How To: Take An Austin Powers Style Natural Correcto

The light at Camargo & Miami in Madiera turned red.  I zipped across anyway.  I had to take a natural.  Sorry, but the laws of nature supersede traffic law.  Right officer?  I knew this ride wasn’t going to let up for the next hour and the morning coffee was percolating.  Between here and the halfway sprint, I could foresee no other points where a pause in the action and a good pee place would intersect.  Figuring I had somewhere between 30 and 45 seconds of red light before the group would get back to business, I thought I’d be able to duck behind BioWheels bike shop, take care of business and either jump right back with the group as it passed or, if this were to be a grande natural, at the very least I’d catch ‘em on the descent.  I chased the group in full-on flat-backed heart grabbing donkey wheezing mode for the next 10 miles dangling between 50 and 300 meters.  I finally caught on in Loveland, only to get popped seconds later as the group punched a big climb at 23mph. Then I spent the next 5-7 miles chasing with a teammate who also got dropped on the climb all because I had to take a pee.  Have you seen my critical mistake?

I didn’t tell anyone I was going to take a natural.  What a doof I am.  Essentially I limited my potential bridge back on posse to the handful of people who saw me head up to the shop.  I had four teammates in the bunch, a few good friends, one of the Two John’s, and a bunch of others that know me well enough to give me the courtesy of holding up a bit for me to catch on.  Here’s what my antic’s looked like to the five people who saw me.  F*&%!  Joe just ran the red light.  He’s headed up to the bike shop.  Look like he’s probably ditching his knee warmers or something.  Oop, light’s green, let’s go.  At this point there are no thoughts of Joe, because the group of 25 or so is bombing down a hill at 30+mph, navigating a notoriously slippery set of angled railroad tracks followed by a 90 degree corner at the bottom.

Here’s what it was like from my perspective.  Oop, can’t pee here, looks like that’s wood for the shop renovation.  How ‘bout here?  Nope that’s Mitch’s car.  Can the neighbors see?  Who cares?  Get the front of your bibs down.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.   Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Did the light turn yet?   Ahhhhh. Ahhhhhhh. Ah.  Ah.  Ah.  Fhew!  Tuck in under jersey.  Pick up bike.  Clip in.  Where’d they go?  Oh F%^*!  They’re halfway down the hill.  Tuck and hammer.  Oh Sh&* the tracks.  Jam on brakes.  Cross.  Back up to speed.  Crap they’re around the corner.  Hammer.  Just 50 more meters.  Ugh, little bastard hill.  Dammit 100 meters. 

Like the directions on a shampoo bottle, so it went for the next 10-15 miles.  Close gap, stuck at light, hammer, repeat.  I finally caught the group in the next town, unfortunately 10 seconds before the major climb of the ride.  Still trying to choke back my heart & lungs, I was waxed and off the back in 20 seconds flat.  Here I went again, but this time I had the company of another dropped rider.  We tried in vain to catch on for the next 5-7 miles, but eventually the group got out of sight, we figured we missed a turn, and gave up the gootch. 

So to save you from making the same mistake, here’s how to take a Natural Correcto:

Step 1: Tell group you’re going to go, making this point right in front of the leader or veteran riders.  Maybe say something like, “Hey I’m gonna zip up here and take a pee.” 

Step 2: Ask a teammate to hold up to help you bridge back on. Maybe say something like, “Can you Andy, Brian and Matt hold up a bit to help me bridge back on, thanks man.”

Step 3: Take natural as quick as possible as waiting friends or teammates dangle off the back of the group.

Step 4: Time trial to your waiting teammates or friends and work together to bridge the rest of the way

Step 5: Return the favor later by keeping a teammate out of the wind or offering up half a Clif bar.

The Cat Peed On Me...and other excuses for missing a race

We are dangerously close to the first original post on The Best Bike Blog Ever. Granted the stories about Cincinnati's UCI 3-day cyclocross weekend were original, however they weren't written specifically for this blog. If you didn't know, AOL is closing it's Journals. As of October 31st my former blog, "Joe Biker" on AOL, will be gone forever, update your bookmarks & favorites. While just about everything has been moved and I'm pretty happy with the layout and appearance, I regretfully haven't had time to write new content for The Best Bike Blog Ever. In the works is an article about the handful of bike shops scattered across the nation from Key West to Kaanapali that live in the happy dusty corners of my travel memories. Stay tuned and thanks for reading. Til then, here's a classic from the former Joe Biker Blog on AOL dated Thursday, July 5, 2007.

The Cat Peed On Me...and other excuses for missing a race

The cat peed on me. That’s why I didn’t race DINO AMBC at Muskawhatevertuck. Now, I know what you’re saying, “but you’re Joe Biker and nothing stops you from racing!” Well I’m sorry teammates and friends. Apparently, this Bio Wheels racer has found his Kryptonite.

I’ve raced with a leg brace just months after ACL reconstruction. Carson Palmer ain’t got jack on me. Losing my tire a quarter of a lap into the 6 Hours of John Bryan last year didn’t stop me. I rode the rim, still kept the 2nd place team behind us. But cat piss on my backside at 5am the morning of an AMBC race spelled immediate disaster.

I got to bed late for a race, maybe around midnight. But, the DINO start time was noon, so I thought I could sleep till 8ish, and still make the 2 hour drive with plenty of time to get lost and/or get in a good warm up. It was a nice two Grolsh induced slumber.

We normally put our two cats, 14 year old Hanna and 2 year old Tsali (pretty cool name huh?) in the basement before we go to bed. Cats have a weird fascination with sleeping humans. And, that whole standing on your chest and sucking your breath out thing, myth or not, still freaks me out. So, in the basement they go. Except for last Saturday night. Remember I had two beers. For a cyclist, that’s pretty much hammered pass out drunk. So, we left the cats out and hit the hay.

I’m not sure if I noticed the time on the clock or the wetness on my butt first, both were shocking. It was 5:05am. I reached back with my right hand above the covers and they were soaked. “Did I? No. It’s not my front side! What the!? (sniffing my hand) Omigod!! Hanna!!!!”

The wetness went through the blanket, sheet, my boxers, the sheet with the elastic corners and down into the mattress pad. Luckily it stopped there. I’ve never stripped the bed so quick. At 5:06 the washer was going with the first load, while I sprayed Pet Out™ on the rest of the bedding.

After shoeing the bad cat in the basement, I sat in a huff on the sofa, turned on the replay of the Busch Series Nascar race on ESPN and realized that by the time I got two loads of wash through the dryer, it would be 7am. I wouldn’t be able to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a crack before I’d have to switch loads.

I was doomed. I was pissed off. I looked at the clock again and realized that I’d have to face some of the fastest mountain bike racers in the Midwest in a matter of hours on less than 5 hours sleep. Then my little back ache from doing the Hyde Park Blast the day before crept in.

In all reality I was considering a 2 hour drive to get my ass handed to me by those Indiana boys. No thanks. I opened my book, Bobke 2, and Bob Roll and I suffered together.