#CCCNYR Roadtrip: It’s not about the Bikes

Podium Girls?  No.  Snowmen in Chicago

The fire alarm went off just past 3am on Saturday night at the Hilton Indian Lakes Resort, host of the Chicago Cyclocross Cup New Years Resolution UCI races.  Sunday morning, the race announcer would remark, “I’ve never seen so many pro’s in their underwear!”  You learn neat little revealing tidbits about people on bike road trips, things that could make or break a fun trip.  Choose your room/car mates wisely.  Ask yourself, what would you do if you were in your boxer-briefs, in a post-race deep coma and the place caught fire when it’s 19 degrees outside?  Would you put on pants and boots?  Grab your car keys?  Make your teammate get his skinny butt out of bed?  

Despite knowing that fire can sweep through a house in like 4 minutes, we assumed a false alarm.  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.  It went off again!  I could hear the alarms start in the south part of the building and, like a wave, reach our room.  “Oh, this must be real.” I jumped out of bed, slipped on my pants and Crocs, donned a baseball cap, grabbed the room key off the coffee bar and headed out the door.  In a muffled southern drawl, Gers muttered a joke about a smoker jonesin’ for a grit and gathered more pillows around his ears.  I left him to die.

J-Pow! Leads Sand on Saturday

Out in the lobby were about 100 guests in various states of readiness, like my buddy Peter and his family.  His wife clutched her purse and car keys, kids clinging to her legs.  Others, like me, had exposed toes and a two day old t-shirt, no wallet, coat or car keys.  Still no one was stepping into the frigid night until smoke reached our eyebrows and the pajamas started to feel warmer than normal.  Remarkably with a hotel full of racers and $5000 rigs, not one person in view opted to save their bike.  The ladder truck rolled up.  A fireman put a key to the alarm console at the concierge desk.  It shut off.  We sighed.  Then, it blared again starting from the far south of the building.  Uh-oh time.  The firemen returned with axes and more gear.  Something was on fire.  It must have been minimal.  Within a few minutes, the all clear sounded.  I returned to the room.  Gers grumbled something.  We never heard the cause.  The next day he admitted he had a plan to escape certain death.  He would break our 1^st floor window with my trainer. 

Gers Couldn't Resist the Instagram Allure

“They should have windmill powered cars,” Gers said as our 4 and a half hour road trip conversation turned to inventions.  On our way up, we were passing the giant wind farm between Chicago and Indianapolis along I-65.  Gers googled, “Did you know there are 87 windmills?  Looks like a shit-ton more to me.  I mean look at ‘em.”  I nodded and filled the pause, “You know, a windmill powered car would be the perfect closed circle of propulsion.  The faster you go, the more energy you create.”  Gers agreed, both of us completely neglecting the physics of friction and aerodynamics.  We still had 200 miles to go, conversation was imperative.  Gers would invent the modular trailer 20 miles later, like Legos with stackable and removable compartments depending on how big or small the load.  It seemed brilliant at the time.  You could put your bikes in one, gear in another.  Now I’m struggling with how they’d latch together.  The corn fields and miles whizzed by.

Saturday Chicago Cross Cup Elite Men Podium

South of Chicago we flipped on the famous radio station Chicago’s Finest Rock, 93 WXRT.  It was Gers first time listening.   With my background in radio, I explained what a rarity this station was, surviving with an odd mix of eclectic classic rock, new alternative hits, authentic Chicago blues artists and Grammy worthy nuggets in between.  Segueing from the Rolling Stones to Peter Gabriel to Mumford and Sons, I was digging it.  Growing up in nearby Milwaukee and having lived in the northern Chicago suburbs for a few years, I appreciated every song that dripped out of the speakers.  Then the true test came.  I turned up the volume for The Velvet Underground’s “I’m Waiting For The Man.”  Gers started singing it, “26 dollars…in my hand.”  “Yeah,” I thought, “he’s cool.”  This is a guy I can share a hotel room with.

Joe vs J-Pow? I Say, “What the Pho!”

Beach Boardwalk in St. Maarten

The people next to us are blowing up a floatie toy for their kids on the beach in St. Maarten.  Donk-da-donk-dee- -donk-da-donk-dee goes the sound of the reggaeton music distortedly booming from the grass thatched roof of the nearby bar.  It’s a Caribbean club mix of a Rihanna song.  I’m drinking water.  Even on vacation, still too early for beer.  As I remember, I finished the short story I was reading in my Outside Magazine Top 25 book.  From under this umbrella, looking over the rim of my Giro cycling sunglasses across the water stretching to Puerto Rico, I see some snorkeling, others bobbing on those wacky noodles, some kids down the beach playing paddle ball.  I eyed the perimeter of buoys surrounding the swimming area.  It was large, maybe 150 meters out to the tip of the peninsula on my right and 300 meters wide to the other side of the little bay.  I wondered.  Yeah.  I think I can swim that.

You Can't Say No to Pho

Lately I’ve found myself in these situations with little conundrums.  I fight with my brain.  I wonder if I can swim 600 meters in the ocean, not having freestyled a distance like that since I was on the Menomonee Falls HS team.  Then again, this a resort beach, not the English Channel.  Just minutes ago at the radio station where I work, Amy Tobin, a local culinary expert, brought in a dish of Pho for me to try.  It was phresh.  Pho is an Asian soup with a wonderful vegetable broth made of basil, cilantro, red peppers, sprouts, a twist of lime and a few other unrecognizable things.  At the bottom of the bowl is filet mignon.  She tells me the hot soup cooks the meat.  Genius!  I’ve never had it before but it looks delicious, like $15 on Chef Ramsey’s restaurant menu delicious.  I start to waffle and she knows it.  She forgets sometimes.  I gently remind her I’ve been eating more or less vegan since November.  “What the Pho!”  She says coining the phrase with a smile.  Ha!  I picked up my spoon and laughed.  Yeah.  What the Pho.

Granted, these moments aren’t daring.  I’m not booking a Himalayan trek.  I’m not skydiving or chancing an X-Games motorcycle gap jump, but I am kicking off my shoes and jumping in the ice cold water of a waterfall pool mid-hike.  Without a towel no less!  I find myself more and more taking advantage of opportunities put before me, mainly for the reason I may not be able to do them again.  It’s like money in the memory bank for me.  I don’t buy that it’s the cliché midlife crisis.  I could give a crap if I had a corvette or a boat.  Aside from my cycling friends, I look 10 years younger than anyone my age.  I got carded buying beer at a Fray concert the other day.  I think this is more of a decision to live in the moment, not be boxed in by rules real or imaginary and not let life pass you by. 

Me and Jpow at Cincy3 2011

This morning, I entered a pro cyclocross race.  It’s not my first, but probably my first since I got on the other side of 40.  What the Pho!  It’s at night and under the lights.  It’s the CX After Dark Series stop on day 2 of the Cincy3 CX Festival.  National Champion Jeremy Powers will likely be on the driving end.  What’s the worst that could happen?  Even though I had to tread water for a few seconds to get my bearing, I completed my little ocean swim in St. Maarten.  I drained my Hydrapak and got back to our car a little later than expected on that hike to the arch.  I ingested three thin slices of beef in the last 9 months, but now I’ve had Pho.  My veganism wasn’t a no-hitter anyway.  I don’t think I’ll have this opportunity again.  I know I’ll have to race my heart out to even have the remotest chance of staying on the lead lap.  It’ll likely be a matter of how many laps I’ll be down at the end of the race.  I’ll be training.  My wife, friends and fans will be screaming.  My JBV coach Chris Mayhew will be there.  I’ll have my trusted teammate Jaden in the pits.  There’ll be lights and music, heckles and hand-ups, cowbells and cheers.  It’ll be fun, likely a highlight of the season.  What the Pho!

Joe Note: J-pow is hosting a Cyclocross Clinic in Cincinnati with JBV Coaching on September 1st.  It'll be a full day with classroom and on the bike instruction.  You should do it, if only to say you had lunch and rode with Jpow.  What the Pho!  Click here for details.

Lose Yourself in 2012-13 Cyclocross

I’m guessing this is the point in his training where Michael Phelps fired up the bong, aka The Rest Week.  While I don’t condone pulling a Phelps, with the sun of this year’s World Championship cyclocross season rising on the horizon, I clearly see why he needed the break.  In order to be the most decorated Olympian in history, he needed to be Mike for a while.  Go to Vegas.  Play video games.  Blow off practice.  Walk around with a case serial killer bed head hair.  On July 23^rd, my coach, Chris Mayhew at JBV Coaching, assigned me a two week break from riding.  He knows this season is special, a once in a lifetime perhaps.  Yesterday was the last day of slacking before a season that’ll end with the World Championships. 

Breathe in.  Breathe out.

I’m trying to balance levity with the magnitude of the opportunity.  Maybe you’re holding back your excitement too, and that’s why I sort of feel alone in the pursuit.  Even with the flame burning in London, I’m not getting the feeling that many grasp what a gift the 2012-13 cyclocross season calendar is.  Locally in the Ohio Valley we have clinics featuring Jeremy Powers and Kaitlin Antonneau, a cyclocross series in OVCX that’s on par with New England and the Northwest, the Cincy 3 Cyclocross Festival, Cross After Dark, USGP races in Madison and Louisville, a huge UCI weekend in Chicago, Nationals nearby, a Worlds warm up race in Cincinnati and then, finally the Cyclocross World Championships in Louisville for both Masters and Elite.  Oh-My-God!  What a Cyclocross Season!

Harbin Park, site of Cincy 3 CX Festival, circa 2001

12 years ago, you had your choice of three races: A, B, or C. The course was hastily marked with flags and orange spray paint.  This year, you’ll see national jerseys on the backs of European stars wiz past your nose through the fog of your frozen breath.  I’m not saying cyclocross is going to disappear in 2014, but right here, right now, for many of us this season is the best chance we’ll ever have to plant our cleats as high as we can on the summit of cross mountain.  This is the perfect opportunity to grab the low hanging cowbells.  Without pounding a nail in the cross-coffin, for those on the upper end of the Masters demo, you’ll likely never have this chance again without dipping into your 401(k) for plane tickets and baggage fees to Europe.  This is your Eminem “Lose Yourself” moment. 

Marshall Mathers turns 40 in October, racing age 41.

2008 OVCX Gun Club Carnage

Oddly, I feel almost alone in the pursuit, and mine has nothing to do with the podium.  Outside the voices in my head, I’m not feeling a buzz, your buzz.  Maybe it has something to do with the individualistic approach we have to cyclocross or cycling in general.  We know better than to hang our hopes on one race.  Dreams can be dashed on a sharp root or a slick corner.  We purse our lips and swallow back notions of excitement, in case they are dashed with a 25mph header into a sand pit.  But this season is different.  Never before have we had so many major events, so many chances to feel a little glory. 

Masters 45-49 World Champs Seeding Startline Jan 2012

So, afford yourself the chance and share your excitement.  Get off the fence.  Register.  Let the tiny cowbells in your head crescendo into some thing on par with the bum-bum-BA-bum-bum rumble of the Olympic Theme kettle drum.  Share your goals on your Facebook status.  Remember what a treasure it is to have that photo of yourself towing the start line at Worlds.  Hire a coach.  Snatch up that non-stop January flight from Denver to Louisville that I saw online for $262 round trip.  Volunteer as a course marshall.  Book the hotel for that faraway race or pro clinic you’re on the fence about.  Show up early for the juniors.  Stay late for the post race party.  Create a Power Point to convince your family that Chicago, Madison, Cincinnati and Louisville are wonderful places to visit in the winter.  The next six months will fly by and we need to make the most of it.  I can’t wait to be wearing a rain jacket, rubber boots, eating a waffle, drinking from a flask and standing next to you as we hang over the banners at Worlds screaming “Allez!”

Cross Nation, this year is special and we need more cowbell.

My Cincinnati UCI-3 Cyclocross Festival Charm Bracelet

It’s like recovering from a traumatic experience, the UCI3 weekend plays back in sound bites and blurry flashes.  I distinctively remember seeing a female racer in tears on top of the bowl at Devou Park on Friday.  A teammate consoled her.  Not sure if she crashed in the ¾ race or just missed the podium.  I still don’t know.  The weekend feels like a charm bracelet of colorful moments like that.  There’s not a huge story that sticks out from the weekend.  Sure Katie Compton swept it again.  The battle between Trebon and JPow was great to watch from day to day with each trying to use their strengths to the other’s demise.  Nothing against the pro’s, they are the reason we came together this past weekend and they were so nice and approachable.  However, personally I had just as much fun running into my friends Pete and Kate and their cute little toddler for the first time.  His blonde hair was patchy and long.  His head was still a little flat from the crib and he wobbled around and giggled at the crazy bike world around him completely adorable.  That's how the weekend plays out for me, one unrelated blurb after another.

Friday Devou Park, Covington:

Completely whooped and wheezing after my race, I considered drinking from the drinking fountain doggie bowl.  Seriously.  I couldn’t drink water fast enough after the 2/3 race and I’m certain I looked disturbing to the handful of folks on the corner.  A Nut buster.  I seriously should dump this 42T chainring for a 39.  Where’s Parbo?  He’s not feeling good.  My teammate Tony took the 3^rd step on the podium in the Cat 3 Masters 45+ at his hometown park.  He doesn’t like flex-fit caps, so he gave me the Shimano hat he won.  

“Ya think Katie Compton would be cool if I took a picture while she’s on the rollers?”  I showed her the photo above and she approved.  I distinctively remember sticking my handlebars between the fence and my teammate’s bike going through the holeshot from road to grass not knowing where I’d come out on the other side.  That crying girl.  She didn’t look hurt.  Geoff Kabush’s sideburns are a wonder of nature.  3 laps to go?  This race could end right now and I’d be completely okay with it.  

Passing a Belgian Waffle and downing it with my wife and four others like sips of Whiskey from a flask.  After the Cat 3 race, seven friends shared a few beers in lawn chairs ringing cowbells.  Somebody left a crappy set of wheels by my truck.  That 12 year old Petrov kid just crushed the Cat 4 field.  Inadvertently mooning pro’s across the street.  My pants kept sliding off my waist as I loaded wheels into my truck.  “I’m sorry.  Did you see my man candy?”  Bridget you owe me five bucks. 

Saturday Harbin Set-up:

Maybe they're in the shed.  I was running late to meet for Harbin course set up in the morning and couldn’t find my leather work gloves.  S*** I need gas too.  Where’s that coupon for Brueggers?  I’m soo late, but I feel so much better after that morning recovery ride.  

Ouch!  I sliced my thumb with a multi tool knife cutting caution tape off of last year’s course marking stakes.  Two on these three UCI3 signs, one each on the other four.  I calculated how to hang the ten cowbells along the sandpit fencing at Harbin (see photo, bells hanging on UCI3 signs.)  Clangalangalang.  I tested each one.  I hope no one steals these overnight.  Wow!  Andy Perrino did a great job.  Those flowers, pumpkins and gourds look great on the stage.  

Phil mentioned he had to jump to cut those tree branches to Trebon and Wicks height.  You gotta choke the golf cart...alot.  “Let’s make our goal to finish taping off the course by 2:15 and be pre-riding by 2:30.”  Record time for Harbin set-up.  Brian cut a tire.  Nate slide out.  Suddenly I was leading the group for the test run.  Oh no, what’s this plastic stuff on my brake pads?  Did I wreck my carbon wheels?  Fhew!  It’s just old glue that oozed out, collected and heat-solidified on the edges of my yellow Swiss-stops. 

Sunday Snapshots at Harbin

“Pump my tires for good luck,” my wife jokingly asked before I left.  I did.  She got a flat on her group ride.  I dropped and tangled my chain with 3 turns to go at Harbin and in 4 seconds 12 guys passed me.  Note to self: not much luck in pumping tires.  

“Does this bike make my ass look fast?”  Jeni wore her funny t-shirt to the race.  Boom-ta-doom-ta.  Boom-ta-doom-ta.  I banged out a weak reggaeton beat on the drum kit next to my buddy Tony, a professional drummer.  He gave me a fist bump of approval me after the jam session during the Women’s ¾ race.  

I want the bat.  My friends Bridget and Kate gave me stick on Halloween tattoos on my neck.  Barry Wicks silently came around me on the warm up.  I bagged it to stay on his wheel.  He was gone after the barriers.  I remember feeling like I was in a video game, nearly missing carnage everywhere on the first lap or two of the Cat 2/3 race.  Cat like reflexes.  

Mary Beth brought refreshements to the drum stand, but hilariously kept knocking the bottles over.  Nate threw his bike.  After taking the lead in the Men’s Cat 3 35+, something happened to cause his bars to twist.  His bike unrideable, he was done.  A sweet two wheel slide.  With a half lap to go, I let it all hang out on the section where I had Barry’s wheel.  I stayed upright.  Dudes just falling down to the grass at the finish line.  They weren’t being drama-queens, they were honestly completely wasted.  

A friend told me he overheard Trebon (pictured at Devou) poke fun at Mark Legg by saying “Go Mister Compton!”  In a friendly way, Legg fired back, “FU Jeremy Powers.”  Chris Nevitt, Gerri Schulze, Jake Virosko and Jason Karew are looking good.  We were all impressed with the showing of local talent in the pro races.  The Double Hurdler burger with onions, mayo and mustard.  The line was huge.  I bet they raised enough money at the food booth to buy the trail cutting machine for Devou Park mountain bike trails.  Geoff Kabush relaxed in the tent next to me as neutral support tightened the hub on my rear wheel.  There were some nice Vittoria knobbed tubies on his bike with a gummy sidewall, very similar to Challenge Griffos, but probably a few bucks less expensive.  A Cat 4 racer cussed right in front of the anncouncer stand and got called out on it!

I mimed “I like your hair” to Suzanne from the drumstand.  She understood and gave her bobby hair a girlish poof.  Good to see and chat with friends I haven’t seen in a long-long time like Suzanne and Bob.  Really good.  That’s the real big story of the weekend.

Get Bunny Hopped by J-Pow: The Cat 4 Guide to Racing After the Pro’s at Cincinnati's UCI-3 Cyclocross Festival

Quitcher bitchin’.  If you’re a Cat 4, racing after the pro races at Cincinnati’s UCI-3 Cyclocross Festival this weekend, you should be tongue kissing the promoters.  Besides sleeping in like a pro, there’s a giganti-mongous immeasurable positive that no cyclocrosser before you has ever experienced.  You’re the man on the moon.  You’re the first to summit Everest without oxygen.  You’ll get to see how the pros do it, before you race.

People pay grizzled ornery old pro’s (cycling coaches) lots of money every month to get better at cyclocross.  Now, for the low Sham Wow cost of $49.99…no $39.99…no, included with your $30 entry fee, you can study the pro’s and learn lots from them and use that information on the same exact course on the same exact day while the pro’s watch you.  That’s unheard of.  If you do it right, you won’t embarrass yourself riding your Kona in front of the Kona Team RV.  Here’s how to do it:

Get There Early

The times vary each day, but get to the venue to be ready to ride during the open course window before the pro women race.  What!?  I should show up to a race three hours before my start time, that’s crazy talk Joe Biker.  No.  In fact, you should show up FOUR hours before your race.  Get there in time to be ready to ride for the open course before the Masters Men race.  Print off the confirmed riders sheet from the Bike Reg website to help identify the pros.  Ya see, if you get there at the right time you’ll be on the course warming up with Katie Compton, Barbara Howe, Laura Van Gilder and more.  If you know who they are, ask nicely, and they might even stop for a photo.  No duck billing like Snooki please.

Open Course #1

It’s too early for you to be taking a hot (fast) lap, but this is your chance to scout the course when the pros will be taking their own laps.  Right off the bat split the course into sections: the start, the sand, the twists, the straightaway, the backside hill, the barriers, the 2^nd sand, the finish.  Then spend a minute or two on each section.  If you luck out, chances are a pro will roll through on a few of those sections.  You’re not going to be able to J-Pow the barriers today, so look for the little things that you can easily duplicate.  What sections is Katie Compton riding in the drops or on the hoods?  If you get behind Barbara Howe, look at her form and mimic it.  How does Laura Van Gilder approach the sand and the barriers?  When does Sue Butler downshift before the climb?

Elite Masters Men

Put the bike back, finish registration.  Chill out.  Eat something.  Noodle past the pro team trucks.  Last year I saw Barry Wicks pin his own bib number to his skinsuit so it when he put it on it was perfectly flat.  Click here for that story.  When the bell rings, grab your bike and get ready for the 2^nd open course window.

Open Course #2

Be aware that you’re on the course with the elite women who no doubt will be getting in their last hard efforts before their race.  Watch out and yield for them.  You don’t want to be THAT GUY who crashed out Katie Compton.  Get in a hot lap.  Try the lines you scouted earlier at your race speed.  If you flub a line, turn around and do it again.  With the pro’s, pay attention to what they are doing 15 minutes before they take the hole shot.  See if any of the pros are concentrating on a particular section.  How long are their hard efforts?  How many did she do?

Elite Women

Grab your chair and cowbell and watch a section of the course that’s giving you the heebie jeebies.  Stay off your feet.  Cheer, eat and drink.  You have plenty of time before you need to worry about warming up.  Be a fan.  Enjoy it.

Elite Men Warm-up

After the pro women take the bell, grab your bike and your camera.  When the course is clear, get on your bike and ride with the pros.  Soak up the moment.  You got your hot lap in.  You know the course.  Have fun.  See if you can hang on Parbo’s wheel.   Ride along with Katie Compton as she cools down and say, “good job.”  If your name is Harry Wicks, get a photo with Barry Wicks.  Compare sideburns with Canadian National Champion Geoff Kabush.  Ask a friend to snap a photo while Jeremy Powers bunny hops you!

Pro Men Race

You’ll want to start your own warm up within an hour, but that still should give you enough time to watch at least 2 laps of the pro men’s race.  Watch the holeshot.  Since you registered late and are in the back row, pick a pro who’s a few rows back at the start and watch the strategy they use to work their way through the field.  Run over and catch them on a part of the course you had trouble with.  Then get on the trainer or roll through the neighborhood to warm up your legs.  When you hear the bell, ride over and catch the finish.

Cat 4 Warm Up

Here’s your chance to put what you’ve learned to the test.  Take another lap.  Eat a Gu.  Ride the tough sections at speed.  Get a few hard efforts in.  Practice your start.  Go get ‘em Tiger.