First, I think that Ferrari road cars are generally the most beautiful and well engineered pieces of machinery to grace the planet (period).
And, when I was young and until I learned to know better, I was a huge fan of Scuderia Ferrari (the racing team). Nike Lauda and Clay Regazzoni were the drivers then and would be two of my favorite racing drivers for the rest of their careers (specifically because they had been with Ferrari).
Villeneuve having led his first lap of an F1 race
When I attended my first Grand Prix and saw my all time favorite racing driver, Gilles Villeneuve, take the lead of an F1 race for the first time, I was in the Ferrari grand stand at Long Beach.
Strangely, that would also be the location of the crash that would end Regazzoni’s career (two years later), and Villeneuve would also crash out of the lead of that 1978 race while lapping Regazzoni (I was always slightly irritated with Regazzoni about that…).
The real reasons that I am no longer a Ferrari “fan” are kind of beside the point here, however. Sitting in the grandstands near a sea of red and the ever present waving prancing horse flags (God help you if your seat is behind them), while the Ferrari cap wearing hordes clap politely (as if observing a putt for birdie at the British Open) does make me feel terribly embarrassed for them – okay, stupid. Hint – sit with the Dutch or Welsh F1 fans, they’re a bunch more fun… But, this is about a specific example:
the perfect compliment to a Ferrari Polo shirt - 34.5 lbs for $2,700
Today I came across this and nearly lost it… – Ferrari Bike Technical Specs. They claim to sell out of these painfully overweight, $2,700 bicycles. They claim to sell over 2,000 of them!!! Who, but a lunatic Ferrari F1 fan would pay that for this kind of POS??? And then, what word would best describe the new owner..?
Here’s the deal – if you’re some kind of euro-poseur wanna-be and must have a cool Italian bike, go pick yourself up a DeRosa or Colnago (for example). Guido (who proudly pedals his ass around on a Colnago), doesn’t try to buy a Colnago car (even if Fiat did a spectacular job with the paint). So, stop being a bunch of dorks – do it for Gilles.
But, hey, you say, it’s got (from the advert) “Pure Leather PEDALS” – well that changes everything…
Proof, again, that Ferrari fans are stupid. Don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger.
I’ve described the 24 Hours of LeMonsas a Halloween Party with cars, and Chump Carwill soon take this description to its natural conclusion with a “race” at Portland International Raceway Oct 31 – Nov 1, 2009.
Background: LeMons has been around since 2006 and is immensely popular in the car guy community. My understanding has been that “LeMons” events have been in such high demand that there just hasn’t been room on the schedule for a Northwest race. And, it seems that maybe we’re not the only place being left off of the schedule.
So, Chump Car is born. The biggest difference I can see, at this point, is that it seems speeds are going to be higher in a Chump Car race (but not too high) – so, kind of like a Conferenceevent. I think they get away with calling it a race because they will be using transponders, and if they wanted to use that information for scoring, they could…
potentially fast car with shark theme - will the judges fall for this old trick?
There is a difference between an “activity” and a “race”, and it is important to understand what those differences might be. If Lemons and Chump Car were really races, then the primary purpose would be to have a race – but, that’s not the primary purpose and everybody knows it.
There is no reason to believe that this isn’t simply going to be a Halloween party with cars. Before the race even starts cars will be credited or penalized laps based on important “racing criteria” like team theme and costumes, and the amount of school supplies donated to a particular charity. The information gathered by the transponders can be “corrected” at any time and for any reason – again, just like Conference.
The promoters are very up front about the fact that they may, again, at any time, for any reason, mess with your “race car” just because they would enjoy it.
transformation from "red meat" to harmless bird
So, the Miatacage.com race team is in possession of the 2007 Thunderhill LeMons winning car. The then recently acquired, totaled (complete, save the broken cam shaft) and purchased for $200, 1999 Mazda Protégé, was then known as Team Red Meat and Poontang – it was really cool when the track announcer said the team name on the loud speaker (once).
consensus is that we'd all still date her
For Chump Car, the team has gone with a Partridge Family theme – something about 6 dates in 24 hours with Laurie (who didn’t have a crush on Susan Dey in 1973..?). We’re all pretty excited about this.
The driving line-up for this grand adventure is made up of crew members of the nearly successful, go-til-ya-blow, 2008 25 Hours of Thunderhill Miatacage.com team. The Miatacage.com “over the wall-stars” are Brian Clemons, Ed Pavone, Dave Sutherland, Kevin Clark, Garth (Crusher) Levin and Jeff Jenks. They didn’t spill any fuel or make other mistakes at the 25 – lets see if they can keep the fenders on the Partridge Bus…
I’m not going to be of much use (unless there is a mid-event break for a walker race), so I’ll probably just hang out in the motor coach and watch the silliness (read: experiment with new cocktail recipes). I love seeing people drive on the race track (in anger) for the first time, and there is going to be a lot of that going on. I’ll be there just to see the looks on my friends faces both before and after their big racing debuts – I can’t wait.
I’ve been meaning to write something about this video for some time – just because I think it’s so outrageously cool that I want people to see it. I thought about it again last Saturday morning when I received a message from my buddy Russ that he was on his way to “Cars and Coffee” in a Ferrari 275 GTB – Russ knows that I like old Ferraris and that I think the 275 GTB is one of the prettiest cars ever built.
Ferrari 275 GTB
The story behind this short film is that French director Claude Lelouch filmed the early morning run through Paris and that the car used was a 275 GTB driven by an un-named Formula One driver.
Lelouch later claimed that a large Mercedes carried the camera and that the sound of the Ferrari was dubbed over – I am somewhat skeptical, but I suppose an Oscar winning director should be able to accomplish a task like that. I thought Star Wars was cool when I saw it, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t real… In any case, the film and sound are amazing.
The Route
The route that Lelouch chose also passes by and through many famous Parisian landmarks, including the finish line of The Tour de France (so there’s a bicycle racing connection), and places where my sister worked and lived in the time she spent there (so there’s a family connection). The speed of the “Mercedes” has been calculated (and independently agreed upon) to have been 190 – 200 kph on the Champs-Élysées – and that will get you to church on time…
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.
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.
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...
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
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…
Cyclocross has been a big deal to some of the guys I ride with in Hood River for a long time. I’ve never completely figured it out, because sometimes it looks like it’s just a way for hopelessly insufferable, wannabe bikey hipsters from Portland to endear themselves to the cycling community… Thankfully, that’s mostly untrue – many of the guys (and girls) are bad fast and it has always looked like everybody has loads of fun. So, for years it seems, I would plan to acquire a bike – nothing fancy, just something that would work better than a mountain bike or converted road beater.
In "cross" time is spent carrying the bike and tripping over obstacles
Last year, I finally pulled the trigger – which means that I had a bike by the time the season was about half over. This is a “cross” tradition born either from the reality that bike shops don’t want to stock a bunch of “weird” bike stuff that will be useless by the time Christmas rolls around (and until September of the next year), or a massive conspiracy to prove “you’re not cool enough”. Your bike will be here next week, er September, I mean mid October…
Anyway, the bike showed up and I figured that since the guys I ride on the road with are racing in the Masters B category (the equivalent of Cat 3 on the road), that I should do the same. WRONG. First, if you start at the back (there is another conspiracy to guarantee this), you will likely stay there. The courses can be quite technical which is problematic for a guy that doesn’t spend much time on a mountain bike anymore – that means passing is hard. I struggled to get into the middle third of the pack. I sucked.
It seems there were always 100 guys in the races. And, the line-up is done by lottery based on the last digit of your race number – my number was never in the top half of the guys that started at the back half of the race. I have come to believe that this is because I was new and cyclocross has another special math based conspiracy to determine these things. I was definitely going to need a new plan for this year.
Each cross event has about 90 different races split up by different combinations of age, experience and sex (there are no fewer than three of those, as near as I can tell). There is always somebody (something) to race with and I would like to do well, but I really don’t want to be a sandbagger (those that race a category easier so they can win the beer prizes which are based on more “randomly” generated combinations of numbers).
This year, even though I’m 49, I can race as a 50 year old (another tricky numbers thing – but it says so on my racing license). They have a geezer class in cross that starts at 50. Surely, there would be fewer age 50 plus riders, so starting at the back wouldn’t be as far back, and since its age based – no sandbagging… The only problem is that, like road racing, there exists the possibility of x-pros in the field (or guys that are just plain fast). But hey, if I can be the “new kid”, I’m going to check it out – and how many fast guys that age could there be, anyway..?
"Team Dirks" debrief
Double Cross in Hood River is when the Mountain View team starts it’s cross season. Pretty much everybody gets involved, including the kids which is super fun. This would be my first time doing these races, which is hard to believe given how long I’ve been riding bicycles. Day one would be at the High School and day two would be at the Hood River County Fairgrounds in Odell.
“Masters 50” races along with “Masters B” (age 35+, where I raced last year), so comparisons between the two would be easy and I would still kind of get to race with my buddies. We started one minute behind the B’s (about 35 of them, 25 of us) and it was clear while waiting for the start that a few of the old guys were going to make it through a lot of the B field. The High School course is kind of wide and / or grassy in a lot of places, so passing wouldn’t be a huge issue and the start was easier than I expected.
I settled into a top 10 position early and just rode my heart rate for the first couple of laps. Now, I have issues running in the red zone – I don’t like it. It’s probably that I’m lazy – I just don’t have a very high “suffering index”. In cross, however, red zone is what it’s all about – go till you blow. I ended up in a race with two other guys (two of us chasing the other with a gap that varied between about 1 and 10 seconds).
I had backed off a bit with 3 laps to go with the idea that I could deliver a big, demoralizing and crushing blow to the others at the beginning of the last lap. My heart rate was low in zone 5 and if the other guys were redlined (like I expected they were), I would win the mini “race within a race”. As we crossed start / finish at the beginning of the last lap, the scorer shouted out “you’re done” – WTF? I had made a stupid rookie mistake and didn’t see that the lap board had gone from 2 to zero as we approached the line – the guy that had been following me for two laps did see it and put a wheel on me at the finish. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t make that kind of mistake – well, except this time… F*** me. I was ninth.
racing round the rabbit barn
I figured the Fairgrounds course wouldn’t suit me because it was less technical. As it turns out, even though my bike handling skills are in the toilet lately, I am blessed with good line selection capabilities so that even when my bike doesn’t go exactly where I wanted it to it is still close to being “on line”. Being on line makes it possible to start pedaling earlier when exiting corners (the same principal that applies to cars) – this is important on a “non-technical” course like Sunday’s because it had lots of “easy” turns.
As we were staging for the race there was a line of guys in the front row and I parked my bike behind them. Minutes passed and occasionally somebody would push through to the front – a couple of guys simply went around and backed into the front of the line-up. I thought these guys are being awfully aggressive for a bunch of old f***ers – some of them are going to beat me, but not all of them. There is something about the protocol that I don’t get.
Then as we rolled up to stage I found myself in the back row – I’m really not very good at this. Several of the guys were suggesting that we take it easy until we get to the grass – we’re all here “to have fun” I think is how it goes… I had already made one rookie mistake this weekend so screw that. Besides, I think it would be more “fun” to be nearer the pointy end. The way I see it these guys had started racing when they forced their way to the front – once we “switch on”, it’s on…
I was able to make it around most of the line barging hipsters by the end of the long start straight and a few more as we went through the first barriers. When things settled down I was in the top 10 which I was comfortable with. My decent late corner acceleration was making it possible for me to stay close to the fast guys at the start of the race. I was worried that my legs would be tired from Saturday’s 45 minute effort in the red zone, but I felt better than expected. I don’t think cross’ effect on the body is as much like road racing’s non-stop prolonged efforts as I expected it would be. But still, I need to do a lot of work before I can stay with those top 4 or 5 guys.
Eric Moody (E2) blasting up the inside
Like Saturday, I had a really fun race with a few other guys on Sunday. There were always three of us within a few seconds. Mid-way through the race I felt the rear tire briefly roll off the rim (I’m still riding clinchers which do that at the lower pressures used in cross). I was convinced I wouldn’t make it to the end of the race as it felt like the tire was going flat. I checked it a couple of times and it seemed that it hadn’t lost all of its air so I was able to ride carefully to a sixth place finish. At the finish line it was totally flat – better lucky than good.
Cross is fun and it has been good for my fitness – its forcing me to run in the red zone for prolonged periods which is exactly the kind of training I’ve been missing (that laziness thing again). I’ve also successfully kept the bike from hitting the ground after loosing traction several times which is good for my bike handling confidence. Afterward everybody gets beer and French fries. How cool is that?
This cross thing is growing on me.
p.s. Cross races are also fun to watch on fall weekends – that’s how I originally got suckered in. In Portland, Cross Crusadeis the big deal.
Yesterday I was at a Toyota dealership doing some work and I heard a noise that sounded something like somebody trying to set the advance timing on a Club Spec Miata. Well, it wasn’t a Miata but a Nissan pickup truck that had been traded as a “clunker”. 20 seconds later it sounded like one of the pistons had become detached from a connecting rod. Then, mercifully, it stopped.
This is what happens when the Feds finally get around to paying a dealer for a “cash for clunkers” transaction. I think the substance that went into the crank case shortly before the Nissan’s demise is called sodium silicate – its use was prescribed in the 100 plus page description of how the program would work (or not, in some cases). I believe we are about 20 days removed from the end of the program and there are more vehicles waiting for destruction after this one… 10 days, my ass.
Anyway, when the automotive equivalent of Jack Kevorkian showed up with a second Nissan (a Pathfinder) I took out my phone to make a little video.
I think that this has some potential as a 24 Hours of Lemons “penalty”…
The situation with Conference has been resolved after a long conversation with the ICSCC License Director.
My first impression regarding the License Director was absolutely correct – he’s a good guy and I suspect that he is very highly respected amongst his racing peers. He has a tough job, and we simply have a disagreement about how far is too far – we’ve both agreed to accept that.
He sincerely wants people that love the sport to participate (and does a lot of work to help them) and I think that’s pretty cool.
This is brilliant, and I’m sure that somebody will be fined for having done it… I mean it has personal attacks (on a helpless gopher), Nazis and it suggests that the most popular motorsport in the U.S. is….. boring!!!
Note: Before I was “un-banned” I wrote a post that, while it included an important part of the story, was unusually sarcastic (I must have been in a grumpy mood when I wrote it…). As I believe that this post contributed to the eventual resolution, I wanted to republish it in a more appropriate version – basically, I just took some stuff out.
I’ve had time now to edit it in a way that still maintains the original meaning without being unnecessarily demeaning… This is the edited version.
Conference Takes a Mulligan
I finally received an email late this afternoon. The gist is that now I have been fined per a different “Conference Regulation”. I suppose the up-side is that I am no longer “banned”.
Here is the content of that email:
After consulting with the parties articulated below, as of September 7, 2009 you have been fined for unsportsmanlike conduct per C/R 609. This is the extent of your penalty. You are welcome to appeal according to the procedure outlined in the Competition Regulations, but be advised that the while the fine is outstanding, you are automatically disqualified from participating in all Conference races and events. You will also be receiving, or have already received this info in writing in the mail.
So, after deducing that my challenge of their use of “E 404” (the rule that grants the License Director ultimate authority) to require an apology was indeed well founded, they have switched to a fine based on C/R 609. Well, at least we can agree about something…
Still, these guys can’t even be bothered to read their own rules. According to C/R 102 the Competition Regulations (C/R’s) “apply to every ICSCC sanctioned event.” The issue we’re discussing didn’t happen at an ICSCC event – as previously documented, it happened on this blog.
