't have its moments out there.

Then again, I suppose that's the mountain biking experience regardless of the bike one rides.

In any case, I'm not done with the dirt.

Hulk Jr

On the way back from this past Sunday's group ride to Missouri Valley, the tempo picked up on Old Lincoln Highway. A pace line formed, two abreast, and long pulls ensued. Even with a tail wind, it wasn't a moderate effort. There was no soft pedaling up front for sure.

Inevitably on such rides, it's only a matter of time before someone announces to the group that they're going to go solo up the road and put in some "serious" effort.

Lucas was the first to do so. He told us of his intentions, and we let him go. Considering that we were going about 30 mph at the time, Lucas had to put down some serious wattage to get away from us. And once away, he had to sustain a strong effort from being swallowed back up by the group. We let him hang out there for about 15 minutes before reeling him back in.

Mod was the next to go up the road. But Mod's way of announcing his intention was unlike Lucas' way. Mod simply launched a silent attack off the front when nobody expected it. It's okay. World Champions are granted some leeway in this matter.

When Mod jumped, Lucas picked up the pace. I followed, along with Shim and Noah. We gave Mod a short leash of about 15 yards. At a small hill just south of Crescent, MOD got out of his saddle. Lucas remained seated. The gap between us began to increase. Shim came around me, I grabbed his wheel and Lucas took mine. By the time we crested the hill, the group was back together once more.

And just as the pace let up, I announced my intentions to solo up the road for a serious effort with my own silent counter-attack. It was clearly a breach of protocol among us non-world champion plebeians to act so rashly. Please forgive me.

My initial effort felt like five minutes, but it was probably closer to three before Lucas came around me. I rode his wheel for a few minutes before going up for another strenuous effort. A few minutes pass before, I hear another rider coming around me. This time, it's Shim, and he's riding with his inside shoe unclipped from its pedal as he attempted to pass. Jackass!

Shim's mockery flashed a memory in my mind of being harassed by my older brother Matt when I was a kid. Separated by a year and half, Matt and I competed in everything. Everything he did, I wanted to do better. Of course he was better, but it didn't prevent me from trying. He was also bigger in size. A lot bigger.

Competition led to friction and friction to fighting. When we'd fight, it was serious business. All-out fist fights were uncommon, but not unheard of. Usually, he'd allow me rope-a-dope him until I was thoroughly exhausted, and then he'd bull-rush me to the ground. Once on the ground, he'd sit on top of me and taunt me. Wet willies. Pick my nose, slap my face, thump my chest, etc. Ultimately, he'd get bored with all that and then go to the horrid goober dangling over my face. Lots of laughter on his part ensued during this whole ordeal.

This was all calculated on Matt's part. He was like an evil scientist conducting an experiment and I was his skinny lab rat. He'd pester me just to see how long it'd take before I cracked and unleashed a monster within. He'd call me the Hulk Jr when it happened.

When I blew up, I demonstrated unbelievable amounts of strength for a 60 pound kid. He probably weighed 120 lbs, but with proper motivation, I could go from being pinned on my back to standing up, all the while being bear-hugged by him.

I can still hearing him laughing hysterically during those moments.

Sometimes I'd show great restraint and withstand 20 or 30 minutes of this sadistic game. Other times, it only took him being a jackass for a few seconds before Hulk Jr broke loose.

So it was with Shim this past Sunday when he attempted to pass me while pedaling with one leg. Something inside of me snapped. Uncapped reserves of raw, possibly gamma radiation-induced, energy had been released into my bloodstream. My eyes dilated as my head turned away from that grinning fool. The road opened up before me, a straight run into Council Bluffs.

The monster within took over. It hunched over the yellow road bike's drops and began mashing mercilessly  on the pedals.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I heard my brother laugh. Or was that Shim's cackle?

V is not for Hoo-ha

The letter "V" isn't for hoo-ha. Fred Hinsley will tell you otherwise, but don't listen to him. Anyway, he's unable to comment on the matter any further due to pending litigation against the Green Street Velo Group's usage of his coined acronym "GSV". YPG, until that's resolved, mum's the word buddy.

So if V isn't for hoo-ha, then what is it for? Victory? Nah. How about vendetta?

Many months ago, Jordan Ross (Team Kaos) told Shim that the theme of the year was going to be "Operation Domination."

Shim cackled.

You see, Jordan made that statement shortly after completing a multi-month kitchen remod project. During that time, Jordan hadn't ridden a bike once. By the time he finished the kitchen project, he was soft. It wasn't that he was a tub of goo or anything, but he also wasn't in much of a position to be making such a brash statement.

Furthermore, this "Operation Domination" statement just didn't seem to fit Jordan's personality. Normally, he's more of humble and reserved kind of guy than to make such a claim. Heck, around these parts he's known more for shoveling his neighbor's driveways and sidewalks than one to claim dominance over the local road scene.

Jordan Ross shoveled everyone's driveways and sidewalks but Leah's

And to make it more preposterous, Jordan had just upgraded to cat 2 at the end of last season. Now when most folks upgrade, they take it in stride, suck wheels and settle for mid-to-bottom pack finishes for awhile before coming out and proclaiming they're going to dominate the scene. Apparently not Jordan; he was going to go after it right out of the gates.

Then came the new bike photos posted on Facebook...

... and all the accompanying harassment about the awesome platform pedals.

Somewhere around that point in time, Jordan went off the grid. Poof. He was gone. He had a mission to accomplish: average Joe nice guy with a score to settle. An operation of domination against all the nay-sayers. A vendetta.

Jordan disappeared and began racking up huge hours on the trainer in a dark, dank basement. He didn't take much time to enjoy his new kitchen with all that time on the trainer. And when it snowed, he didn't give a crap anymore about his neighbors' driveways nor their damn sidewalks. Meredith shoveled instead. Leah had to shovel either way.

Anyway, by the time road season was cranking up, the local cycling scene had mostly forgotten about operation domination.

The first stop of Operation Domination was the Tour de Husker, held on a cold, gloomy and windy day around Branched Oak reservoir. Team Kaos put the hurt on the small cat 1-2-3 field. Lee Bumgarner (Kaos) won, Lucas Marshall (MWCC) was second. But wait wait, what's this -- the former carpenter/snow shoveller Jordan Ross (Kaos) was a very close third.

Lucas Marshall (left), Jordan Ross (right). photo: Michael Dixon

Now some may have considered this result an early season fluke. But there he was, standing on the podium the very next day at Pioneer's Park, right behind Lee and Lucas again.

Then came the Twin Bing classic at Climbing Hill, IA. Again, another podium finish.

A couple weeks later, he traveled to Velotek GP and posted a top ten in a strong field.

And just the past weekend was the Chris Lillig Memorial Cup/Old Capitol Criterium in Iowa, the first stage of the Inaugural Flyover Series. This was a relatively large stage race that attracted the best riders of the region. While helping his teammate Bumgarner to overall victory, Jordan placed seventh in the Omnium results. That's impressive. But what I found even more interesting was his strong time trial finish.

Nice work there, kid. I don't recall TT being your strength in the past. Apparently, it has become one now.

Around here, Team Kaos has been destroying the competition this season. Bumgarner is almost untouchable. But they also have a lot of other weapons. Jordan is certainly one of them.

That settles it for me. The letter V is not for hoo-ha, it's for Vendetta.

Season of Schwinn

The unseasonably cold weather has finally broken. The warmer weather that typically accompanies this season is here. And by season, I don't mean Spring. Nope. It's Schwinn season.

The season of Schwinn can mean different things for  people. For some, it means longer daylight hours to ride. For others, it means pulling an oxidized Schwinn out of the car trunk trunk for a 3/4 mile spin from just outside the perimeter of city parking meters to the over-crowded bike racks at work.

Ah, the dynamics of the bike rack in the season of Schwinn. In the winter months, there's plenty of space for angry roadies and the die-hard commuters to peacefully coexist there. Come season of Schwinn?

Yeah, pretty good.

It's what happens over the lunch hour that really gets stuck in my craw. At lunch, the Schwinners jockey their their rusty heaps a few blocks up the city's sidewalks to chow down at the all-you-can-eat Bangkok Thai buffet. I've witnessed it. Have you seen people break into a sweat while gorging themselves on egg rolls? I have. It's gross.

Anyway, when done at the Thai trough, the Schwinners coast their bikes back to work. They arrive at the rack and discover that the end spots have been vacated by the roadies, who are getting a workout in over the lunch hour. You'd think the free parking and easy access to the buffet would be enough indulging. They have no mercy.

Nuh uh. From now on, I'm reserving my spot.

I'll let you know how this works out.

Why People Take BM on Bike Rides, part 2 of 2

Thursday's Taco Ride was not cancelled, for your information. Yes, there was snow in the forecast. But I didn't care. I even told Mother Nature so.

Snow shmo. Really, are we going to let Mother Nature bully us? Somebody's got to stand up to this nonsense.

Snow or not, Thursday's taco ride was happening. Besides, it was a standing tradition that we do this on Thursdays. Every Thursday. Surely my buddies would display the same moxie towards a little Spring snowfall. Right?

Yellowbike lonely at the rack today

Here's what the bike rack looked like at work yesterday. Surely, I missed the memo. But when I got to my desk, there was no email explaining a sudden root canal or appendectomy or other calamity.

"I didn't bring my bike," said Leah. "Is yours outside?"

Uh, yeah? It's Thursday, isn't it?

Wes wasn't at his desk. Neither was Brant.

Shim said, "It's in my car, where it will remain."

What?

Look people, we have a deal here. A standing order. Tacos are consumed at the end of Taco rides ON THURSDAYS. No, that doesn't mean going to Zumba class today for Tacos on Friday. That goes the same for Stretching and Core work. And don't even get me started about Jazzercise.

The ride still happened. Yes siree. Mother Nature threw all she could muster at me for late April. There was snow. It was wet. And winds were gusting over 30 mph. But so what? We've had it far worse. This was easy street.

I brought back a taco for each of my fair weather buddies. Just one taco each. One to whet their appetites as a reminder of what Thursdays are supposed to be about.

 

Then I went back to my desk to enjoy three of the most succulent tacos the world has ever known.

While scarfing down, Fred sent me an SMS message, to which I replied:

Fred fired back:

Thank you Fred. That does explain why all the people take BM on their rides.

I'm doing my best to keep it that way.

Sardine Hand Up

No thanks.

That was my initial reaction when Jay Chesterman (SC Velo) told me that the race promoter was offering a chance for cat 3 riders to jump in with the cat 1-2 at this year's Twin Bing Classic road race. No thanks, because I was hoping to win some upgrade points in the cat 3 race.

But I hemmed and hawed over it. I scanned the cat 3 field. It was big and I had no teammates in the race.

Then I looked at the 1-2 field and saw MWCC's Lucas Marshall, Mark Savery, Greg Shimonek and Paul Webb. All are more than capable riders. But they had their work cut out for them against the six team Kaos riders. Four against their six.

I fretted some more until my gaze was caught by Lee Bumgarner (Kaos). He was looking right at me, nodding his head while pointing at the cat 1-2 field. He was calling me out.

I couldn't ignore that invitation.

Were my chances good at a cat 1-2 podium? Unlikely. In my two prior attempts at Twin Bing, I blew up well before the finish line. Spectacularly, too. One of them I even finished DFL. Even if I joined in, our team was still out numbered. And there was 69 miles of hills and winds ahead. There was a small chance of success. What was I waiting for?

The whistle blew. I sat in for the first lap. Shim got into a break that rolled off the front with Chris Spence (Kaos), Clark Priebe (unattached) and Michael Sencenbaugh (unattached). I was happy for Shim. He had as good a chance as any in that group. I was also relieved because with the two strong teams represented in the break, it meant that it'd be relatively easy street for the peloton.

But in the second lap, with about 35 miles left in the race, a report came through the peloton that Shim had flatted. Not just once. Not even twice. But apparently three times, and he was left fending for himself in no man's land.

Savery quickly organized the team to bring the break back. In a short while, we picked up Shim, who got some rest before jumping in for a few rotations. We also got some contributions from Jerome Rewerts (Zealous) and Cody McCollough (SC Velo). But it's fair to say that the lion's share of the work was done by Savery, Webb and I.

By the time we got to Climbing Hill to start the third lap, my legs were wobbly. Going up the hill, we heard that Priebe had dropped out of the break. With only two guys a minute up the road, a wave of excitement surged through the peloton. The pack accelerated. Unfortunately, I didn't. My legs were toast and I got popped off the back. Now there's a familiar Twin Bing feeling.

The break was pulled back a short time later by those remaining in the hunt. Hysterics and unbelievable feats of strength ensued until finally, in the end, it was all over: Bumgarner (Kaos), Marshall (MWCC), Ross (Kaos). Kaos actually picked up five of the top ten spots; Shim (MWCC) was tenth.

Considering we were outnumbered to begin with, and then were dealt a bad hand with Shim's three flats, it was still a moral victory that we were able to pull back the break to give Lucas a viable podium chance. I'd like to think that Kaos would grant us this concession. I mean, they were able to sit in for an entire lap while we worked our asses off to bring back the break. I suppose in a sense, we contributed to their success.

Maybe that's how I ended up on their team's social media page:

What team am I riding for?  (photo: Michael Dixon)

At least they offered me a sardine hand up. True story.

John Rokke offering Brady Murphy the sardine hand up  (photo: Michael Dixon)

Could somebody please explain to me why there was a tin of sardines in John Rokke's hand?

Anyway, despite my not so stellar results -- unless you're a fan of the Lantern Rouge and sardine hand ups -- the Twin Bing Classic remains my favorite road race. Why? Because everything about it is difficult. It's hills are punishing and its winds are unforgiving. Its remote location isn't easy to get to, and its facilities -- an old public school building --  are spartan. Put it this way, the toilet stalls have no doors and the bathroom's only sink has no hot water. Judging by the rust, the hot water's knob was broken off many many years ago.

The race itself goes off without a hitch. Yes it's tough. But it's a good one. Thanks to SC Velo for putting on this classic each spring. Don't change a thing.

Who's taken BM on a Bike Ride? Part 1 of 2

There comes a time when one must ask, who's taken the BM on a bike ride? And not any short one. I'm talking a long one, out in the fresh air of the countryside. One that once you got going you sorta wish never ended.

Of course Shim has. Many times. He and I were just talking about it last week while riding through the Council Bluffs ball fields. Go ahead, ask him. He'll admit it's one of his favorite places to take a BM during a bike ride.

Others have too. Recently, the list includes Fred Hinsley, Wesley "Crusher" Johnson, and yes, even Leah Kleager has taken BM on a bike ride.

Shoot, last weekend lots of folks took BM in the woods during the Psycowpath race series.

There's nothing to be ashamed of here. Don't be bashful. Just admit it: it's nice to take BM on a bike ride.

Looky, here's BM in the woods right now.

Happy Friday Everyone.