The Racing Recipe

Years ago, when I was 13 and in my second year of karting, I learned the difference between racing and being raced. The lesson was learned more so than taught, although I am sure I learned it from a combination of experience behind the wheel, my maniacal devotion to David Hobbs and Bob Varsha on ESPN's coverage of Formula 1 and the way my life hinged on the intensely detailed commentary from "Jer' and Lar'" on Thursday Night Thunder. As an aside, Thursday Night Thunder morphed into Friday Night Thunder, then Saturday Night Lightning and eventual it disappeared into the ether as ESPN went from cool and interesting to boring and irrelevant. The series was devoted to the USAC Silver Crown and Midget racing series that was (and likely still is) very popular in the Midwest and California. Watching a 2.0L USAC Midget rocket around a 1/4 mile asphalt oval, spooling the outside rear tire into a 15 minute lifetime of thinly haloed tire smoke and rubber marbles, was the kind of thing I lived for throughout my youthful existence. But, I digress... The lesson learned from all the broadcast coverage, and first-hand experience behind the wheel, was that every race weekend was going to be dominated by the manner in which I raced, and this manner was largely driven by confidence as a motivator of attitude.

Summation It was possible to show up for a race weekend and either drive the race in such a way that the result was controlled and influenced by me, or it was possible to show up and be driven by the race, or driven by others in the race. The term driven here is not suggesting motivation, but instead represents a lack of control. This is not to say that I was out of control of the kart while racing, it simply means that my actions in the race were largely reactive to what was happening around me. While this can be a factor of racing without a plan, it is ultimately a question of confidence. To show up at a competition and race the event was a result of proactively making things happen to my benefit. On good weekends I could proactively race my competitors into bad positions and situations that allowed me to take advantage of their actions, which generally means forcing my competition into a mistake. On bad weekends I would feel as though I was always on the back foot, being taken by surprise and chasing -or struggling- the entire time. Racing is a recipe; here are some of the ingredients.

Preparation Being fully prepared for a race prior to arrival was a key to confidence. Scurrying around the paddock to make last minute changes, adjustments and fixes always served to erode my confidence in either the equipment, my ability to pilot it around the circuit or my belief that it was set-up properly to allow the kind of driving style I had adopted for that circuit and during that particular event. While racing is a series of adaptations to the prevalent conditions of both circuit and machine, I had to know that the kart was ready to go and that it could mechanically withstand anything I asked of it. Being prepared also helped me maintain a cool head, positive attitude and calm demeanor throughout the race weekend, especially while driving. Attitude Confident, proactive decision making is the primary result of a good attitude. If I am thinking with a clear mind and proactively racing the event by being in control then I am making all the decisions -or adapting seamlessly to unexpected situations- during a race, and this is a direct result of my confident attitude. While it is perfectly normal to be realistic in your aspirations and expectations, it is still critical to have a good attitude about those expectations. Going into a race knowing I was off the pace, and likely only fighting for a top 5 result, was fine as long as I maintained a positive and aggressive attitude that was focused on achieving the best result possible with the equipment and resources we had available. The right attitude does not employ adrenaline or over-confidence and is aggressively focused on an end result.

Focus Feeling at peace during the race, especially in the heat of wheel-to-wheel battle, is crucial and leads to proactive decision making. Adrenaline and over-confidence lead to choppy inputs, indecisive lines and the general feeling that you are doing everything you can just to stay on the track and in touch with the pack. Adrenaline charged decisions are rarely good ones and their results are typically mired in embarrassment or the sudden realization that the body was not capable of the mind's infatuated expectations. Adrenaline also has a short half-life, and when it does wear off the tired feeling hits not only the body, but also the mind. This compound depletion of resources is the primary reason I always choose to prepare for a race with a few moments of silence instead of a rousing "pump up". Being truly focused is also the lack of thought, to some degree. The mind, body and machine were operated to their maximum potential and none of it had to be 'thought about', it simply happened as a natural consequence of being focused. That maximum potential may have only resulted in a 5th place, but it was a well-earned result.

Attitude as a Physical State The physical manifestation of the above has always been critical, and it is immediately observable. Sitting with my head tilted down, eyes narrowed, shoulders and arms loose and body relaxed was obvious from the outside and always a direct result of confidence and the correct mental attitude. The physical attributes are a self-fulfilling prophecy and will always lead to the best possible result. The loss of this level of concentration, and physical attitude, for even a few moments normally ended in a disappointing trip into the tire wall. A driver that was not displaying the correct physical attitude typically meant that their head was upright, and their body was actually being jolted around by their choppy inputs and the sloppy movement of the kart as a result. It was so obvious you could actually predict when and where the unfocused driver would loose control and go off track. On the positive side, my father was so keenly aware of the physical manifestation of my attitude that he could predict, with near 100% accuracy, when and where I would attempt a decidedly insane late breaking pass on a competitor. On more than one occasion this resulted in audible gasps from observers and a wry smile from my father, as well as good stories for us to share after the race.

Tie it Together Karting, like any motorsport, is best performed on the knife-edge of control. It was a delicate mix of the conservation of momentum through smooth steering, throttle and brake inputs and an aggressive "throw it into a four wheel drift with minimal steering input and a pinned throttle" driving style where the latter was actually done properly (i.e.- sadistically fast) only by full employment of the former. It was entirely possible to smoothly slide a kart into an apex with the tires loaded to their maximum threshold and the frame flexed to the limits of structural soundness at nearly wide open throttle. At mid-corner, and with 3g loaded into the chassis and tires, you could selectively balance the whole thing on three wheels so that only the inside front, and then only the inside rear, tire would lift an inch or two off the ground and glide elegantly over the rough curbing before the whole mess of steel, rubber and humanity sprung back into shape and launched out of the corner with the engine detonating at 12,000 RPM. This dance was especially enjoyable in an esses and chicanes. The aggressive and focused driving style, while tremendous fun, was only possible when I was fully confident in all aspects of the vehicle and my abilities as a driver. Additionally, I didn't have to think about any of it while it was happening. I just did it, and would later revel in the memories with my father as I relived the race for him corner by corner at our little trailer. The result was also a product of having the attitude that I was racing to a focused and planned result.

Bicycles. Wait, bicycles? Amazingly (unless you know me well), all of that is nothing more than a lead-in to helping explain a recent result from my latest endeavor: Bicycle racing. It also helps you, dear reader, understand what is meant when I say that for my first event of 2012 I was being raced to an end result that was only somewhat planned, and not optimal. My poor showing was a direct result of my attitude going into the event. The self-fulfilling prophecy of being raced into finishing with the main pack, instead of being on the attack and in a break, was driven by my attitude going into the race, a debt of confidence and the lack of a sound plan. I missed the main break of the day because I was camped out at the back of the peloton being affected by the decidedly poor skills of many other riders. I was also at the back because I was not focused and I was being raced into an uncomfortable position of having to chase hard just to stay in touch with the leaders. The event started much more quickly than I anticipated and while it did slow considerably before too long, it zapped some of my energy and, mentally, put me on the back foot. I was now riding hard just to stay with the pack, rather than assuming my customary role of producing excessive wattage and making others wonder how many children I had consumed for breakfast. Additionally, I have zero confidence in my ability to corner hard on the bicycle. Much of this is owed to an unforgettably brief foray into motorcycle road racing that manifested itself in a few good memories, a collection of worn out knee pucks, four broken bones, a fair amount of debt and a complete lack of confidence in my ability to maintain decent corner speed. Add to that the joy of being hit head-on by a car while bicycling and I am a bit gun shy when it comes to laying the bicycle over into a corner. My feel for the limits of the tires is completely masked by my fear of low-siding and getting injured. My decision to rail around the outside of a hairpin corner, dragging the rear brake to tighten my line, results in many lost positions and the need to accelerate hard out of the corner. This wastes not only massive amounts of time, but also energy that should be conserved and used for a decisive attack. Oddly, the 42 degree banked corners at the Superdrome seem completely normal and acceptable by comparison... So, what is the good news?

The Good News There is always good news, even in situations where things seem to be little more than a bit crappy.
1) I stayed in the main pack for the entire race. On lap three a hard acceleration up a 12% climb (repeated 19 times) split the field and many racers were left behind.
2) My form (endurance & power) is quite good.
3) I know what attributes I need to work on to become more competitive: corner confidence and acceleration (snap).
4) Given the way I dealt with a few morons, I am also now keenly aware of how to effective deal with repeat offenders who think it is acceptable to force others off the road by diving through the corners with little regard for those around them.
5) I had a lot of fun, which in the end is the only thing that actually matters to me. Results are nice but I will gladly attempt, and fail, to attack during races this season if -just once- it actually works.

Hell Week Day 7 - Southern Comfort 1.75

Distance: 100 miles (Garmin accidentally turned off for a bit)
Time: 5:42:51
Elevation Gain: 5,817 ft

A fierce 18+ mph wind was blowing out of the South Southeast when we rolled out from the Sunset Inn this morning so we decided to stick to the route going out, then modify it in Waring / Welfare and give ourselves a nice tailwind coming back to the barn. As a result we logged a little over 70 miles (I accidentally turned off the Garmin at one point) and when I returned to the B&B I felt good enough to head due North into some hills for extra miles. The return trip was tough, but the views were well worth the extra effort.

With only one day left to go in Hell Week and the weather becoming ever more questionable (T-Storms & 24+ mph winds) we decided to make the most of our last day and the four of us that are still here (Chuck, Jeff, Tom & me) stuck together for the duration. Chuck, as always, slaughtered us on every climb. Jeff was riding great today as well and I really enjoyed his company throughout the day. Tom, of course, was our tour guide and did the lion's share of the work.

We rolled south for quite a ways and battled the headwind for many miles. The climbs were already going to be tough, then add in a hard headwind and they get that much more difficult. Still, we stuck together and had a great time. I heard another mix of great stories today (again, as usual) about Hell Week's past and this helped pass the time nicely. Coming up to the Old Tunnel area I managed to drop my bottle in the middle of a climb. I retrieved it thanks to another kind cyclist, and Chuck waited for me until I got it back and we continued.

After the Old Tunnel / Bat Cave and heading toward Waring we picked up a massive group of cyclists. Our number swelled from 4 to 25 in about a mile. Still fighting the headwind we plodded down the road and none of them (despite catching us as a group) offered to come around and pull. Jeff had a great idea and told me to just start soft pedaling and drop the pace. We did so and got as slow as 12 mph before people finally started coming around. The whole group passed us, Jeff and I giggling the entire time, before we accelerated and got on the back. The others decided they wanted to let a gap open but I had other plans.

Since I wanted them all to learn how to work I got on the back and waited a few minutes, then slipped outside and went up toward the front. Coming into a short drop at a water crossing I dove out and attacked. I sprinted off in hopes they'd take the bait... and they did. With a 100 meter gap I slowed and allowed the pack to close on me and simply retake my draft. I then attacked again and opened another large gap then sat up and pedaled at a decent pace and allowed them to catch me... this continued for another three or four attacks before I finally pulled wide and allowed them to come around. I don't know that it made any real point to them, but for me it was just a great example of how people ride like lemmings. Rather than set their own pace or ride within themselves, they simply race after whoever is up the road and then sit on that person's wheel until they absolutely have to come around.

In Waring we filled up at the fantastic convenience store / dance hall and then headed out of town toward Comfort. In Comfort we modified the route and headed due North back toward Fredericksburg and took full advantage of the now incredible tailwind. We rolled back into town and I headed toward the B&B that Betty and I rented for the week. Upon arriving I checked the computer and saw only 68 miles on the ticker. I knew we had worked hard, but I really wanted more miles.

After refilling water and eating a few more Fig Newtons I headed North on Adams to Lower Crabapple and followed that due North toward Route 965. I rode up about 12 miles before turning around (80 miles now on the Garmin) and heading South back toward town and into a very strong wind. The views were incredible going out coming back in so it was well worth the effort. Add to that some excellent climbs coming back in and it made for a great little extension to the day's route.

Hell Week Day 8 -->

Turkey Day Stage

For Thanksgiving my wife and I were going to be headed to her grand parent's house in Rockwall. They have a traditional lunch with family in town from Houston but I was desperate to get a ride in as the roads would be empty and traffic nearly nonexistent.

I planned a route using Google Maps that would take me on out from our apartment on familiar roads that I use every Saturday morning on RBM Frisco's A ride. From there I branched East through downtown McKinney, then North through New Hope and East to Princeton. I then kept the route well above 380 and rode North of Lake Lavon before heading South past Famrersville, Copeville, Lavon and into Rockwall.



All told it was a 72 mile route, mostly on County and Farm to Market roads. Aside from 15+ miles of chip & seal on TX-78, the route was good with low traffic and nice blacktop. When all was said and done I made the trip in 3 hrs 45 mins (18.9 avg) with a slight wind out of the Northwest. And, unfortunately, one bottle of water. I had two with me, but the cold temperature had me fooled into thinking I did not need to hydrate as often. I paid the penalty in reduced energy levels when I reached Copeville, and especially Lavon.

One of these days, I might learn something about hydration...

Tour das Hugel

100 Miles of Austin’s Most Painful Hills




A little over 400 cyclists started Tour das Hugel 2009 from Zilker Park, but less than half of them would finish the entire 110 mile event. Those that did manage to finish could go home feeling proud of their accomplishment, as TdH took in the steepest and tallest hills in Austin, TX. Here is a short list of some of the steeper roads and grades of each ascent...


Westlake Dr. to Top of 360 3-4%
360 Bridge Base up to Westlake Dr. 5-6%
Bee Caves Hills (2244) 5-6%
Oasis Bluff Dr. 7-10%
360 Hill going up to 2244 Exit 6-7%
McNeil Drive (Backside near Old Spicewood) 10%
Comanche Trail (First leg) 3-15%
Comanche Trail (Second leg) 3-15%
Toro Canyon Dr. 7-12%
Westlake Dr. 7-10%
2222 Hill to 620 10%
Red Bud Trail 10-17%
Far West Blvd. (Backside) 13%
Bluegrass Dr. 10-15%
Lost Creek Blvd. 10-15%
Courtyard Drive 10-19%
15% first leg, 10% second leg, 19% last leg
Bullick Hollow from Oasis Bluff to 620 15%
Jester Blvd. 15%
Beauford Dr. 15-19%

The beautiful scenery and weather definitely helped get us through the event; there were many times the climbs lead to gorgeous overlooks that were spoiled only by the now sprawling neighborhoods that are taking over the central Texas hill country.




The first portion of TdH was a 38 mile loop that took in the first few difficult climbs…
Loop 360 - 6 miles
Westlake - 8
Toro Canyon - 10
The High Rd - 12
Terrace Mtn - 16
River Hills - 26
Barton Creek - 29
Lost Creek - 34
Zilker Park - 38 miles

…before returning to Zilker Park for a resupply before starting lap two. Many of the riders who went out on a fast pace for the first lap were finished and did not even attempt to start the second lap. Going out on lap two we were faced with the following climbs:



Mt. Bonnell - 5 miles
Mesa - 7
Smokey Valley - 11
Blue Grass - 15
Beauford - 22
Courtyard - 24
River Place - 30
Bullick Hollow - 36
Mansfield Dam - 40
620 - 43
Big View - 52
Jester - 56
Loop 360 - 65
Finish at Zilker Park - 71 miles (110 total)

This was, easily, the most pain and suffering I have ever experience on a bicycle. While I would have loved to have spun my way up many of the climbs, my cadence fell below 65rpm on numerous climbs and it required all of my strength to keep pulling through. Add to that a heart rate spiking to 200bpm and many of the climbs that leveled briefly from 15% to a 10% grade felt like rests. In the end I completed the entire ride without ever having to walk the bike or stop in the middle of a climb. Given the number of people that did have to walk up many of the steepest ascents, I feel proud to have completed Hugel in the clips! It hurt, I felt pain in muscles I didn’t know existed, but the sense of accomplishment at the finish was phenomenal.

Fuso thinks...

Fuso must watch his step. This great lion is not so much of a coward.


Fuso pays a visit to the Meyerson, but knows deep down he is music in motion.


Fuso wonders if ancient Egyptians worshiped the power of the fixed gear.


Fuso stops for a few moments of silent contemplation with the all powerful Buddha of Fixies. “May all your journeys be as swift, smooth and silent as the Eastern winds.”


Fuso counts his lucky stars for having paint and clear coat to protect against the elements.


A little arrogant perhaps, but Fuso thinks everyone should be bowing down to him now.


Fuso poses with the pastel goodness of the Color Wall.


Fuso wonders where Steve Martin is when you need him.

Fixie Commuter #2

Dennis,
Once again I must thank you for all of the up keep you do on Fixed
Gear Gallery. This is my second submission, although this is my third
fixed gear bicycle! My first submission, #5355, was sold to another
happy owner in late 2007 when a career change took me away from the
ability to bicycle commute. My second fixed gear, an EAI Brass
Knuckle, is used for track racing at The Superdrome and is currently
sitting in the garage awaiting the start of the 2009 racing season.
Having recently changed jobs once again, I found myself with a
wonderful opportunity to commute to work by bicycle! I started out
looking to build up a Salsa Casserole or Soma Delancy, but then I
found this excellent gem at one of the many LBSs.



This is Fuso #1020, a 53 cm creation of the wonderfully talented Dave
Moulton! I had seen the bike hanging in the used section for about a
month before I bothered looking it up online. Thanks to Wikipedia and
Mr. Moulton's own website I learned that this is from 1987, and is a
30th Anniversary model. One ride had me in love, and I knew I needed
to pick it up with the intention of a fixed gear conversion. The paint
scheme is beautiful and something of an oddity compared to most
current designs. The ride is classic steel, and feels wonderful on the
road. This frame is so well constructed, it makes my carbon road bike
seem almost unnecessary. I commuted for several months on the original
equipment, late 80's Dura-Ace, before the cone bearings in the rear
wheel made gliding nearly impossible and I decided to strip the bike
the second week of January and completed the ground-up rebuild and
conversion in a couple of hours.



I'm turning a 42 x 16, which I have found to be perfect for commuting,
spin training and still provides me with excellent speed. I stuck with
the Dura-Ace cranks and liquid smooth bottom bracket, and a Mavic
Aksium wheel I had picked up to replace the original -whose cone
bearings had bought the farm a month earlier. The rear wheel, an XRP
creation, comes off my Brass Knuckle after two season of track racing.
The Sella Italia seat, Campy Daytona front brake and Profile bar tape
are off of a retired Pinarello Galileo, while the Chorus carbon seat
post and hoods were salvaged off of a Fausto Coppi Neuron that was
destroyed when I was hit head-on by a motorist in June 2008. My
commute is 12 miles each way on typical, traffic congested Dallas
roads so the Delta rack and Novara bag are great for carrying a change
of clothes, lunch and any extra gear I'll need. For visibility I have
installed a pair of Planet Bike Beamer headlights plus three tail
lights, all set to blink in different, random ways. I had been running
two tail lights, but after nearly being hit my another motorist a few
days after my birthday, I decided to slap on a third. She was too busy
writing an email on her phone to look up the road, and I'm only
writing this today because her Lexus SUV was equipped with ABS.



Thanks again for all the inspiration, a day after completing this
build I was already thinking about my next project!

Betty Left in Stitches

6:16 PM 09/08/08 - Betty had an accident while riding at White Rock last night. She slid on a very tricky corner when the road was just starting to get wet and sliced her head open, just below the eyebrow. It was a blood everywhere kind of thing.

6:18 PM - Betty called, "Where are you? I just went down. I'm bleeding a lot from my head."

6:20 PM - She went to a house and the homeowner, Brock, helped her out while I drove down there. He’s a RN at Parkland and took great care of her until I was able to get there.

7:22 PM - I picked up Betty and took her to a small hospital by the lake. It was looking like a very long wait and her Scooby was parked at the lake. Not wanting to have the car broken into...

7:30 PM - I drove back home and picked up Will.

7:50 PM - Having discussed Lance's imminent return to pro racing, we continued our drive back to White Rock Lake.

8:40 PM - Betty is moved to a bed in the hallway of the ER.

8:41 PM - Will and I arrive at WRL.

8:42 PM - Will adjust the seat so he can fit all 6 feet of himself into Betty's car.

8:42.30 PM - Will continues adjusting the seat so he can fit in Betty's car.

8:43 PM - Will takes the Scooby back to our place.

9:04 PM - Betty is moved out of the hall and into a room of her own.

11:43 PM - Doctor puts 12 stitches in it.

01:10 AM 09/09/08 - We arrive home

01:30 AM - Finally get in bed after a bowl of cereal and some medication.

05:00 AM - Alarm goes off to wake Betty for work.

05:07 AM - Betty gets up to go to work this morning. Aside from being exhausted and sporting a black eye she’s going to be fine.

Progress: Build Kit Arrives

This afternoon started off very well when I arrived home to find a FedEx slip on my door. Despite my intense hunger, a trip to the apartment office was in order. My parts had arrived from Tom at GVH Bikes and the build was soon to begin! I have already installed the Mavic SSC brake calipers and have an Easton EA90 stem.

I started with what seemed like the most fun, so I installed the seat post and saddle. They're simple, and I was anxious to see Spider Butt on the frame. Thankfully, it looks awesome.
Along with the FSA seat post was a packet of red grease. The packaging claimed to reduce the bolt tightening torque by 30%, so it must be an adhesive of some sort.

I decided to slap on the cranks and bars next. Mostly because I enjoy referring to "my carbon fiber crank" while conversing with non-cyclists. I used more of the red FSA "grease" on the Easton EC90 bars. we'll see what happens.

Next up are the Campagnolo Centaur dérailleurs. The front was installing a little funny, but the rear went on easy enough so I took a picture of it for being so cooperative. The front is fine, it was just more anry to align and set the height. I also popped the Bontrager XXX Lite Carbon Tubular front wheel in place... the stickers look good with the paint scheme, but my customizing mind wants to do something more creative...

Here's the stopping point for the evening. It is coming along nicely but I was short on time and didn't want to get into the cable housing until the morning when I can enlist some help.

Progress: Installation

Slowly, the new Ridley Damocles is starting to take shape. I stripped the stem and brake calipers off my wrecked Fausto Coppi and installed them on the new Ridley. Current stem is a 10cm Easton EA90, but it might be too short.

The most striking aspect of this Ridley frame is the shape of the tubes. This is a monocoque construction, and the tubes are nowhere near round. The top tube is triangular where it meets the head tube, and square-ish where is meets the seat tube.

The head tube is round enough, but mushrooms dramatically like many of today's carbon frames to house a massive bearing surface for the fork. Pictured as well are the Mavic SSC brake calipers that I have learned to love. I'll create a review of those calipers a little later.

The downtube on the Damocles has a beautiful shape as well and cuts a very nice angle down to the bottom bracket where it flares and surrounds the BB with a nice carbon nest. Not visible, but to be photographed later, are the monster chain stays employed by Ridley to make certain this frame will accelerate and climb well.

Making the switch from aluminum to steel when I built up the Fausto Coppi was a real moment for me. I was making a change to a bike that wasn't lighter weight or higher technology, but I was willing to sacrifice a little to realize a ride that could see me in the saddle for hours at a time. I made the switch to steel (Columbus Neuron) and after the build was thankful I had done so, the ride was incredible.

Then the wreck happened, and I was back to square one. Moving on, I was faced once again with what seemed like an endless list (see previous post) of frame sets that could fit the bill. Aluminum was considered, steel and of course carbon. In the end my desire to try a lighter bicycle and carbon won out over all other senility. Over the coming weeks I'll do all that I can to chronicle the build, shakedown and mileage on the new frame. An added dimension: I also picked up a Garmin 305.

Part 3: Sella Italia

Arrival: Ridley

The List

During a full month of waiting to settle things with the driver's insurance company I embarked on a massive research project. The goal: select the replacement frame. Easy as this might sound, I had decided (then undecided, redecided, undecided, etc) to go with a full carbon frame and fork. Seeing as how I don't like to do anything normally, my list -at one point- looked like this:

• Look 585
• Ridley Damocles
• Giant TCR Advance Team ('06)
• Colnago CT2
  
• Cinelli Estrada
• Velo Vie V300
• BMC Team
• Cervelo R3
• Canyon CF Pro
• Wilier Izoard
• Ciocc EOM 16.5 w/carbon rear triangle
• Pegoretti Marcelo
• Mondonico Super Leggera
• Torelli Selvino

The list is mostly carbon frames, but I still included high end steel as possible options. I love the idea of a Pegoretti because it is hand built, just like the Mondonico, but cost and wait time are huge issues. Wait time also eliminated a number of custom frame ideas I had from Strong, Yamaguchi, Don Walker and others. I just wasn't prepared to wait 3 months for delivery.

Decisions, Decisions
I managed to weed a few things out of the list by way of eliminating small manufacturers that I feared either would 1) not be around in a few years, 2) might not be producing a quality product or 3) may not be under factory warranty. This eliminated the Cinelli, Velo Vie, Canyon, Torelli and Ciocc. Although I reconsidered the Ciocc again later, mainly because it is a steel/carbon hybrid that fascinates me, the paint quality is poor and the frame is a New Old Stock from perhaps '03 or '04. The Torelli is a beautiful frame but I couldn't find any reviews online and never knew much about it. I was assured it was quality, but at 950 grams for the whole frameset I was worried that it might flex or twist badly.



After a conversation with Sgt. D I found that I needed to keep my budget in check and be sure to be putting a little money back in the bank. No sense in blowing things out completely. This eliminated the Pegoretti and BMC Team, as well as the Cervelo. Truly though, the Cervelo would have been too "normal" for me as I see at least 3 of them every weekend during group rides. As always, I wanted something a little more unique.

My next eliminate was fit, based on research I'd done into the geometry of each bike. Based on what I had ridden and know I like in handling, I narrowed it down to the Look, Wilier and Ridley with the Giant TCR an outside possibility. Access to the Wilier was extremely limited so that took care of itself, and in the end it came down to the Look & Ridley, and a single question.

The Question
I called Will.
"Is 1 pound worth $500?"
Will: "Uhm... I don't know. Is it worth $500 to not carry a full water bottle?"
"Good point."
"Its not like we spend hours climbing mountains around here. Which one looks better?"



So, that pretty much settled it. That night I began the ordering process. It didn't take long to order the frame online. I had thought about going locally but no one had access to the Damocles. Apparently, neither did the seller from which I was buying.

Delays, Delays
Competitive Cyclist has a slick web site and simple ordering process that provides you with plenty of information about each of the frame sets they carry. I commend them for the detail to which the go in their descriptions of each frame, its intended use and level of quality. What they failed to do was indicate that the frame I was selecting was not actually readily available. The delivery date was moved back three times, and it eventually took two phone calls and two emails to straighten things out and get a frame delivered without moving the date again.

Ridley Damocles


Eventually, it turned out they had a frame in my size and color in stock, only it had been built as a Demo bike. I agreed to take the "used" frame and was offered an additional 15% discount. Honestly, its a great deal and the frame is in perfect condition.

Now I have to wait a full week (or more) for my build kit to arrive... and I still haven't picked a set of wheels. Will has a nice set of tubulars up for grabs as long as we can find a Campy compatible freehub body. In the mail I have a mixed Campy group with an Easton cockpit on order.

Part 2: Progress

Source Endurance Clinic

The first track clinic of the year was the Endurance Clinic with Stefan Rothe of Source Endurance. April 5th brought 18 riders to the Superdrome for a four hour session concerning tactics and training for endurance races at the Superdrome. Mercy teammate Mat Stephens assisted Stefan throughout the day and brought an excellent dimension to the clinic with real life examples and detailed explanations that complimented Stefan’s own accurate coaching.

After starting the day with a brief classroom session we took to the track for a long warm up. Pace lining the Superdrome with 18 people of varying skill levels is quite difficult, but the exercise taught us to pace ourselves, keep the line together and pay extra attention to those around us. From there we split the sessions into two groups to keep things more enjoyable and certainly to learn more by watching others mock race. Throughout the day I was able to gain insights regarding gear selection, proper training and goal setting for both training and racing. In particular, I learned that my impression of good track gearing was well off the mark and that I desperately need to achieve much better leg speed, or cadence, if I want to remain competitive and still have the legs to last an entire race.

To end the session Stefan and Mat took the track along with Chris and Aaron for a demonstration of The Madison. Having now seen the event for the first time in person I came away with a renewed respect for not only riders of this amazing event, but also of the tactics and exceptional timing each teammate must have to successfully compete in such an event.

All in all the Endurance Clinic provided an excellent opportunity to discuss training and racing tactics with an established track racer and professional coach. While the clinic did not reveal any dark secrets it did shed light on a number of key facets of the sport, opening my own eyes to my next set of goals while training for track racing. With several more clinics scheduled for this year, one taking place before you read this article, the opportunity to learn from true professionals should not be missed.

TXBRA Pace Bend Road Race

I awaken slowly as rays of sun pierce the tent and highlight in little rainbows on the dew that has collected on the windows. Within moments I am sitting bolt upright and wiping at the corners of my eyes to clear away the long night listening to the drunken exploits of some campers down by the shore. I clear the fog from my slept-in contacts just in time to see that I have awoken exactly one hour later than I had planned, and precisely 45 minutes before the start of my very first road race.

After a brief moment to make certain I am dressed, I emerge from the tent to find our camping spot surrounded by cars, bikes and people. People who are already awake and warming up. I am not warming up; in fact I am not warm at all. While my fiancé sleeps soundly in the tent I forage in the trunk for my gear and head for registration. A line that appears to stretch longer than my start time looms in front of me, but I wade through the crowd and find my place in line. This is no worse than when I was racing motorcycles, and at least I won’t need to go back to the pit to fire up a generator and worry about having enough time to slap on some tire warmers…

Back at the car I beg, borrow and steal enough pins to hold two (crisp) numbers to my jersey. I’ve never done this before either so I enlist a woman standing with her husband and pray she does not draw too much blood. Luckily she’s done this all too many times herself and within minutes I am identifiable as #539 and ready to ride, if only I could make a final decision about layers and what to wear in an effort to stay warm without cooking before the checkers. My phone says it is 42 degrees as I rummage for tights. They’re at home. Minutes later I have used the free t-shirt to wipe dew off my bike, consumed a pair of bananas, filled two water bottles with Accelerade laced water and am lining up on the road for my start. Seeing as how I do not know how this will work, I decide to head straight for the back.

My plan, much like any plan I have concocted before a bicycle race, is to pedal really hard and go faster than other people. I also plan to do very little work at the front and I figure the hills will do a nice job of keeping the pack together for most of the race. After the start I sit around the back trying to figure out what is happening, where the road goes and where the hills are located. I also spend a great deal of time looking at other people’s bicycles and am fascinated by the variety of frames I have never seen before. I ask them about their bikes, but this only serves to confuse some of them. Others, I am relieved to find, have a great sense of humor and don’t mind a little conversation as we ride. Later, some of my joking actually caused someone to drop his water bottle, for which I felt very guilty, but quickly decided to work into future races as part of my plan. If I can accomplish this on the first lap I may very well dehydrate the field before the finish!

The plan, as it were, works perfectly. I feel great, I am pedaling and I am still attached to the main pack. I noodle through the field and find that I am able to carry momentum up hills, work when I want to and close any gaps quickly. Then, on the biggest hill at Pace Bend and on the final lap of the race I decide to do something without consulting the amendments to the plan. Somebody jumps out like gangbusters and makes a bee line for the front, so I get on his wheel and we’re off for a really fast, unexpected break at the base of the biggest hill on the course. Again, the plan works perfectly until we get to the top of the hill. This is when I find out that my legs have not been informed that the finish is actually a little further down the road and my lungs are asking me to please stop inhaling nails. Luckily, this becomes a rather humorous event as a dozen people pass me, all probably wondering if the loud bang was my heart exploding or a concerned citizen putting me out of my misery. I watch and laugh as they pass by, reveling in my own stupidity. By the time we reach the final downhill corner I recover enough strength to sprint my way to a 10th place finish. On the cool down I converse with everyone and we all agree it was a safe and enjoyable race. What better way to finish than with a whole host of new friends? I can’t help being pleased with this result and attribute much of it to the training I’ve been doing with the FCS / Metro Volkswagen team in Irving. They were nice enough to take my money and provide me with a really cool jersey, brutal training rides and refresh my eagerness to make my legs and lungs feel like they’re filled with lava.