Cyclocross Channel - YouTube | (and Versus!?)

European CX on EweToob
There are some excellent, recent, European CX videos posted on the Cyclocross Channel. The most you're going to see is the last lap or two, but with recent mudbath weather in Belgium it's worth the 8 to 15 minutes of watching the best in the world slipping and sliding.

Nys & Albert, Jaarmarktcross
(photo courtesy Sporza)

With Sven Nys now coming into form, the younger Neils Albert fighting to understand how this older Nys guy keeps fighting back year after year, Zdenek Stybar's domination of the early rounds now curtailed by a back problem, the ever-present Vantornout/Vanthourenout confusion of bodies, the steady drumbeat of Kevin Pauwels, and Bart Wellens always clawing his way into contention just when you think he's had enough--it's quite the drama.

Nys, Jaarmarktcross
(photo courtesy Sporza)

And we can never forget the Americans: Jonathan Page mixing it up with the best and often slotting into the top twenty or better, and occasional incursions by Jeremy Powers and Tim Johnson (see Aigle).

Pauwels, Jaarmarktcross
(photo courtesy Sporza)

The women's races are just as energized with the steady tussling among the top riders. Katie Compton, when the muscles are working and the injuries are at bay, is a domineering powerhouse, as are Daphny Van Den Brand, Katerina Nash, Hanka Kupfernagle, and--one of my favorites--Helen Wyman, to name a few. Videos of the women's races are harder to come by, unfortunately, but that's certainly not due to their lack of excitement. These are races well worth showing to those of us who look for great racing and a strong fighting spirit.

Nys (hauling through the mud), Jaarmarktcross
(photo courtesy Sporza)

The production value of these Sporza broadcasts is excellent and one of these days it would be nice to get the whole race from beginning to end without a lot of hassle. It's the drama of seeing every lap unfold, the attacks and the tactics, the effects of weather on the course and on the racers (and the joy of deteriorating conditions--my own evil thrill), that makes these races so entertaining and engaging.

Until then:
Cyclocross Channel on YouTube

Albert, Jaarmarktcross
(photo courtesy Sporza)

For some recent mucky fun:
Superprestige Hamme-Zogge
SuperTrophy Ronse
Don't miss the tumble by Neils Albert after the 11:00 minute mark and enjoy the steady thrum-thrum-thrum of Nys's amazing form, pedal stroke after pedal stroke.
Jaarmarktcross Niel
The ultimate mudbath.

Flemish Language Quiz (as heard through English language ears)
Define:
Clambake (or Clambitch) _________________
Montreal Post ___________________

One of these days, we may get race coverage and production quality in the States and Canada that matches that of European coverage. The CX racers here deserve that high quality. Until then, these videos show how well it can be done.

And, finally, go here: Cyclocross on Versus, find the ballot for supporting CX on Versus, and VOTE! We might just get our wish.

Cyclomudbath Niel, Belgium

Laatste ronde van de veldrit in Niel

For anyone who whines about weather or race conditions here in SE Michigan, check out this series of short videos of the CX race in Niel, Belgium on November 11th.

This will keep things in perspective for you. You have to figure that there were a lot of bodies face down in the mud. Repeatedly.

Cyclocross Stony Creek 2010

It took me a while. I'm a little slow. In all kinds of ways.

My riding life is great. I do all kinds of things: mountain bike, road ride, dirt road ride, race mtb's, and race cyclocross, race dirt roads, do leisurely rides. This year I didn't race road, though I trained a bit at Runway, the AAVC Tuesday evening leg tester. Road races just didn't fit into the schedule, though they will off and on in the future.

Todd and Andy
(I like both kits. The colors are so well done. Plus, the sponsors are ice cream and coffee. No wonder they're racing together.)

I've occasionally found that some road racers cast aspersions on mountain bikers (though they'll do something like race Iceman or Ore-to-Shore), some mountain bikers do the same to road racers, and cyclocross racers are such a mix and their brains are so oxygen depleted that they don't do much more than stare into space with goofy looks on their faces. I love all kinds of racing, though I'm sure lack of air to the brain cells is partially responsible for my take on things. There's no reason to rank one type of riding over or under another. They're all interesting and fun.

Rodger, flying...as usual.

In the past I raced hard all year. These days I'm mellowing out a bit. A race here, a race there and just a lot of riding in between. It feels good, I have a smile on my face as long as the rides happen, and I make sure that smile returns on a near daily basis.

I did find, however, that humility comes with a lifestyle that involves a lessened emphasis on intensity. I've been dropped at DirtHammer! rides that I once stormed over. I don't place in the top five in races anymore, or even top ten. I'm lucky sometimes to hit top twenty. Humility is a painful lesson, though intense training is painful as well, so I guess we just choose our pain.

In this post-podium driven lifestyle, however, I've found something else. I've found that riding as a mid-packer has its advantages. I've been able to race without those endless hours of worrying about my VO2 max, lactic buildup, or whether I should be hammering on a day (or many days) when I know that to be truly competitive I need to do just that. I can "train" in my own unorthodox way. I can have fun without guilt.

Lillian

This past Sunday at the Stony Creek CX race I found that fun in the B race. I've never raced as a B, a Killer B as they're known. I started CX after I turned 45 and always rode in the Masters category. With my yearlong training and racing schedule I did well. I rode like a maniac from April right into the fall and it paid off. I think the quality of the Masters racers has improved since I started, though some, like Joe and Keith and Ken, have always been there and always been good. Those who strive to be the best, who train with high achievement in mind, keep racing at a high level.

That means that these days I'm left behind after the first hundred yards and there's no way my less race-worthy legs will ever catch up. And the Masters category tends to have, on the whole, either fast guys or guys like me who get left riding the course in our own solo race, without much in between. And there aren't that many of us to begin with. With 8 or 12 racers total, it gets awfully quiet out there awfully fast.

This is the B race. Packing them in at the barriers.
(photo: Andrea Tucker)

I don't race to circle the course alone. It's the competition that keeps me driving harder, that puts the spark back into racing. It took me a while, but after looking at the times from previous races I realized that my times on a 45 minute course fit snugly in the upper middle of the B race standings. And the B's regularly have over 30 entries per race. It's a big, diverse group. Eureka! That meant that there would be people around me to race with.

I tested my theory at Stony Creek and had a blast! (Do people have blasts anymore? I guess I do. Pitiful.) I was somewhere in the upper third of the pack, not as fast as the speedy group, but still respectable. And there were all kinds of hard charging guys all around me, pushing my limits, challenging my accelerations. I was racing again. How cool.

These guys were all ages as well. One of the cheeks-of-tan Rhinos was in my gray haired state of mind and he responded to every one of my attacks. We went back and forth lap after lap. And he wasn't the only one. I was mixing it up with about five or six guys for most of the race. They were all racing their butts off. It was an honor to be out there with them, not letting things get stale, trading places, trading back.

Marney - Yes, there was a slight breeze. It wasn't balmy.

Can a CX race be nirvana? Is that a contradiction? If you look at a photo of me mid-race you'd wonder how that pained looking grimace could have any relationship to a joyful state of mind. Whatever. I like the way cyclocross hones my bike handling skills. I like its intensity. I don't have to win, place or show, but I certainly want to be out there, grimace and all.

I'm finding a path. It's between yellow ribboned guideposts.

Except for one shot by Andrea Tucker, the photos in this post are, by necessity, not of the B race. I don't take photos while racing. Silly, I know, but it's a rule of mine. These are shots of the Masters and Elite womens race that immediately followed the Killer B's.

Logan on the Job

Logan mans (dogs?) the register at Two Wheel Tango on Packard. Not sure what the labor laws are for dogs these days. (Do they judge age by dog years or people years?)

I think Jess is training him as a master bike fitter. At any rate, it's good to know we're keeping the dogs employed, especially in this economy.

Logan's response to a request for a scheduled fitting? "Woof!" ("Tuesday afternoon at 2:30. It'll take about two hours.") I got it.

Iceman 2010 Lives Up To Its Name

The Start at 10º Below Freezing
Yes, the 2010 edition of Iceman could have been a sled race. Snow filled the woods between Kalkaska and Timber Ridge in Traverse. Bitter temps at 8am, an hour before the start, made "warming up" an impossible dream.

Nick and Angela of Mighty Good Coffee warming the racers pre-start.

I spent more time in the breakfast building than I did on the bike. Wind chill, even pedaling at 10 or 15mph, was numb inducing. Far better to sip a warm cup of Mighty Good coffee and/or eat the hearty breakfast provided by the local Kiwanis Club.

The Reflections. Not sure how you pulled off moving those fingers, but thanks.

There was a jazz combo setting up in this finger locking catatonia and though I never did hear them play, (rude as it was, I had to race), I can only imagine it was challenging enough just to get the instruments out of their cases in this cold air, much less move the fingers to play them.

The skydiver. He probably agreed to do this on a warm July day.

To think that the bikers were the only idiots out there was dead wrong. As the racers lined up, the festivities included a skydiver dropping from a hundred feet or so in the crystalline blue sky. I noticed that he opened the 'chute immediately upon exiting the plane. Otherwise his yanking arm would have frozen in place and the cord would have sat listless in his hand.

Brain numb racers gave him little opportunity for error as they pedaled around the open parking lot he was to land in. He overshot the designated mark by a few degrees and nearly became one with an unsuspecting tandem.

Minutes later the first wave of racers were off. Finally getting out on the snow lined course was a welcome gift of warming momentum. My wave was hauling hard from the start and didn't let up anywhere along the course that I could see.

The course itself was one large layer of white base with a dense relief of stark leafless trees reaching into the blue sky. It was possibly the clearest route I've ever followed in a race. Except for some interesting icy two-track roads, the trail was one long brown line nearly the entire way.

Snow a few inches deep was everywhere the racers weren't. I'd gotten lost the night before warming up in the Timber Ridge area, but getting lost was the least of my worries during the race.

The trail itself was, even in the bitter cold, oddly damp in many places. Mud, though only really prominent in the latter part of the course, was still present throughout.

Bombing down the ice covered hills was great for those of us with fewer brain cells and probably sheer panic for those with their cells still numbering in the higher percentiles. I nearly joined forces with a BikeWorks rider as we both almost shared the same track side-by-side down one of those crusty hills halfway through the race. My bellowing "on your right" scream kept his wheel on the other track. Mighty exhilarating moment for sure.

Notice the direction of the arrow and the direction the riders are going. This was actually the night before where most of us were hopelessly lost on the last part of the course as the sun slowly set.

Once past Williamsburg Road my legs finally felt like they were warming up and at the 8 mile to go marker I felt the finish line within reach. It's in reassuring moments like these that we need to heed the signal from the gods of catastrophe. My signal appeared a short time later on single-track after a long downhill and an arching left hand sweep. In an instant I went from hard charger to pedal spinner with no connection to the rear wheel.

I knew immediately that the chain that kept me driving forward was not cooperating. I looked down to see a slack line trolling listlessly off the back of my derailleur. No panic. (I was freaking out!) I pulled over and laid the bike down in a pristine white snowbank. Out of the saddle bag came a spare link and my multi-tool with the chain breaker.

I'm not the most skilled at breaking links and replacing them. I first stared at the broken part of the chain and made sure that I was correct in thinking I had to break off one link to get my connector to work. A geometry problem in the middle of a race. Not my forte, but I broke the link off and fumbled around with the connector, realizing that I'd thankfully guessed right. That little link is not easy to handle with rapidly chilling fingers losing facility with each passing second.

Then something plopped off a link I was connecting to. It was one of the spacers. Oh, great! No way could I find it in a few inches of snow. I proceeded to connect things up without it and hoped for the best. (I figured I was toast, actually, at this point.)
Notice the missing spacer. Gulp! It still worked fine.

With chain in place, I put things away as dozens, tens of dozens, hundreds, of riders swept past me. The numbers on their plates were rising considerably. My friendly pack of 400s were far closer to the finish than I now was.

If you look closely, you'll see two connecting links on this chain. The first is directly below the one used in the race.

I took a breath, put my glove back on, and made sure everything was zipped up and I had everything. I did--except for my sunglasses. I'd apparently ripped them off to see better at the beginning of the repair job and had no idea where they now were. I looked all about on the ground, but I'd made a mess of kicking the snow and leaves all about. I furiously padded over my pockets. Nothing. Another scan of the ground. Nothing. I ripped off the gloves and felt in every pocket. Yes! There they were. On they went and I joined the ever increasing line of racers.

From there it was on to some of the tougher uphill climbs of the race. I kept waiting for my chain to snap once more as I labored up and over each one. I even figured it would skip without that crucial spacer. But no, it worked great.

My legs were struggling for a while. The long repair time and the squatting position had nearly locked them up, but after a mile or so they came back to form and the rest of the race was back to that joyful realization that I'd made it. The finish line was closing in and nothing could hold me back now.

The humpy little rise at the finish was sheer joy to bash over and I even did a small skipping dance over the timing pads. Another Iceman in the bag.

What a great race. With nearly 4000 racers, the stories are endless and the weather made this one live pleasantly up to its name. Years back, back in the real ice age, I rode my trail bike (motorized--we didn't have mountain bikes back then, unfortunately) on many of these same trails. It was beautiful then and it's beautiful now. I think I stopped panting hard to notice the beauty every now and then during the race.

Thanks Steve Brown and everyone else who puts this together. It really is an amazing experience.

Photos by Connie (except for the chain shots--they're all mine and I'm proud of them).

Bike Fall 2010

European Cyclocross Videos
The closest I can get so far to free European cyclocross race videos is this:

http://www.sporza.be/cm/sporza/videozone/MG_sportnieuws/MG_wielrennen/

Wielrennen apparently means cycle racing. There's a great interview with Nys on the link above, but it's in Flemish. I figure if I watch enough of these I'll be speaking like a native in about twenty years or so. The race videos only show the last lap, but so far it's better than nothing.

The entire races do get streamed live. If you can adjust your schedule to European time that's another option.

Still can't find much of anything that shows women's CX racing.

There are some short postings of American CX race videos on Velonews.com.

If you find anything else, please let us know. (Mark, are you out there?)

David V. Herlihy
Herlihy, author most recently of The Lost Cyclist and also of the excellent Bicycle, a History, will be signing his book at Nicola's Books at 7pm on Friday evening, Nov. 5th.

I look forward to reading The Lost Cyclist, a true story about an avid cyclist adventurer, Frank Lenz, who toured the world in the early 1890s on a prototype of the kind of bikes we ride now. It has a tragic outcome, but Lenz must have been quite the intrepid explorer to even attempt this journey.

Bike Fall
And yes, the title of this post is deliberate. I'm still perfecting my falling skills. I've added it (unintentionally) to my regular practice regimen.