Tuesday night report 6/29/10

Good news, a perfect night for riding and one of my favorite routes, out to Princeton, 62 to Hubbardston, 68 to Gardner and then 2A back to the streets of Fitchburg.
I don’t know why we’d ever want to avoid taking the ride through the city, the Spanish all love us, cheering us on as we make our way through the city, it’s like Lance, or Eddy or Miguel coming into Paris.
“Essay, Essay!!!!” which I think means Faster, Faster!!!!
Or something like that.

The numbers I have from last night’s ride are off from other rider’s numbers. But here’s what I had:
40 miles
1:53
21.2 average
I’ll try and map it on Garmin connect when I have time.

The ride cut through Leominster over to Pleasant St. As usual everyone began fanning out trying to find their spot for the climb up to Sholan Farms.
Some of our more experienced riders (Peter Cunningham and Charles Schnare and a couple others) were called out for double yellow violations which will now result with infractions being passed out at the end of each ride, the 3 riders with the most infractions at the end of the season will be responsible for buying the group a round of drinks at a tavern to be determined.
Everyone should be on notice that I’m going to start calling people out on these things.
Regrouped at the intersection of N. Row before continuing on to Princeton, a left and then a right onto Osgood, some climbing, but a lot of descending before eventually coming out to Rt 62.
Once we crossed over 140 and continued up 62 the grind up into Princeton began.
Brandt was motoring up the hills on the front. I was struggling to hold his wheel, eventually I called him off and moved to the front for my pull, flicked off and let Brandt lead, we switched off several times before I realized something. There were 2 wheel suckers right behind us. How long had they been sitting in?
Thomas Conner and the other guy I can’t remember – infractions for wheel sucking and not moving up to the front to help your teammates.
Eventually Thomas and the other guy took their turns and we rotated for a bit before Thomas went off the front and left us behind.
Fresh legs, new SL3, Reynolds Carbon wheels, no wonder he's able to make a move like that.
I can’t remember if it was four, or if a couple others joined us on the final climb into Princeton Center.
Waited at the intersection for the rest of the group.

Unbeknownst to those of us waiting, Kurt on the Time (on Time Kurt?) got clipped by a Volvo as he was climbing into Princeton – I don’t know all the details, but I heard the car caught him with it’s rearview mirror and then continued on without stopping. Fortunately Kurt was all right and was able to carry on. Anyone who has more details, please post them in the comments section.
On the regroup in Princeton we realized we were short a couple of riders, Amy on the red Giant and Chris from the shop. Not sure if there were others missing too.
Duncan being the good guy he is offered to ride back and try to find them and get them back to the shop.
The ride rolled on, after the climbing into Princeton, 62 towards Hubbardston is always a fun time.
Nice pace line going as we cruised down 62, pushing 25+ in some areas, it was a nice relief from the hills we’d done on the beginning of the ride. But near the end somewhere I was desperately trying to hold Sara without an h’s wheel, she was latched on to a wheel in front of her, however the rider in front of her was letting a gap open.
Infraction issued to the guy in front of Sara without an h for not holding that wheel.
Jumped and closed it.
Dave Lystila made a move which was quickly covered before we got to the intersection of 68.
With the group mostly intact we slowly rolled onto 68, a little slow at the beginning of 68 before the pace lifted, and then lifted considerably with the nice tail wind.
Someone on a blue bike decided to launch an attack on 68.
WtF?
Someone else went with him.
20 seconds later (maybe less) blue bike was back on the front, but slowed up.
Infraction for slowing and not moving to the left so the group could maintain pace.
Somewhere along 68 I heard the sound of something like a piece of metal flying into a guardrail, it actually sounded like a gun shot and we weren't even in Fitchburg yet. No idea what it was until someone was yelling flat.
Brandt hit some nasty road debris that ripped a hole in his new P3R.
Where’s Noah when you need a piece of plastic mylar? Thomas stepped in, sucked down a GU so Brandt could use the wrapper to fill the cut. Not pretty, but it severed the purpose.
Rolled out again, into Gardner, darkness was moving in, I figured riders wanted to get moving, tried picking up the pace, as we turned onto Union there were several other riders waiting – kept moving, looked back and no one was there.
I thought we needed to get back to Leominster before it got to dark?????
Daren knew there was no need to panic.
Once on 2A Jenn don’t call me Beth was again on the front doing a lot of the work, got the pace back up, just past Kaye’s there was another flat, this time it was Charlie’s turn.
Now it’s getting dark, but Daren’s still not panicked, he knows how the next 12 miles go.
Downhill and fast.
Once Charlie had his wheel back on things really picked up.
We were flying into Westminster Center, damn the cop at the intersection, he wasn’t going to slow us down. I held Daren’s wheel, he peeled off in time for me to lead out onto the downhill section of 2A, people telling me to hammer it.
No thanks, that road sucks, I'll play it safe by picking a good line between the white and double yellow.
So I pulled off and let the fast descenders have their fun all the way to the lights at 140.
The rest of the ride down 2A was just unbelievably fast, past the Old Mill, stay towards the middle because the side of that road is in rough shape, not to mention the seams that have opened up, just the right size to catch a low profile bike tire. Fast all the way past Monty Tech, into Fitchburg. Further down Rt. 12 Jenn don’t call me Beth who’d been pulling hard all night slowed enough to let a gap open in front of her.
Team leader Chet decided to send out the orders for the guy behind her to pick it up and close the gap. “You can't let a girl kick your ass - shame him into working to close it”, but he didn't.
Double infraction for not closing the gap, and not listening to your team leader.
Someone had to do it, pull out to the left and made the jump to close it, hit the rotary, no slowing for the car coming at us, drilled it down Rt. 12 adrenaline running high as the Spanish population began cheering us on like we were riding the tour – coming up to the intersection we had the green light.
And then we lost it.
And had to stop.
Someone said something to the effect "this is a B ride?"
Actually it's a B ride that rides like an A ride.
Once we got it rolling again, more cheering as we rode through the burg, down Rt. 12 and then over the 5th Street bridge, everything together as we turned onto Airport Rd.
All I could think about as we made the turn was please don’t let them set me up for failure.
I had a plan, it was a good plan.
It didn’t involve a serious effort.
Or pain.
It was to sit in and enjoy the last couple of miles.

Let me digress for a moment.
Growing up my parents tried to instill in me a sense of responsibility, to be my own person, not to let others talk me into doing things I didn't want to do, or that were bad for me.
But there were often lapses in judgment, young troublemakers talking me into stealing that package of baseball cards from the local general store, the young ruffians in the CYO marching band convincing me to smoke cigarettes when we were competing out of town, the hooligans in high school who talked me into smoking pot once or twice.
And last night I had another lapse in judgment and allowed it to happen again.
My plan began to unravel when Daren and several others talked me into doing something I didn’t want to do.
“Move up”, “go for it”, “you can do it, make your move”
WtF? I just wanted to sit in and try to stay near the front.
But the taunting continued, and I was still feeling the shame from several weeks back. The pressure was overwhelming to make a move and give it another go.
Except I couldn’t.
I was boxed in.
My set up man (Daren) didn’t follow through on his promise of blocking people out so I could make my move – he sucks as a set up man.
Thomas tried giving me room to move to the left, but too many other riders were moving up so going left wasn’t going to work.
So I was forced into plan B which meant making the move up on the inside, which I know pissed off more than a few riders.
But you know what? Tough cookies, all’s fair in love and bike racing and I had to do what needed to be done. Big deal, I rubbed elbows with a few riders who weren’t comfortable with that, but I had a clear line up the inside, all I needed to worry about was the sand patches, broken glass and bullet casings that littered the side of the road. I kept the bike upright and no one went down so y'all need to get over it.
No infractions for my move. In fact I get bonus points for such a bold move.
I still don’t know how, but the move worked, I managed to get free.
If I was smart I would’ve just held my position for another ½ mile.
I'm not smart.
No guts no glory.
Off the front.
Feeling strong.
For about 30 seconds.
And then I didn’t feel so good.
I felt miserable, I could only stare at the pavement below and try not to think about what was behind me.
Must – Keep – Turning – Pedals.
Don’t – Look – Back.
I have no idea how long I made it, maybe a minute, two tops before I heard the swarm of angry hornets.
Why were they making the move so soon?
You’re smarter than that Thomas Connor and whoever was with you.
You don’t jump to cover a move like mine.
Sit back and let the others take the bait before making your move.
Oh well, you moved too soon and lost out on the Tuesday night glory.
Kudos to the person who I don’t know who won the sprint.

Almost forgot, I need to call Chet out for coming in behind a girl, Jenn don’t call me Beth, who clearly took him at the line. You’re a disgrace to your gender.
I’m telling you it’s that big honking mirror of your’s! I’ve seen smaller mirrors on the side of a school bus. I know it’s great for a quick shave, or styling your hair in the middle of a ride, but it’s screwing up the aerodynamics of your high end Italian bike.
Please tell me it’s at least a Campagnolo mirror.

I’ve decided the rider of the night award goes to Charlie for coming back to the Tuesday night ride a month ahead of schedule.
What do doctors and wives know anyway?
Your double yellow infraction has been rescinded.

In the parking lot someone wanted to know how everyone seems to know how to work so well together and ride so fast on a B ride.
Once you get yelled at enough you figure things out real quick.

Tuesday night report 6/23/10

The last thing I remember was pulling up to the light ¼ mile from the shop and taking a GU, Daren laughing at me letting me know I wasn’t going to need a GU for the ride, we were only going to do the Reservoir route, nice and easy.
He was right about one thing, I wasn’t going to need a GU. I was going to need a six pack of them.
The part about it being an easy ride was another lie of his.

The ride:
Distance: 38 miles
Time 1:50
Average: 21.6mph

There were many regulars missing from last night’s ride, I hope it wasn’t because of the threat of rain. I counted 6 rain drops the entire ride. Maybe a few more, but not much.
It took a lot of coaxing to get the ride leader out of the shop, and into his kit (a nice new shiny Optimum Performance kit with brand new matching shoes – spend it while you can Daren, kids aren’t cheap).
And even more work to get him on his bike and get the ride going.
“We’re going to get soaked” he kept telling everyone.
I wonder if Eddy Mercyx or Fausto Coppi ever decided to sit out a race because of rain.
Or what about Andy Hampsten’s ride up the Gavia in a blinding snowstorm in the 1988 Giro.
Suck it up, let’s get the ride going.
We finally shamed him into it.
The original plan was to ride out to Princeton, down 62 to Hubbardston to 68 and then 2A through Westminster, Fitchburg, and finish with the Airport Rd. sprint.
But the threat of rain changed the route to around the Reservoir backwards, Lancaster, Clinton, Boylston and that route. To me that’s not backwards, it clockwise and therefore forward.

In theory this week’s ride was going to be easier than all the hills we did last week, but it was anything but easy.
We got to the lights at 13, I sucked down my GU.
I love GU, I’ve replaced most of my meals with GU. I eat GU all day long, I like the Blackberry in my morning coffee, Triple Berry for my mid morning snack. Peanut butter and GU sandwich for lunch, more GU to avoid the 2:00 crash from all the GU’s I had earlier in the day. Before the ride, during the ride, after the ride. GU has made me the most productive worker in my organization, possibly even the corporation I work for. It’s GUUUUD stuff.
It also makes it difficult getting to sleep after the Tuesday night ride.
This week we got in a little bit more of a warm up which lasted about ½ way up Prospect St before the pace began picking up. Fast as usual down the road that leads us past the shopping plaza to Mechanic St.
Mechanic St. wasn’t too bad before we took the turn onto 70 and then as expected things opened up.
Several riders on the front set a fast pace. A new guy up front was drilling it, Dr. Robert Trent Jones (when he isn’t designing golf courses he’s doing the Tuesday night ride, who knew?) Nice pull to set the pace.
I sat in about 4th wheel, I couldn’t see who was 2nd and 3rd because I had Chris from the shop in front of me, this was intentional because my legs weren’t feeling well and Chris is fast and a good person to hide behind.
As we rode I kept waiting for my legs to wake up, and it wasn’t happening.
At least we were doing the easy route.
One, two, three riders peeled off until Chris was on the front, Chris took a nice long pull before I found myself on the front, tried to keep the pace fast, by this point my legs are usually good, but last night they still felt like rubber. I knew this wasn’t good.
Took the pull as far as I could before bailing and falling back.
Whoever took over from there slowed things down just a little, it was still fast but it allowed us to keep the ride together and close up some of the gaps that had opened up.
We pretty much held a single line all the way to 117, headed right to Langden, no close calls this week, once on Landgen the pace kind of picked up again.
Passed the A ride on the side of the road helping someone who flatted.
Came close to making another dumbass move again this week when 2 other A riders were a little ways up on the side of the road, I didn’t see them until I was on top of them giving me no time to warn the riders behind me.
Fortunately the group made it around them without taking any other riders out in the process.
The pace remained sane as we made our way to the 6 corners in Lancaster.
Took the right leading us towards Clinton through downtown, hit the downhill hard, everyone trying to get their momentum to carry them up the other side of the hill to the dam.
Last night, with my rubber legs I was second guessing my decision to jump and get myself near the front for the long painful 5 or so miles to 140.
Coming up the hill it was Dr. Robert Trent Jones taking the KOM points by being the first to the damn dam.
The next 6 miles of Rt. 70 through Boylston always suck when you’re in the lead group. The pressure to hold the wheel in front of you is overwhelming, you don’t want to leave a gap for the person behind you to have to fill, yet you don’t want to throw up all over your bike either.
Andrew led things off by taking an epic pull for almost a mile, fueled I’m sure by the Eggplant Parm he had for lunch. Being on his wheel was tough, not so much trying to hold on, but more so by the smell of garlic sweating out of his jersey made me feeling like throwing up just a little more than I had already felt like throwing up from climbing to the dam, then trying to hold a wheel while trying to get into a recovery zone all at the same time.
He peeled off and I did what I could to put an effort in, but it was weak at best.
Several other riders came up inside me, I managed to grab the last wheel, a chance to recover a bit, but the pace just kept getting faster and faster, all those little hills along 70 were killing me, legs, lungs, heart all hurt like hell.
By the time we passed my old high school I wanted to sit up and wait for the cavalry to come up from behind, but someone in our group told me to suck it up and finish the GD stretch of road we were on.
Thanks whoever that was…..
The last little climb leading up to and beyond the center of town seemed like it would never end.
But once over the top we had a chance to recover on the downhill.
And more time to recover waiting for the regroup.
Which is where trouble began.
It was all innocent when I asked John on the Red Tarmac about his power meter, and if he could send me the profile from the night’s ride, and then he tried explaining that his power would be a lot lower than say (insert person’s name here) because of their size difference.
(insert person’s name here) asked if he was calling him fat, and John told him “if the shoe fits”, and then (insert person’s name here) called John a wuss for not being able to maintain 700 watts for more than a minute, John called (insert person's name here) a lard ass and that's when punches were thrown.
Everyone will be glad to know it all ended with a handshake and a promise to discuss over a couple of beers.
After all that Natalie joined in (the discussion, not the fisticuffs) as did a couple others, and then the discussion went from power to watts per kilogram as the best way to measure these things, and I quickly got lost in the discussion, all I know is there was less debate over Obama’s health care plan than there was over watts per kilogram.
I thought my head was going to explode listening to them discuss all this power stuff.
Save it for the classroom, here’s a chart to study for next week’s ride:
(click on the chart to enlarge, and then click on it again to make it larger)



3 miles up the road they were still talking about it!
Once we got past the store in W. Boylston things ramped up again, and got really fast along Rt 12 all the way to Sterling Center, and fast again after Sterling Center all the way to N. Row. It seemed like every time I looked over Duncan on the steel Huffy was by himself on the outside, I don’t know if he was practicing his time trialing, or just couldn’t get into the slipstream. Whatever the case he probably cranked out more watts than anyone on last night’s ride and he doesn’t need a power meter on that bike of his.
Regrouped and then began the final climb of the night all the way up to Sholan Farms where we regrouped one last time before the crazy descent down Pleasant St. through downtown Leominster to 13, once over Rt. 2 there were some crazy moves to get over to Hamilton St.

Not the ride I wanted to do on the longest Tuesday night of the year, I would’ve preferred doing more miles, but it was good that Daren picked out the route he did, it kept us pretty dry and the ride really fast.

And in all my pain and suffering I forgot to stop at the shop to pick something up I promised someone I would pick up after the ride. I’ll stop in tomorrow, I promise.

late edit; here are a couple of profiles from last night's ride. Both make me realize I suck!

JC:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/37853981

Dr. Robert:

Who'e Beth anyway?

It's Jen, the "chick on the yellow Pinerello".
I just learned that today when I ran into her at the shop.

Now I need to go back and edit every single post where "Beth" is mentioned.
Doh!

Tuesday night ride report 6/15/10

As advertised June is here and the Tuesday night ride is now officially fast!
And last night’s route seemed the cruelest of the year.
Daren took us along a route that had hills, hills and more hills. There were a couple hills that had hills on top of hills. And that’s no joke.
And when we finally reached Princeton Center and he told us that there were no more hills to be had, it was a lie.

The stats I have are:
Miles: 47
Time: 2:23
Average: 19.7
Very respectable considering all the climbing we did.

This week there were no pre-ride accidents in the parking lot, we saved all the falls for the ride itself.
New rules are being enacted every week now.
Last night it was decided the warm up portion of the ride would occur over the first ¼ mile between the shop and the lights at Rt. 13.
Once we hit Prospect St. the ride begins in earnest, you’re either with us or your not.
By the time we reached the top of Prospect there was already a noticeable gap, Daren commented on burning a match trying to bridge up to the lead group.
So now everyone needs to pay attention, even early on in the ride, to prevent gaps from opening up.
The ride up Prospect set the tone of the night.
Took the right and rode down past the shopping center – since it’s only a T bone intersection another new rule, no stopping for the red light.
A quick regroup when we hit the intersection of Mechanic St.
Left onto Mechanic St, more fast riding leading out to Rt. 70.
Once on Rt. 70 you had a choice, either hold the wheel in front of you for the next 4 miles, or be dropped. It was every man woman and child for themselves as the speed continuously picked up as we made our way deeper and deeper into the pain zone.
By the time we got to the end it appeared the ride was still mostly together.
Taking the right onto 117 we nearly lost our first rider, Beth, to an idiot in a pickup who didn’t feel like stopping to let the ride take the left onto Langden. The driver either had a serious case of road rage or was late getting home for dinner, but he was a complete a-hole, even as Beth was stopping to take the left, he continued on before slamming on his brakes to avoid running her over.
The speed was moderate along Langden, I think everyone wanted to save themselves for the climbing to come.
Once we took the right onto George Hill Road the events of the night begin getting a little fuzzy.
Hitting the first hill of the night I tried going off, not intentionally, I just knew there were a lot of really good climbers with us and expected people to start launching attacks – Natalie was close behind, as we were going up she warned me to save myself because there was a lot more climbing to come.
Being a man I’m not prone to take advice from others, no matter how good the advice may be.
Don’t know the name of the road at the top, went right heading into Sterling before coming out onto Rt. 12.
This is where I realized I had problems, only 1 GU to get me over the next 30 or so miles with lots of hills in front of us. Need to plan this just right, should I take a ½ pack there and save the rest for later – or should I wait. If I only take ½ the pack I have to put the other ½ back in my jersey pocket which leads to relationship problems when my wife does the laundry and wonders what all the sticky stuff is all over my jersey. I tried explaining, but she has this vision from the movie “Something about Mary” – nuff said about that.
I decided to save my GU for later.

More hills going up N Row, riders off the front, should I stay or should I go? Chase or stay back? Decisions decisions. I don’t like the road condition so I sat in and watched Thomas, Jeff and several others ride away.
Quick regroup at the intersection and this is where things get real fuzzy for me – I can’t remember which way we went – straight across or a left onto Heywood. Whatever, more climbing, more suffering.
Reached the next intersection where some people rolled through, others stopped to wait for an oncoming car.
One thing I need to learn is don’t expect the rider in front of you to think the same way you do. I would’ve rolled with the rest of the group, but the rider in front of me played it smart, unclipped and stopped. But I didn’t have time to react and fell over before I could unclip.
The first casualty of the night.
The only harm done was to my ego. Picked the bike up, quick check, no cracked carbon, good to go. Took off, but damn, those who rolled through were already ½ mile up the road.
I was pissed at myself so I took off with the intent of bridging the gap, "Turning the pedals in complete anger" as Phil Ligget would say, "he wants to annilhilate the competion behind him to make up for his momentary lack of concentration at the earlier stop sign".
Sometimes I’m not as smart as I think I am. Not only was I unable to gain on the front group, Jeff goes flying past me on my left as if I were standing still, grabbed his wheel and tried to hang on to the next regroup. More pain!
At this point of the ride I don’t even know what state I’m in – but this might be where we pulled into Sterling Center and regrouped.
Took a left and then a right in Sterling and started the climb that never seemed to end.
Looking at Google Maps I see Kendall Hill Rd, Swett Hill Rd. Chace Hill Rd., I’m sure we hit everyone of those, but where the hell was Downhill Rd?
All the climbers had their fun, Thomas, Jeff, Sarah on the blue Spin Arts bike, Dawn on the 650s, Amy, a lot of riders getting ready for Mt. Washington.
Count me out for that one - I have other plans for that day that don’t include trying to get up 8 miles of 12% average gradient. They involve a couch, six pack and a Sponge Bob marathon.
Besides, if I can’t make it up Pack Manadnock in my 39/25 without unclipping 3 times, I’d never make it up Washington, even with the proper gearing.
Eventually came out to 110 in Sterling, somewhere along the way a couple of other riders fell, or maybe it was one rider who fell a couple of times as the story was told to me today.
And while on 110 heading into W. Boylston I heard the unmistakable sound of a crash, something I’d never heard before on the Tuesday night ride.
Everything stopped while we waited to make sure the person who went down was okay. I heard he was, but his bike was in distress. Not sure if he was able to continue on.
Some hung back to help while Daren sent the rest of the group off to wait at the store up the road.
Between the crash and the store Psycho on the green Liquigas bike flatted.
Noah swings back to help.
World record tube change – I stood over him with the stop watch, started the watch, tick tick tick, Noah had the wheel off the bike in 10 seconds.
Another 55 seconds to have the tire and tube off the rim (no tire lever for Noah, it only slows him down).
20 seconds to inspect the tire, no foreign objects in the tire.
Partially inflate tube, wheel over the tube, quick inspection to ensure bead is secure inside the rim, 65 seconds.
C02 cartridge on the valve, inflate to 60psi, quick check, bead secure, finish inflating to 120psi, 10 seconds.
Click! Stop watch stopped!
Total time 2 minutes 45 seconds, world record time!
Look for the video on You Tube sometime in the next couple of weeks.

Regroup at the store in W. Boylston, I inhaled my GU, no sticky residue on the jersey tonight - headed right onto 140, taking a left onto Laurel St, nice quick pace all the way to the intersection of 31.
One last regroup, time to think about what’s ahead.
Roll out onto 31, the pace is nice and steady as it should be.
Somehow I ended up near the back, sat in for minute before getting worried, not about the climb but rather that I might miss a move up front.
Pulled to the left and started moving up until I was at the front.
And then off the front, completely unintentional.
Sometimes I’m not as smart as I think I am.
Oh well, what’s done is done, I'm off the front, alone, these things usually work better when you have 2 or 3 others make the move with you, but no one wanted to help me in my suffering – once you’ve made a move and are off the front it’s against the rules to sit up and wait for help, you’ve made your decision to go it alone, enjoy the ride cuz it’s going to hurt.
While I was enjoying my alone time I kept wondering where Thomas, Jeff and all the other climbers were.
Why didn't they paying attention to my move?
Give a guy some help, this friggin’ hurts!
But they were all playing it smart, knowing these Cat 5 breaks usually go one way, and that’s back.
Nothing left to do but find the right gear and ride it alone and see how things work out.
I have no idea how far I made it, up to my eyeballs in pain I started hearing the clicking of gears, the climbers covered, one last effort to try and stay away but I was doomed, too many burnt matches making it as far as I did.
I finally found Thomas and Jeff, they were on my wheel, and then off my wheel (where were they when I needed them?) – oh well I’d be willing to accept a podium spot for 3rd, except then someone else passed me (John on the Tarmac?), and another (Dawn?), and Dave Lystra?– and then the lights went out as just as the yellow building in Princeton Center came into view.
Damn that was fun!
One last regroup trying to figure out the best way back to the shop.
Daren made the decision – go down 31 all the way to the right onto Hobbs and finish up by coming out by Grandview CC. “There’s no more hills if we go that way”.
Leaving Princeton Center things got really fast as we headed down the next several miles of Rt. 31.
I couldn’t hang on with my 52/12, yet there were a lot of female riders, many of them riding compact gearing who were keeping up.
Took the turn onto Hobbs, things were getting dark, and scary with the quick turns on those down hills, sand and holes all over the place, riders all over the road and cars coming around corners does not make for a good combination.
The fun ended when the hills began again.
I knew Daren was full of shit when he said there were no more hills left, there’s a huge hill going up Hobbs/ Lucas Rd and to add to the suffering it gets steeper when you take the sharp left onto Hastings, and it continues going up all the way to Grandview.
I couldn’t believe how hard the women in the group were riding – the group I was in included Sarah on the blue Spin Arts bike, Cathy on the Colnago, Dawn, Beth and I think Amy might’ve been there as well. They were hammering while I was doing what I could to hang on.
Finally made it to Grandview.
The climbing was over for the night.
Things were already split up when we began going down hill, and even more when we hit Pleasant St. Missed Pond Street, came out by Wyman’s and went through Downtown Leominster, some of riders took the right onto 13, I’ve been down that road at night before and decided to ride up to Hamilton to Global Fitness.
Given the large number of vehicles in the Gear Works parking lot and taking up spaces for customers, I would suggest more people part in the Global parking lot. Much more convenient getting out of.

Next week is Summer Solstice so we have to at least get in 50 miles.

Tuesday night report 6/8/10

This is the information I pulled from my Garmin.
40 miles
1:58
Average speed was 20.5 (before I flatted and had to limp back to the shop)

Everyone knows how it ended (read the previous post if you don't).
Here’s the rest of the report.
Lining up you knew it was going to be fast, As we pulled out of the shop I had to ask if I wasn’t on the A ride, seriously there were a lot of riders from the A ride, some had excuses, Rob recovering from surgery was legitimate, others such as Andrew was just plain sandbagging.
Nonetheless it made for a fast ride which is always good.

Before we pulled out someone had an accident, a rookie mistake we’ve all made. I won’t say what it was, but we’ve all done it and it involved a yellow Pinerello and a woman who rides sleeveless.
What happened?

We left the shop, I heard Ernie getting excited over some dresses Natalie purchased on Newbury St., but he wasn’t actually getting excited over the dresses, he was telling Daren to act excited when he saw the dresses.
I could tell Daren needed more advice on this marriage thing so I stepped in to help with some helpful hints on maintaining a healthy marriage:
1. Act like you don’t care when you see the bill for the dresses
2. Leave the toilet seat down when done
3. Don’t leave your dirty bib shorts on the bedroom floor (especially if you ride commando)
4. They think it’s sexy when you do laundry, wash the dishes and run a vacuum, stuff like that.
5. Act like you don’t care when you see the bill for the dresses
6. no matter what anyone tells you, bigger really is better. Specifically when it comes to carets and bank accounts.

Daren was especially quiet the rest of the ride, I think my words of advice brought the reality of it all to him, being married and the committing of one’s life to another, dress shop bills, toilet seats, laundry, JCPenney bills, Macy Bills, bills, bills, and more bills.
Oh wait, that’s my life.
Daren, just remember to leave the seat down and you’ll be fine.

Down Hamilton to Prospect to the back roads that cut over to the road that leads us to Lunenburg Center.
Once we took the right turn the warm up was over.
As they always do the ride took off as we started our way up Leominster Rd for the 4-5 miles up to Lunenburg Center. Find a wheel, hang on, take a pull, fall back, repeat.
Found myself in a good group that included Andrew, Natalie, Rob on the six13, Alan Jr. (sorry, don’t remember your name) and a few others. We got a good line going which pretty much stayed together all the way into town.
From there we took a right and headed towards W. Townsend Rd, people took it easy drafting off Big Dave, Charlie was off the front doing his own ride.
No real damage done on that section, although we did need to hold up trying to get across Rt. 13.
Once across the road the pace lifted.
Considerably.
A group of 5 or 6 were off the front before I even realized the move had been made.
I wanted to be in that group, I went off and tried to bridge – damn it hurt, I was less than 50 feet from completing it when I gave into the pain and slowed.
That’s called an epic fail, all that work without being able to seal the deal.
Someone fell off the lead group so I had a wheel to ride, when I recovered we both worked to get to the top of W. Townsend where everything came back together before all hell broke loose on the descent into Townsend. Fast with riders all over the road, cars up, cars back, horns blaring – at least no one kicked up a stone into someone’s windshield this week.
Might as well enjoy the ride down, most of us knew what was coming once we got across 119.
Regrouped again in W Townsend before heading towards the hills.
Somewhere around Charlie’s neighborhood Dave Lystila (the Fin) dropped off – wasn’t feeling good, but I bet he was going to break into Charlie’s house and go for those aged filets Charlie planning on grilling up after the ride.
If you had to pick a spot to drop, that was it.
Made our way down Mason Rd, chatting it up with Andrew, letting him know he was getting bumped to the A ride because he’s the biggest sandbagger on the B ride.
Duncan was riding that steel framed Huffy with the down tube shifters hard.
And then he let it slip, wanting to know if there were any other Cat 3s on the ride.
He’d done a race the week before and wanted to get back into it.
Wait, he raced on the Huffy. I thought you could only race with a high end carbon frame and expensive carbon wheels – oh yeah, that’s the 5s, there are still guys racing Masters on old steel frames, and they love dropping carbon.
I need to rethink my strategy for Cat 5 races. Maybe I’ll stop at the Salvation Army this weekend to see if I can find an old Sears 10 speed, with toe strap pedals, or maybe flat pedals. And then go off the front of a cat5 race and prove to them it’s not about the bike.
It’s all about the batteries, right Noah?

Enough fun – the hills were in front of us.
It starts gradually but ramps up quick.
Gaps quickly opened, a group of 4 or 5 were away.
Another group of 6 or so chased.
Another slow death grinding it up the Barrett Hill Rd. At least I was in the chase group with some cover from the wind – if there was ever a point on the Tuesday night ride where I felt like just sitting up and quitting, it was climbing up that hill.
Keep turning the pedals, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, find a rhythm and keep the pace. It kind of worked.
Up the road I saw the rider, but I didn’t know what was going on, just some dude in shorts and a tee shirt out for a leisurely ride, but this was a recreational rider, this guy rode the riders up front right off his wheel, dropped them like they were standing still.
The pain and suffering continued as the next part of the climb began.
3 off the front, Andrew, Brandt and Alan Jr., 3 of us chasing but there was no way we were going to close it, they were flying up the hill.
The 3 of us worked well, myself, John on the red/ white Tarmac, and the guy on the silver/ black Cannondale (FCC kit?) – each of us taking our pulls, peeling off and getting back on but still not gaining on the riders up ahead.
Somewhere near the top silver Cannondale clicked down several cogs, sonofabitch, I couldn’t believe he was going to make a move and leave his group behind.
But alls fair in love and bike racing and with about 200 meters to go he took off leaving John and myself watching him ride off to the top.
Regrouped at the high school.

While we were waiting for the regroup, chatting, I realized something.
Brandt is one of the most brilliant people I know other than myself. He came up with this idea,
someone needs to map out a route with all the ice cream stands in the area and we’ll do a Tuesday night ice cream ride where we’ll replace the town line sprints with the ice cream stand sprints, if we plan it right we can probably hit at least 6 or 7 in a night, have a baby cone at each and then sprint to Kimball’s on Rt. 70 and top it off with a “Kimball’s special” before the final sprint to the shop to see who can get to the bathroom first.
Brilliant I tell you, simply Brilliant!
Well done Brandt. Our ride leader needs to follow up on this idea, Daren.

Ho hum, picking up where I left off, we headed down, took the hard left onto River Road, almost missed it with the sun in my eyes. Good thing no cars up.
Over the next 5 or so miles the roads seemed to get progressively worse as the speed seemed to get progressively faster, I was hoping there’d be no frames exploding on roads worse than the cobbles of the European Spring Classics, the worst section being the last ½ mile before coming out to 119 in Ashburnham.
Oh yeah, I finally got to know Kathy on the Colnalgo and Rob on the Six13’s names (the cyclocross contingent). I’ve only been riding with Kathy for 4 years, I should know her name by now and she usually gives me some good material for the ride report.
Crossed over 119, ah 101, my favorite stretch of road, it’s always fast and we always seem to get a line of traffic behind us. 2 years ago was my first time getting pulled over as a group by the Ashburnham PD, lucky for us we had Susan and Chet with us that night to explain to the cop the rules of the road.
I think he retired after being dressed down like that.
Anyways, again it was crazy coming down 101, although it did seem like we had an excellent line going, there’s no way of going too far right because the road is so beat up so the line hung closer to the middle of the road.
More stimulus money please!
Got down to 12 and regrouped. I tried reasoning with everyone to go slow over the next 6 miles into Fitchburg – as if that were ever going to happen.
Everyone had a smile on their face as we started the long descent down, everyone except Charlie who’s riding compact gearing, I think he needed to keep his cadence around 150 to hang on.
Fun times, just make sure you don’t lose the wheel in front of you or you’re off and need to catch on with the next group.
Everything suddenly came to a grinding halt. Forgot all about the bridge being repaired and the light the state put up to get people over the one lane. Of course we had to hit the red light, I think some riders made it across and never looked back all the way to the light near Gamache’s in Fitchburg.

Having to come through Fitchburg isn’t much fun, you can’t get any speed going, but we did find a way of getting riders out of the road. All you need is to have “ambulance back” and riders actually move to the right.
The rest of the ride through Fitchburg was uneventful as we turned and went over the 5th St. Bridge, down Summer St to Bemis.
I could feel my HR picking up, anticipating what was going to happen when we turned onto Airport Rd.
I had BIG plans in mind for that finishing 2 miles, especially the last 1.5 miles, I was thinking about where I was going to make my move, how I was going to solo off the front to pick up my first win of the year.

Dreams die hard.
If you want to know the rest read the previous post and the comments that followed.

The end.

Dumbass move on the tuesday nighter

In case anyone already read it,I merged the previous "Dumbass" post into this one.

This is me, after the dumbass move I made on last night's finishing sprint!



How it went down:

First off, who were the 2 riders way off the front on Airport Rd?
Did they really open up a 1/4 mile gap, or were they as someone mentioned, 2 riders who took a wrong turn in Fitchburg and ended up off the front.
If anyone knows, please post in the comments section.

I picked tonight to launch my attack, I knew the point on Airport Rd where I wanted to jump, just over the Nashua River bridge where the Nissin outlet store is (way to far out but no guts no glory) - I had it lined up pretty good, moving up on the outside once I was off the front I looked up and saw the 2 aforementioned riders up the road.
Good, a target.
That's when I turned my head to the ground and tried to bury myself and not think about the pain.
Somehow I opened up a gap on the main group, but I didn't know it because I was too afraid to look back, I just wanted to keep digging.
When I reached the uphill leading up to the airport I finally looked back, "holy shit, I really did open a gap"
Concentrate, keep turning the pedals as fast as possible, win or die trying.
Out of the saddle, legs and lungs burning like hell, heart feels like it's going to explode, but I had a gap and I felt strong. And I had 2 targets up the road and a swarm of angry hornets behind me.
This was going to be the night!
This was supposed to be the night.
Before it all went wrong!
At the worst possible moment - 38 miles into the ride, less than 2 to go.
My heart sunk, I sat up and screamed, "gawdamit!!!!!!" (and a bunch of other bad words) when I heard the pffffffffffffffft coming from the back tire.
I'd made it all night over some of the worst roads in So. NH and No. Central Ma without a problem.
Why did I have to flat with less than 2 miles.
When I was off the front, about to wear the green jersey for the first time in my life.
Maybe.
The 2nd worst part, never knowing if I could've stayed away - most everyone who's raced said no way, the train was winding up behind me and would've overtaken me someone along the airport.
I would beg to differ but I know 20 against 1 aren't great odds. Especially when they're angry.
But the worst part wasn't losing, the worst part which hurt more than anything I've ever experienced on a ride is just sitting up on my bike and waiting for the ride to pass me by and not getting the f*&^ as far over to the right as possible, which I failed to do.
The next thing I knew the 20 riders were coming up hard.
And then I heard the yelling, swearing, "sonofabitch!!!" "what the fuck are you doing?!!!!!" as several riders went off the road to my right to avoid running into the sorry ass rider (me) just sitting there.
Never assume people are going to see you, especially at 8:00pm when the sun has set.
I know Daren and Alan and a couple others got caught up in it. Daren went down, Alan managed to stay up. Thankfully it was in soft sand and there were no serious injuries other that to my ego.

Mea Culpa to all involved in the cluster fuck I created, and even more so for screwing up the finishing sprint.

I'm trying to figure out how much beer it's going to cost to make amends with Daren. I'm thinking at least a case, or 4 or 5 and probably a box of that Almeden wine he's so fond of.

I'm off the ride for several weeks while I take a remedial bike riding class. Maybe I'll get on the Saturday morning C ride for a few weeks and learn.
Maybe I'll be back in late July.


I will get around to writing a full ride report when time allows.
It really was a great ride...up until the last 2 miles anyway....