Archive for Bicycle Racing

That Wasn’t the Plan…

Alpenrose is the first race in the Cross Crusade cyclocross series that the promoters claim is the largest “cross” series on the planet – I have no reason to doubt that.  This would be my first time racing this venue and I was very much looking forward to it as it is generally regarded as the best cross venue in the Northwest.

My preparations were mostly the same as for any other race – it is important for me not to feel rushed, and I didn’t.  I had arrived a couple of hours early and the Mountain View Cycles team had set up a paddock along the course near the wheel pit.  Cross racing is fun in that there are many races during the day and many opportunities to cheer on friends and teammates.

I had completed my checklist in time for the scheduled recon 1 hour before my race.  I could then do 30 minutes of warm-up and get to the staging area with time to secure a reasonable starting position.

I was thinking to myself that there was an unusual amount of hard surface (black top and concrete) on this course, and was slightly concerned about the grip level.  The recon was good for exploring that a bit, and as the course was relatively clean, the grip level seemed pretty good – which is right when everything went wrong.

Approaching a stairway run-up there was some slightly damp dirt in the dismount zone just before a small curb.  Even though I was taking things slowly, I mistimed my get-off.  My left foot didn’t release exactly as I had expected (a result, I think, of being too careful) and I went straight to the ground.

I quickly popped back up to continue the lap but was unable to put much weight on my left foot.  I figured I had simply knocked the wind out of myself and possibly had a groin pull – I just needed to shake it off and do some spinning on the trainer…

Yeah, maybe not so much.  It was stiffening to the point that I couldn’t lift my leg over the seat, so I began hobbling my way back toward the Mountain View compound.  I saw Kristi Dirks and Amy Moody and they informed me that I “didn’t look so good”.  Karl Mikkelson was close by and suggested (brilliantly, as it turns out) that he should go get my car.

I was still pretty sure that it was just a strain and that if I could drive I would make my way toward Seattle (where I was planning to work Monday).  I could depress the clutch with only a small amount of pain so I hit the road.

The up-side is that I would now be able to stop at PIR and watch the final race of the Oregon SCCA Spec Miata championship which had come down to the final race between my friends Will Schrader and Joey Atterbury.  I stopped at the track and was able to get out of my cycling cloths and into something more comfortable.  My leg was feeling better.

It was feeling better until I stopped to stretch about an hour later – it still wouldn’t take much weight.  When I got to my mom and dad’s house, mom had done some research on hip injuries and I was able to see that I didn’t have all of the symptoms of a fracture.  So, I had a snack and a beer and did a little bit more research.  I really don’t like hospitals, and I certainly don’t want to be “that guy” who shows up in the ER with a stubbed toe.

I couldn’t find anything to convince me that I had a strain, sprain or anything besides a fracture, and reading between the lines it was clear that a fracture was better identified immediately.  Mom drove me to Overlake hospital to have it looked at.

It didn’t take long for the x-rays to come back and there was, indeed, a fracture.  The ER doc explained to me that this was the type of thing he wanted the orthopedic surgeon to make the call on – and that the call would very likely be to proceed with surgery tonight.

The surgeon had a very confidence inspiring way about him.  He explained what the issues were and why it was best that we not wait – there can be vascular complications with this type of injury that are best avoided.  I had never spent the night in a hospital before, or broken any bones – I need to do something about my bike handling skills….  But, first things first.

Surgery went off without a hitch, the OR staff and doctors were all awesome.  I must say that it is a surreal experience to be wheeled through an empty hospital and into and under the bright lights of an operating room late on a Sunday evening.  But ,like I said, the surgeon had left me with an excellent first impression and most importantly, my mom (an effective health care advocate) was there to handle decisions that were soon to be outside my capabilities  – here we go…

The anesthesiologist put me on a med that would put me to sleep – he said something about a “slight” burning sensation.  Thankfully, I went down quickly because that stuff burned like heck.

The next thing I knew I was awake – the surgery had taken only half an hour (which I think is a sign of no surprises) and I now had three “deck screws” holding the top of my femur together.

As I write this I sit in my hospital room all jacked-up on caffeine and Percocet (the othopedic surgury equivalent of Red Bull and Vodka) having been through one successful round of physical therapy and waiting for lunch.  If PT goes well this afternoon I may be released to the care of my saintly mother – I don’t just live my life like an irresponsible teenager, I generously share the experience with mom, as well…

I’m thankful for a lot of things right now, not the least of which is that this is the result of my stupid mistake (inattentiveness) and not somebody else’s, and also that I didn’t hurt anybody else in the process.  I’ve always found it easier to accept injuries and crashes when they are the result of my errors and when I didn’t take somebody else with me.

Thank you also to my many cycling friends and teammates for their well wishes and offers of support – I really appreciate it.  I will find a way to positively feed off of this and come back stronger than ever.  I might even be able to be Andrew’s lead out man by April.  That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it this time.

Cross Makes Us Tougher…

I don’t know exactly where this cross thing is going, but I’m pretty sure that it will change me as a bike rider.  I think if I survive it that it will be a change for the better. 

First, I would like to thank the medic in the First Aid tent – he was a really nice guy and spent all the time necessary to pick the many blackberry thorns out of my arms, legs and face.  While he was doing that I had an opportunity to explain to the audience of fascinated young onlookers how important bicycle helmets are – yes, I used up another one this day. 

The race was called the “Battle at Barlow” – Cross races have names, just like the 24 Hours of Lemons races do, that give the impression something magnificent or spectacular will occur, so they must not be missed.  Like almost all of the other races this year will be, it was a first for me.  The unique feature at Barlow is the “run-up” which is a series of maybe ten 2 foot high steps of rail road ties.  I’ll talk about the ride down into the gully that you climb up out of later. 

These guys make it look easier than it seemed at the time…

There was a smaller than usual contingent of the Mt View team at Barlow, but still a group of at least 10 riders.  I had a chance to watch the Masters C race that included teammates Tony Dirks, Eric Moody, and Gregg Leion and then to pre-ride the course (I didn’t pre-ride Double Cross #1 and it cost me – note to self…).  My pre-race preparations had gone precisely to plan – If you’ve heard one of my ridiculous lectures to driving teammates or students about planning, you know how important this is to me… 

Also, this time I didn’t let all of the line-cutters barge their way past me and I successfully secured a front row start position – SWEET!!!  That’s another item off the checklist – now I just need to ride the bike.  Easier said than done…

The first couple of laps went pretty well – I was just riding along battling with a few of my newly found 50+ nemeses and having a grand ole time…  As we worked our way into the back of the Masters B’s passing was uneventful, as most of the course was pretty wide… most. 

Battle at Barlow Photos

To climb out of a ravine, first you must ride into it.  There is a trail that runs downhill along a fence to get us there.  Near the bottom there is a barrier to force us off the bikes so we won’t try to ride down the steepest little bit and into the creek that separates the “down” part from the “up” part.  This is where I had my problem – “battle” if you prefer…

I had passed all but two of a group of 6 riders in a safe area between the start line and the beginning of the drop toward the railroad ties.  This was a trail that follows a fence line to the right and a hill on the left that is easily ride-able in many parts.  The second of the two riders passed the first and I followed (with a voice warning).  I would have preferred the uphill side but the other racer went along the fence line, so it made sense to simply do the same.  As I got to the slower rider he started moving me toward the fence, I was quickly running out of room even though I had given him the “easy” side of the trail.   I was desperately wishing I was over in that comparatively huge space to his left…

On the fast laps I was going 20 mph in this area – I was going 17 when I hit the fence.  Well, really the first thing I hit was a tall wooden pole (think telephone).  Thankfully, I was able to scrub off some speed with my head because the next thing to hit it was my previously separated shoulder, the arm that’s attached to it, my right hand, face, leg, bike, spin around 180 degrees, get the other side scraped up some, and land in a twisted, tangled mess of my bike and “Mr. Bike Skills” in the middle of the trail.  THIS IS FRIGGIN’ AWESOME!!! 

So, after I had led with my head into the pole, the blackberry bushes and chain link had grabbed my bike and a bunch of my skin before letting gravity finish me off by throwing me backward into the same fence and then to the ground.  The up-side is that none of the guys behind us ran me over.  They just yelled that we should get out of the way…  Really..?  Thanks for the tip.

I looked around and saw that the other fellow had his eyes open (WIDE OPEN) and I asked if he was okay…  I simply got a blank stare – similar, I believe, to what I would have seen just before he made contact with me.  I said “on your right” one last time, picked up my stuff and rode toward the railroad tie run-up. 

sometimes bike races are lonely...

sometimes bike races are lonely...

As I climbed the hill the spectators were screaming at me to go harder “IT’S A BIKE RACE NOT A NATURE WALK!!!”  Hey, shut the F*** up, I’m having a moment…   Apparently they hadn’t noticed that the right side of my body looked just like I’d been attacked by a pack of angry elves armed with cheese graters – well, spectators need beer too.

post crash - working back through the field

post crash - working back through the field

I just kept pedaling the bike and focused on staying upright.  As I was able to identify others in my class, I would gain motivation and make progress.  I could see the two guys that had been just behind me when I crashed and put some effort into reaching them.  With one lap to go I was close so I pushed, with success.  As we approached an open area before the long power pulls to the finish I could see another (tuned out to be a lapper) and cleared him with enough of a gap to take some care in the fast pavement sweeper leading into the finish line complex.  I had made it back to 5th – All was well. 

My crash partner was leaving the First Aid tent as I got there.  The medic was sending him to the hospital with a suspected broken collar bone.  I’m not particularly happy about that, but better him than me…  I’ll evaluate how I’ve been choosing my passing zones and maybe make some changes in the future.  I’m torn between the ideas of getting potential problems behind me as quickly as possible and being extra careful.  I’ve seen the “extra careful” thing backfire too many times. 

Hopefully, as I gain experience, the proper balance will come into focus.  On to Alpenrose and the Crusade