it was a beautiful weekend, so much to gab on about … so, i’ll excuse myself from the conference call and saddle up for a shot at the land speed-scribble record.
and awaaaay we go~
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The top story has to be Redlands. I’ve not read Ried’s article on it yet, so i’m fascinated to think on how that last day went down on the physics and brass tacks sides of things. But Wrubleski taking the race by swinging fastest in the bonussprints? … let me just say that if a rider can take a grueling sufferfest like Redlands on time prizes, and against a team like High Road …
that rider is one you want on your squad.
what a coup by Webcor … what a piercing cry to the world of cycling that this team is still on top of the game, still the stage racing team of America.
… but must squeak through the needle the huge performance put in by the Aaron’s squad and their mightyhunter KatCarroll. Carroll has a bit of hawkeye in her, you know? The still features, the dark eyes … a pedaling bird of prey. She is the kind of rider that makes you want to watch bike racing.
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Crits are for kids …
At the Martinez Criteriums ~ The RockR’s put 2 in the break of 5 to seal off the prosey race and book-end a nice west coast weekend of racing for the runway models. Looks as though they pumped a nice 1-3 oil-town prize split. SteveReaney was almost able to beat the sprinters … it’s a good finish for him, a longlong slightly uphill drag where all the horsemeat is unleashed, and able to pull kinetics from the potential.
I’m sure that race was a burner, it’s a course where the strong can shine pretty damn bright.
Santa Cruz was won by the Zwissa on the men’s side, and some mystery AltoVelo rider that we couldn’t recognize for la’Femmes. Sabine and i were at the bottom of the course and saw the AV rider pushing very, very well on the pedals in the final moments of solo victory. PROMAN’s VPerkins flatted with 2 to go, putting a deep stab of frustration through her shoulders, i’m sure. PROMAN had Metzger and LaLaLloyd covering the field pretty well and Perkins looked poised to strike at any time … but when the big finisher’s tire went flat, the game became wide-open and the AV rider was smooth and strong in those final minutes to hold off the chasing field and win it well.
I, on the otherhand, had nothing but poo coming out of my ears on Sunday.
The geezers race was full-guns and i put in one hail-mary sufferfest of a move to try and get up, or bring back the beauty move of Hutchinson, Roberston, and what look to be Roemer (and eventually Nolan).
Nolan was the last to bridge across and you can see his cool-factor jumping to 12 as he pumps the air in congrats to his teammate’s win. What a race, what a race. But, i was relegated to slobering-side-show-Bob for this event.
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That wee barbarian Shelley Olds says i’m overtrained, but she says that about half the peleton ~ so, it’s probably only part-true. I mean, sometimes you’ve just got to dig the grave deep ~ as a reminder … and because it’s f’all fun. It started with getting entirely too lustful last week with intervals. It probably had something to do with the lady being in her womanly-seclusion for 4-7 days, if you know what i mean. That time of the month always sends my hormone factors nutzo and i start rubbing against things like a freshly-whiskered cat.
so, i took it to the saddle, i guess.
Topping off last week was the Swanton Time Trial that DavideGill and the SantaCruzCycling fabulosos put on a Thursday a month when season’s lighting is available. The course is beautiful and demanding ~ letting you work on any aspect of clock-racing you’d like … long windy-flat drags, leg-breaking rollers, a mile+ climb … all packed into a half-hour. And usually timed so you can get some miles in before and after. Loverly.
but you’d think Gill would at least get my team name right.
BUT SATURDAY, me and the girl were freed up and let loose upon each other and the UC/Wilder super-trails. We went out and bang’d it for a few hours, jumping and hucking it up like good adolescents in heat should. Unfortunately, late in the game, we found ourselves chancing into a meet with MarkFitzimmons and his NewZealand Yeti-FOX downhillers.
I was following Sabine and her bigdaddyDawg … a superplush KONA basher bike with all the bells and whistles of a fine, big hit go-machine. It weighs 30lbs, but it screams downhill if you’ve the kettles boiling for such speeds. Uphill, however, takes a bit more pedalpushing and normally, on a tight difficult uphill techy section, Sabine will dismount and run her bike up and over such obstacles like any good cyclocross trained-hound would.
But, Fitzimmons and the Zealanders were tossing around behind us like a howling pack of lost boys, and i think she got all piss’n vinegar on me. I was doing my usual day-dream appreciation behind her, not really paying too much attention to the single-track and just tip-toeing after her lines all duckling-like. I love trailing Sabine as she whips and navigates through the forests of the sCruz ~ it’s our time.
But this time she hucked it up a tricky little rooty-bit and i flat-out was caught contemplating my belly-button. Like i said, most instances like this and she’d give out some recognizable body english or hoot of oompf if a section will kick up on the challenge meter ~ but, this time she was all quiet and assertive … like how a dog gets right before it really does bite … and she threw herself up and over that stairstep of root and dirt without any discomfort or sign of stress at all.
and it fooled me.
i was caught low and fast into a section i needed to be high and bouncy. I pulled my front wheel up and over lickety-split … the front’s always easier for me … but then my rear wasn’t quite quick enough and i had to do a bit of heel-instigated bike-levitation, swinging my wheel up and over, but not able to move myself out of the way as the saddle whipped up and speared me straight and proper.
The point of that fizik buried itself right in the sweet spot of my hamstring, like a perfectly placed hunter’s maiming tip. le ouch.
doh! There goes the hamstring knotting up. zap! how about that sciatica! whammy! you got girl’d again, boy-0!
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anyway, we finished the ride and put some decadent food stuffs into our bellies and by the time we found home ~ the right side of my body started pulling my left side over for a conversation about how bad it felt and how mad it was at me for acting the fool again.
but you can’t let those things get the better of you, eh? ‘cuz the dirt riding got the girl all zoned and grooving for a session of rewards that night and that is definitely worth any risk of injury. I mean, you youngsters won’t really understand what it’s like to be draped and happy, only able to muster a faint ‘high-five’ of accomplishment before collapsing back in bliss.
trust me, it takes a few years of makin’ it over logs … and crashing into them, to find those types of moments.
oh and how we crash.
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