A couple of years ago, a big fall storm / flood destroyed several bridges on Oregon Hwys 35 and 26 making it impossible to reach the Mt. Hood Meadows Ski Area for several weeks. During the same storm, the bridge that crosses the Hood River just west of Parkdale (the middle fork, I think) was lost, as well.
In order to use the route that crosses over Vista Ridge to Red Hill Road between Lolo Pass Road and Parkdale, it is necessary to cross the river. There are no homes west of the river, so nobody knows (or cares particularly) when the road will open again. But, it is kind of a cool ride and we’ve all ridden it many times as it was previously part of the Road Race Course for the Mt. Hood Cycling Classic.
some did it the hard way
Eric Sletmoe had crossed the river recently from the Parkdale side and was able to persuade the rest of us that it would be a good route for the Saturday morning Hood River Group Ride that leaves from Ground Coffee Shop at 8am. Lara had made the portage, as well, and 8 o’clock is too early to argue about stuff like this, anyway…
The ride is pretty incredible, as it uses a lot of National Forest Service road that pretty much goes to “nowhere”. The tricky part is that around here “nowhere” is usually “up there somewhere”, so there’s going to be some climbing.
I haven’t totally figured out the NFS road labeling system, but I think it’s something like this – 2 digit numbers are paved, 4 digit numbers are spurs of 2 digit numbers and if they end with a zero, they are kind of paved. Avoid the odd numbered 4 digit variety – we did some four digits with zeros – they were just fine.
watering hole in Parkdale
In any case, we made it safely on pretty good roads, and since we crossed the river relatively early in the day the water level was pretty low. Most of us took our shoes off so that we could walk across the temporary “bridges” that had been made and our feet never even got wet.
We stopped at The Taqueria for some burritos afterward and it all made for a pretty good day.
When I am wrong I like to correct the mistake. In the story I wrote recently about my experience racing with the ICSCC (Conference) I made an error in the use of the word muu muu. I spelled it moo-moo.
I sincerely apologize to anyone (native Hawaiian speakers?) that was offended by this heinous mistake.
Also, there is some confusion regarding the meaning and origin of the word so I have included it below.
I don’t know anyone in the business that isn’t ready for this “Cash for Clunkers” thing to be over, so this is great news.
The biggest problem turned out to be that the dealers aren’t being paid – still. The program was so misjudged by the folks that conceived it that the very important promise to have dealers compensated within 10 days became impossible.
Do the math – if a dealer has sold 50 vehicles under the CARS program, at an average of about $4,200 per unit they are owed $210,00. The most I’ve had a dealer tell me they’ve had approved and paid for is 10 percent. How would your small business be doing if $190,000 of it’s working capital were suddenly missing..? This is called stimulus?
Government Healthcare is going to be awesome!!! – I’m sorry Mr. Smith, but we need these 20 forms filled out before the doctor can see you, then get in that line over there…
One example of what’s happening is that dealers are submitting the paperwork and if everything isn’t exactly in order the whole deal must be re-submitted with the issue fixed. Once that happens, the entire file goes back to the bottom of the pile where the whole thing must be reviewed again – I’m sorry Mr. Smith…
And the government meddling has caused supply issues – if this could happen with cars, what is going to happen with doctors? Go look at your local car lot…
The good news is that I’ve heard some anecdotal evidence that some buyers are people that actually had money to buy a car. They figured if the government is going to just give money away that they might as well take advantage of it. Why not own a new car that’s still worth what you paid for it when it leaves the lot?
Now we’re going to need another bailout to save the dealers that don’t survive the cash flow hit… I’m getting dizzy.
Racing has rules and that’s good. In my view the primary focus of rules should be safety and after that fun and fairness. Fun and fairness are very closely related as you really won’t have much of one without the other. But sometimes, you just need to use your head – That’s why it’s called Racing instead of Ruling.
Except for the 12 Hours of the Cascades Enduro, the last time I entered a International Conference of Sports Car Clubs race (Conference) was 1987. The reason is that they’re kind of goofy – not the people so much, I really enjoy most of them, but the club / event dynamics are just different from anything I’m used to. It often starts well, and then one of them comes along and sucks all the fun right out of it, like a chaperon at an all night party – don’t you guys have something better to do?
The beginning: When Kirk Knestis and I showed up for my first Conference race in late summer of 1984 they needed to classify our current IMSA Renault Cup car. So, we brought all of the required documentation and based upon the weight and listed horsepower it would be placed in I Production (the slowest of the slow, but it would have qualified for J Production, had it existed – it was that slow). The Tech Steward, of course, declared that a 55 horsepower 1984 Renault Alliance would be H Production (one class faster) because it was a “Pro” car. Seriously? They hadn’t even invented crack yet back then… The conversation that followed nearly got me banned for life – in hindsight, that would have been okay.
Now I know that I’m a bit tightly wound and that I’m not particularly shy about sharing my views – this can be problematic when you have a rigorously vigilant “ruling” class. But, if I’m at a Conference race it’s because I’m simply trying to have a good time. There is no pressure at one of these deals – sometimes the racing is fun and the people are mostly awesome. But, “up one class because of the IMSA sticker?”
Despite the initial experience, for a few years we would occasionally show up at a Conference race. They raced at Westwood, for example, and that was a spectacular place to be. Its fun to be able to say that we raced there, Westwood is racing history and it’s one of the neat things that have happened to me that might not have happened without Conference.
But, something weird would always happen. I’ll never forget the guy that stormed into my pit to admonish me for causing him to shunt himself at the end of the front straight at Westwood. I was driving a borrowed old formula ford and one of the self proclaimed Conference heroes misjudged his braking trying to follow me through turn one. We discussed the fact that I was indeed on the racing line and that no I hadn’t blocked him, the issue was… well, I’m not so sure what it was exactly. The advantage of learning to race in cars with tired old motors is that you get used to not using the brakes so much (in Renault Cup the middle pedal meant a quick and certain relegation to the back of the pack) – this is sometimes confusing to the other guys and they crash. So, Kirk and I patiently listened to his story about how I had caused his crash and then proceeded to laugh so hard that we nearly pissed ourselves. I am certain that one of the 135 pages of the Conference rule book addresses that, too. Chapter 8, Section D, Paragraph 2 “You have dribbled down your leg – START AT THE BACK!!!”
One night at Portland, while sleeping in our tent next to the cars (the tent met the constraints of our lodging budget), we were awakened by a noise. There was a drunk either sleeping in or trying to steel our race car – we never worked out which, for sure… I’ve been blatantly “brake checked” twice – yeah, Conference license holders… Now, I know that stuff like this happens at other places, it’s just that it usually happens to me at Conference races.
I have a lot of very good friends that race now or have a history in Conference – they are all a bit easier going than I am, but I like hanging out and racing with them anyway. One of my old racing friends, Hal Hilton, was the Chief Steward or Grand Poo-Bah (whatever they call them) recently, and Hal is an extremely smart and fair guy – maybe things have changed there, I hoped.
Because of the approaching endurance racing season and the availability of a car for me to drive, this past weekend was the best opportunity for some seat time and fun in preparation. This was a chance to pit and hang out with my friend Ted Rees, his father Phil and their families. They have a great laid back approach and fun attitude that would be nice for a change. The Miatacage.com enduro car just needed a shake down to make sure all of the systems and a few new parts were working properly. They’re not.
The car started showing signs of a possible switching / starting problem at Rose Cup – it wouldn’t start hot. We thought it was a bad connection somewhere and checked and cleaned the usual culprits. We would chase the worsening problem for the rest of the weekend and eventually get to learn about some special Conference racing rules – here we go again…
For example, while leaving the track after ITA qualifying on Saturday a Tech Steward approached the car and in a rather nasty tone asked “where are your gloves?” I showed him that I owned some as he barked back at me about leaving them on until I was back inside the paddock.
Understand, the track was in a red flag condition (closed) and I was traveling at about 5 mph. If I had stopped the car in the hot pits during the session and got out, I surely would not have put a helmet or gloves on to move it back to the paddock after the checkered flag. Isn’t there really something better to be spending our energy on? “Captain Rule Book” then rode away on his motorcycle (sans helmet) his shirt flapping around his over the shoulder walkie-talkie holster like a moo-moo worn by a Hawaiian grandmother on a breezy Maui evening. I wonder if Adolf knows that Portland is a city park and is therefore not exempt from the Oregon motorcycle helmet law..? This guy is serious Mall Cop material.
Ted, Phil, Roger (Phil’s pit lackey) and pit guru Garth “Crusher” Levin all had to listen to me go on about how it had started all over again with these “Conference guys”. I mean, it’s like they want you to fail – I imagine them in their trailers at night working out ways to “trick” the new guys. “Let’s give the 5 minute warning at 8 minutes to go – we can put it at the bottom of the supps and maybe some of them will miss it…”
Ted and I had a great time in practice and qualifying on Saturday. We drove around playing race car dodge ball with the rest of the kids. Most of the drivers are pretty attentive, but there are a handful that either don’t have mirrors on their cars or just haven’t worked out the details of how to best utilize them. Qualifying went well for me. Ted and I were first and second in ITA and I managed to out-qualify my Miatacage.com team mate / rivals Will Schrader and Gary Bockman for the provisional pole in Spec Miata.
Qualifying on Sunday was uneventful as Garth, Ken Sutherland and I spent most of the morning chasing the electrical problem. I didn’t improve my times but kept the ITA pole and was bumped to the outside of the front row for SM by Will Schrader. I was really looking forward to the race with Gary and Will, those guys are gladiators – it would be one hell of a show…
We had come up with a solution to the electrical problem. The battery was taking a charge and the car was starting afterward. We would simply keep the car on the charger until it was time to roll up and then we would go to grid, start and race. This worked well for ITA – the car started and the race was a yawner. I started on the 3rd row behind several cars in faster classes – I survived the chicane and drove away from everyone behind me – no drama. Conference allows a crew member to ride in the car on the victory lap – Garth rode with me. I suppose it’s safer to have somebody besides the driver hold the checkered flag one receives to commemorate a victory. Garth wasn’t wearing gloves (or helmet, suit, ass in seat, seat belts)… Safety first, Colonel Klink – “ATTENTION SECURITY – THERE IS A SKATEBOARDER NEAR THE ELEVATORS BY VICTORIA’S SECRET…”
Anyhow, we tried to start the car to go to grid for SM and it refused. So our impromptu plan was to roll up before the five minute warning and let the car run. There are a couple of options in SCCA to deal with a problematic starter – neither work in Conference. If you are not on grid by the 5 minute warning (8 minutes before the start of the race, as it turns out) you start at the back. AND, you cannot bump start the car on the grid – especially after the one minute warning, and double especially if you were in the process of negotiating with the officials regarding the first offense. “YOU WILL START AT THE BACK!!!” TIMES TWO!!!
I was in violation of a rule – I get that. Okay, two rules. Here’s the thing, Conference makes the outsiders run 3 digit numbers that begin with a 7. I don’t know or care why, but I do know that this makes it possible for them to easily and immediately identify non-Conference drivers. They have a rule that they very well know is in conflict with what anybody with a 700 series number on their car is used to. It’s a simple procedural violation and a matter of a steward’s discretion. If I were in charge (God forbid), I Would make a point of helping these easily identified ”customers” understand the differences in the rules rather than berate them with snarky remarks, regarding gloves for example, and race ruining penalties – but that’s just me. The amateur anthropologist in me has come up with a solution to this “Conference Problem” – try something a little bit more predictable, like vodka.
Mike Blaszczak, the steward in question regarding the grid issues, knows how I feel about this. We discussed it twice and my parting remark was essentially – I’m not coming back (it was a little bit stronger than that the second time, and I apologize if he was offended by my language). I’ll probably back off on that eventually, but not very soon unless somebody else is paying the bills.
My pit-mate for the weekend, Ted, had an interesting Sunday, as well. He had to work his way from the back of the field in the ITA race after a first lap spin and was then taken out along with Chris Heinrich (the CSM points leader) by another dive bombing Miata on the second lap of the race. Mike, the aforementioned Steward, had declared that event to be a “racing incident” as it was due to brake failure. I queried him as to whether Conference had any rules about maintaining incidental equipment (like brakes) – he said that those things are ”up to the driver”. Oki-doki.
These stiff car-prep requirements also shed light on the 5 laps it took to black flag the car with the bar-b-que in its trunk during the ITA race. The stewards were looking at the car carefully (I could see them as I motioned that maybe something might be wrong…”SHE’S ON FIRE, FRED!!!). It turns out they were working out whether it was chicken or ribs. It must have been ribs – the chicken would have taken at least 8 laps. I have no idea how these guys keep their 5’s and 8’s sorted out…
In the final analysis, I had some fun. It was great to talk to and meet a lot of the Spec Miata drivers I hadn’t seen for a while. Importantly, the car came back without a single new mark on it, I’ve got some fun video to share and I confirmed that neither Conference nor I have changed – I’ll take that deal 5,000 (8,000) times.
The thing that finally turned the weekend around for the better is when a group of workers drove by (as we were debriefing with some frosty cold beverages), to say how much they had enjoyed the DFL to 3rd drive (it was a bit more colorful than that). Those guys get drenched, frozen, sun burnt and risk their lives because they love the sport. I’ll start from the rear every time if it makes them want to come back. Other than the time John Bradshaw told me he had just watched me win the best race he’d seen in over 10 years, that’s about the best compliment a guy like me can receive.
When I was in my early 20’s I benefited from some advice that was passed to me, as it had been passed to him, by a fellow that I thought had led a pretty interesting life given his relatively young age. It was “there are two leisure classes, one at the top of the socio-economic scale and one at the bottom. Be in one of them”. My friends name was “Minki” and this is my mission.
I moved to Hood River mostly so that I could live my daily life in the same way that many wealthy working people live their vacations. Understand, I very much admire the accomplishments of those that dream up and produce the things we often take for granted. I want their holidays to be as fabulous as possible – they’ve earned it. And, they should be fresh when they return to work so they can make more neat stuff for the rest of us . When possible, I enjoy my chance join in their fun.
I fell in love with great cars the day my uncle Don showed up at our house with one of the very first Porsche 911’s – I was 5 years old. He let me drive it during my visit to Southern California to see the 1978 US Grand Prix at Long Beach when I was 17. At that time it was one of the greatest days of my life. The current Porsche Turbo (supercar) is still based on the same basic configuration.
I saw my first Ferrari Daytona(s) scattered all around the parking areas that week at Long Beach – like Priuses at a Greenpeace rally. The Daytona was the last front engine Ferrari at the beginning of the modern “supercar” era – in my view, the Daytona was a supercar. Oh, for a chance to ride in a Ferrari Daytona…
Recently I did some dent work on a very nice 1999 Mazda Miata. When I was finished the owner asked if I would be interested in having a look at some dings on his Aston Martin V8 Vantage… I’ll always have a look, especially as the V8 is considered to be the grandfather of British supercars. This is, for all practical purposes, the same car that 007 drove in the 80’s Bond film “The Living Daylights”, and clearly a very close relative of 007’s car (a DBS) in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”. I mean, Diana Rigg (the only Mrs. Bond AND Emma Peel) rode in that car – sweet…
Diana Rigg as Emma Peel
I could go on and on about Diana Rigg, as it could be argued that 60’s spy film actresses are the genesis of what we now refer to as a “supermodel” – alluring, self reliant, a little bit vulnerable, and with a sting in the tail (so to speak). Staying with the “super” theme – she set the standard.
Anyway, It was an interesting experience working on the Vantage because it is hand fabricated from “aluminium”, done in the old style of coach building (heat and english wheel). The thickness and strength of the panels
Aston Martin V8 Vantage
varies throughout the vehicle (even adjacent areas of the same part). We had some success (the owner helped with dismantling trim, etc.), and I got to spend some time learning (stumbling about ) an interesting piece of automotive history.
So now about Tuesday and the inspiration for this story. I was working at the Pro Drive racing school and one of my two students had brought his new Ferrari 430 Scuderia. Normally, I prefer students with more “regular” cars. The problem is that highly strung, big horsepower machines are difficult to drive well – and I, despite my time spent as a Pro-Rally co-driver, sometimes get car sick. But, I was feeling pretty good and I thought this would be a good tune-up in preparation for the upcoming race weekend – get me “in the game”, so to speak. And, how often do you see one the truly great modern supercars? I should probably ride around in it for a while…
The driver, Rich, was a serious student, which is a dream come true for an in-car instructor at a high performance driving school.
Scuderia in PIR Hot Pits
What I mean is that he came with the intent of leaving with something and had decided the way to do that was to listen and do (not as common as you would think). Listen and do is what a Rally driver does – pace notes are delivered and regardless of what the “common sense’ side of the brain tells him, he does what he is told. This is how to go fast.
And things happen pretty darn fast in the Scuderia (0-60 in 3.1 seconds, as a reference point) – it’s easy to not get it right. Now, everybody doesn’t teach the same way and I’ve been having a discussion about this with one of my co-driver / instructor friends. The short version is that I like to pick only two major things to concentrate on for each session. Some instructors want to make sure that every corner is negotiated “on-line” from the start, for example. I like simple, achievable, objective targets.
Positive input is the key to success – don’t tell me what not to do, tell me what to do. This is why the “listen and do” bit is so important – it’s simple. Invariably, if I feed information (as pace notes) to a student and they simply do what I ask, the car stays on line, the driver gains confidence, the throttle pedal goes down earlier, stays on longer and we go fast. Of course, faster cars require more precisely delivered information, which is why I usually prefer students in the Subaru’s and Toyota’s…
Tuesday was a great day because I had two willing students that each got into a rhythm and allowed me to help them learn to go fast. I love that. In particular, the sounds coming from that Ferrari were fabulous.
By the end of the day I was hearing the popping (a la F1) sound during the 60 millisecond downshifts and whooping from Rich as he pinned the throttle on the blind curved “back straight” for the first time!!! What a fun day.
In line with the advice I had received 25 years ago, I have once again successfully experienced that which is usually reserved for a privileged few. Minki was right – a poor boy can have the good things in life.
Joey Atterbury - still cooler than all the fixie pilots
I had a conversation with my friend Joey, (a very fast, young, hipster, VW Jetta Cup driver) at the race track Saturday, about bicycles – he was sitting on his retro beach cruiser / pit bike while giving me the business about riding a real bike. Whatever.
He wants a fixie – while he is cooler than roughly 100 percent of the guys I’ve met that do ride them, I told him that I still hadn’t seen the guy that is genuinely cool enough to do so…
The thing is (using simple observation as our guide) that it’s just too tough to ride a fixie without looking like a complete tool. Not only do you need just the right amount of “hip” you need the right kind. Here’s an analogy – Wayne Newton. Wayne Newton is the only guy that doesn’t look like an idiot when singing Danke Shoene – fixies are the Danke Shoene of bicycles.
This video pretty well encapsulates that discussion…
Late Thursday afternoon, shortly after arriving in Bend, the team I was guest riding with received a phone call informing them that one of their riding friends, Daryl Benefiel, had been killed by a car while doing hill repeats on Newport Coast in Orange County. Daryl was one of the good guys. RIP, Papa John’s.
Some don’t see us, some don’t care. Be vigilant.
Well, from a racing standpoint, this was also a pretty tough weekend. I knew ahead of time that it was going to be hard, but some things changed after I had entered to complicate things a bit.
The original (sensible) plan was to race with my brother-in-law, Joe Kolling, and his Cycles Veloce / Simple Green team mates in the mixed Cat 3 /4 field. I now ride (and race) with all of these guys 30 – 40 days each winter. I was really looking forward to riding with them near home, for a change. Joe and I are both 4’s and Steve Bernede and Russ Shapley are both 3’s – so we could race as a team. It was a great idea until the organizers of the race decided that they would split our race into separate Cat 3 and Cat 4 fields. We were also joined by a friend of a friend, Steve Pascoe. Since we already had a Steve, we called him Arkansas – because that’s where he’s from… Could have been worse, I reckon – he could have been from Sioux Falls.
Against my better judgement, Joe talked me into calling Chad Sperry, the Race Director, to have him switch us all to the Masters 35+ / 45+ field so that we could “race” together. Chad told me the split had been made partly because the Cat 3 guys didn’t want to race with those crappy Cat 4 guys. Just an observation, having now been briefly to the other side – most of you Cat 3 guys ain’t shit… The rest of you need to move on.
As bike racing is a long term project for me – it’s all about lots of miles and experience at this point. So, I had to look at the less than ideal situation I was facing and treat it as one of those experiences – one that would make me stronger on another day sometime in the future… Some guys are still very, very fast as they get “old”, but I’m still mostly just old. My job was first to finish, and second to see how small an amount of time I could loose. …this is going to suck.
The Race:
The first stage was a 71 mile road race that started with a potentially problematic 3 mile climb and ended with roughly 25 miles of climbs connected by shallow grades and finishing at Mt. Bachelor Ski Area. I came off when the final climbing started – and when I say “came off” I mean that I freaking blew up!!! I made it, though, and afterward experienced my first ice bath. You really should try the ice bath – pain has a whole new meaning for me now. If it had been government sponsored it would be classified as torture and there would be Senate Hearings, and everybody could point fingers. Heads would roll, sort of… Bike racing as we know it would end.
Anyway, I survived the time trial by riding very slowly while not thinking too much about that afternoon’s criterium. Afterward, instead of an ice bath (which I believe helped, by the way), we drove the Stage 4 (Sunday) circuit race course. Well, at least the severity of the course would take my mind off of the criterium. …this is going to suck.
We were informed before the criterium started that there was a problem with scoring, and that to keep things fair to the GC contenders the crit would not count. Really? It didn’t make any difference to me, but for God’s sake, we came to race. Well, it turned out that nobody was dissuaded too much. The speed of the race (until my brilliantly timed attacked off the back) never fell below a 30 mph average… That’s just a wee bit too quick for me – wish I was racing with the 3’s… But hey, I’ve still got all my skin. I hate crits.
The circuit race had the potential to be absolutely brutal – rolling with some short power climbs. It is an attacking course, and it would start early. I figured that there would be a fair number of retirements and that if I could finish (not a slam dunk at this point), I would move up in the GC. My plan was to ride with the peloton until the pace required more than 30 seconds effort above my lactic threshold (about 20 minutes it turns out), at which time I would try to find a group to finish the race with.
I came off at the end of the sustained climb that contained the feed zone – attack!!! Yup, 10 miles into a 67 mile race and I was going solo. As it happened, however, I wasn’t the first guy out, and the group was shattering in front of me, as well. I quickly became one of a dozen riders that was moving along quite nicely.
There were six ahead of us which added some motivation to include them in our fun. As we gathered them up, I saw Arkansas. We had made an agreement to have our own little group ride when the inevitable happened – I thanked him for waiting for me.
Then I noticed Steve and Joe – this wasn’t a group ride anymore, it was a team ride… Surely, we could have some fun with 4 guys in a group of 20.
I knew that Steve and Joe would attack on the final very steep (16-20 percent) climb about 5 K from the finish – that’s just the way they are. Joe, however, had been hit by a car while riding near home a few weeks ago and his knee had been giving him some grief. That all came to a head when it was time to go – he had only one leg to work with. Steve, as predicted, jumped off the front followed by two others. I chased, and the four of us blasted into the rollers that preceded the run to the finish. We were joined by three others as the final attacks started.
Steve was first to finish, beating two others in a final sprint. A few seconds back, I was out sprinted by one of the three I had lead to the line. I had finished, though, which I wasn’t sure would be possible as the day started.
I’ll go back to where I belong (with the Cat 4’s) and continue to work toward a triumphant return – imagine a PT boat leaving Corregidor with a bicycle strapped to the bow…
