Freaky Fast Fun at Fountainhead
by rickyd
Yesterday’s Cranky Monkey race at Fountainhead was a helluva lotta fun. Very tight in the beginning, but by the time the first half of the first lap was over, the singlespeed category was far enough ahead and behind that I didn’t see anyone else in my class. A few 35ers (guys that were 35+ category, who started behind us) had caught and passed me, but I tried to stay on top of my pedals so I wouldn’t have a situation like last week where I got lazy and softpedaled myself out of the top five.
As we got to about 3/4 of the first lap, I started to see a familiar jersey. It was Wayne, and I noticed he was hoofin’ it up the hills! Say what? At that point I knew I had to ride aggressively to get him within striking range. Whenever I got to an uphill, I could see him running and remounting his bike. The problem was when he got to the top, he’d be gone by the time I got up there. From the few races I’ve done this year with him, he’s faster than me, but I had him figured out for this one. The short steep hills of this place was his crutch. Maybe he underestimated these hills and overgeared? I loved them because I ran lower gears than most of my competition, and I rarely had to get off on the climbs. Yeah baby, it was catch and kill time.
I eventually got to the infamous Shock-O-Billy downhill and no one was in front of me. After negotiating the first two rock-filled steps, I let go of my brakes and flew down faster than I ever had before. I expected a wipeout as I tapped my brakes when crossing the little wooden bridge at the bottom - felt the front tire slide even - but managed to stay upright. Ahhh, life was good!
The rush of the hooting and hollering from the “crash and burn” crowd reinvigorated me so I stood up to hammer the beginning of the second lap. First thing after the downhill was a turn, then another longish uphill. I saw Wayne again, but he was already most of the way up there. I swallowed up a few other 35ers (I think), but again, as I got to the top, he was gone. Lucky for me, most of the hills were on the tail end of the course.
A 35er was on my tail, and sensing I was slowing him down, I let him pass. I look back briefly to see if any of my competition rode his train, then ride a little off the trail and get a thorny vine tangled in my pedals and drivetrain. I stop, yank it out, but not without leaving a few barbs in my fingers. “^%@#&^%@#!!”
“Eff this noize, it’s time to start hustlin’!” I stand and try to deliver. I catch up to the 35er, but he’s hurting my uphills when he drops it into his low gears. I slow down because there’s nowhere to pass on this skinny section of loose singletrack. “Whizz, whizz!” go the tires as they lose traction on the loose gravel. I catch myself from falling over and sprint as hard as I can for the rest of the uphill. I eventually get back around him and try to put distance between us so it doesn’t seem like the pass is in vain.
Wayne’s on the radar again as the hills come. I see him walking, and that makes me pump harder. I know if I don’t catch him on the hills, he’ll go bye-bye on the flats. As the hills come and go, I gain ground. Towards the end of the lap, the hills are bigger and longer. Closer…closer…he’s eventually right in front of me…then BAM! I swing around him and pedal my arse off. I’m afraid to look back. I’m pretty sure that he can’t be too pleased that I took his spot this far into the race with not that much left to go.
We approach Shock-O-Billy for the second and last time. I pass one slowpoke from another class, and I call out to pass another guy before we get to the beginning of El Shock’. Too late! We were both approaching too quickly and I can’t get around him on the downhill or else I’d be disqualified (or cause an accident.) Suckage, because putting him between Wayne and me would have made it easier to seal the deal. I was riding the guy’s wheel, bumming a bit about the situation, when I decide to do a little showboating by hitting a lip and catching some air.
Stupid. See the pics on the left. No air caught, and I shoot off the trail and almost into the crowd. I fully expect Wayne to be blowing by me, but I don’t even look back up the hill. I jump back on the trail and go anaerobic to finish off the short distance back to the line. Lucky for me the singletrack is a tight uphill to the finish where it’s relatively hard to pass. I still don’t look back, but everyone is yelling, “He’s right behind you! GO! GO! GO!” My lungs are on fire and my legs and arms are wobbly. I can hardly keep a straight line, which probably worked to my advantage. I was all over the place, probably (and totally unintentionally) blocking his passing zones. I can hear him breathing down my neck. If he wanted to get around me, he’d have to work it by taking the bad lines over the roots. I steadfastly kept my line through the fillet of the trail.
I see the paved section that leads to the end, and get out of my saddle to grunt. Jim the director is on a megaphone telling me to push it and that Wayne’s right behind me. I give it one last oomph, cross the line, and collapse on the ground like I’ve never done before. I’m seeing stars, but I end up with third in singlespeed!
AFTERWARDS: Wayne was 3 seconds behind me. On the other hand, Pierre and Pearce were at least four and a half minutes ahead of me. If you don’t know what that means in biking terms, it means they are in another league, i.e., they are varsity, while I (and everyone behind me) play in J.V. 
(pic by buddy Jason Stoner, the original Disco Cowboy)
Whistler
Mike and I and a bunch of friends just got back from 10 days at Whistler Mtn Resort in BC. For those of you who haven’t heard of Whistler’s Mtb park, let me fill you in. It’s awsome, definitly the best ridding I have ever done. They have around 50 lift access trails, as well as hundreds of miles of cross country trails. The lift access trails were so good, well worn in, fast and flowy, with well designed stunts and jumps which made it comfortable to really push yourself and improve. Probly their most well known trail, A-line, for air line, was one of my favorites. It was like a dirt jump trail for DH bikes, without having to worry about landing on shovels and rakes left between the doubles. Wide open, perfectly banked turns with big tabletops so that if you didn’t make the backside of the jump, landing on top was no problem. But of course after a few days of riding, hitting the backsides was also no problem. There were long technical trails which started from the top of the mtn near the glacier, short steep trails which wound between tight trees in dark pine forest, long steep rock slabs, and tons of wooden ladders and bridges. Of course you can get realy hurt there, in more ways then one. A friend of ours, disregarding the commonly accepted wisdom of taking it easy on the trails the first day, was riding too fast. He crashed and hurt his wrist pretty good, so he hung out for the afternoon and had some drinks. That night we all went out and the drinking continued. I left the bar by midnight, not being a drinker. Evidently at some point in the night he blacked out and wandered off. Some time during the wee hours of the morning he arrived back at the condo with a hugh gash and rock rash covering half of his face. He had woken up in a creek. That day he went to the clinic and had a cast put on his broken arm and stiches on his face. He told them that both were from the bike wreck.
We were there during the their Crankworks festival, the highlight being the huge invitation only Slopestyle competition on the last day. Top riders get huge air and pull sick new tricks like the back flip trail whip(think about it) in a huge dirt and wood park with some drops and gaps as big as 40 feet.
The village was also awsome. Huge, big enough to get lost in. Lots of really good shops and restaraunts, and of course my favorite, ice cream and chocolate shops. Nothing like taking a mid day break from riding to have a hamburger and ice cream cone while watching practice for the Slopestyle. Not to mention the Marky Mark sighting at a night club. There was also a kick ass swimming lake, complete with nude beach (on the other side)for anyone you really wouldn’t want to see in the nude. Highly recomended (Whistler, not the nude beach).
—Hillary Elgert
Cranky Monkey 1 & 3
Race report by Tris
The first cranky monkey at Wakefield went quite well. I lined up first for sport women and then by the time the race started found that all of the other women had crowded in front of me. Two of them crashed together at the start right in front of me, but that was really my only problem. I ended up at the top of the gravel hill in 6th (class of 10) and began riding the single track. About half way through the first lap, I saw another woman ahead of me and worked to catch up. Since I am not great at pacing myself, I decided to ride on her wheel for awhile, knowing that if I passed her, I was on the podium.
As we came up on the line to start our second lap, she ran out of gas, and I flew past her. The second lap was completely alone. I just went hard, knowing the course well and felt pretty good. Near the end I was passed by another woman. I don’t know where she came from, but I was upset about it. But I held onto her wheel and she took a stumble and I was able to ride around her and never saw her again. But I spent the last lap sure that she was right behind me, which helped me keep my pace up.
The cranky monkey at Fountainhead was not so good. Mike and I had returned from a 10 day vacation in Tahoe and Yosemite at about 10 PM the night before, so getting up at 7 was pretty difficult. We had done a ton of biking and hiking on vacation, so I was pretty tired and sore as well. But I decided to race anyway, which in hindsight may not have been the best decision.
As I warmed up, I could tell my legs were really tired. But I had already paid the cash, so I might as well go.
I guess the positive thing about this race is I did finish. I seriously wanted to give up a few times, my legs hurt so badly. As I was racing I knew that I was in 6th when I hit the single track, out of 7. The other woman never passed me but about half way through the second lap, a young kid came up behind me and told me he was the sweeper, and the other woman had dropped out. We chatted the rest of the way back, which really helped take my mind of the pain.
I ended up with a 6th place out of 7 starters. Another bad race at Fountainhead to add to my list, which includes my first bonk ever, 4 flat tires in one race and two broken chains in another (the only time I have ever broken a chain).
I am looking forward to Quantico and the SM 100. By then I should be recovered from vacation, and be able to reap the benefits of all that riding (another post sometime.)
Tires and Tubes – A Tale of Two Monkeys
Dave’s Race Report & Product Review
The Dirt Crit Cranky Monkey – Aug. 6
I’ve had a few semi-slick MTB tires gathering dust in my basement for years. They saw me through my first adult bike race, the 2001 Cyclocross Super Cup in Baltimore. I was riding a $300 MTB and had no idea what I was doing. The tires, however, did just fine. Last Sunday’s Cranky Monkey Dirt Crit seemed like the perfect time for the semi slicks to reappear.
The semi slicks raised eyebrows at the start, but performed great. I had no problems charging up the gravel hill at the start. (OK, no more problems than usual). They rolled well, gripped through the turns, and kept me in control on the big downhill. They even held tight on the edge of the trail as fellow 41-year old family man Chris Clarke lapped me on his road to victory. I wheezed out a 12 of 16 finish in the 35+ group. The fault was not in my tires, but in myself.
———
The Fountainhead Cranky Monkey – Aug. 13
One week later, I squarely blame my lackluster performance on my tires, not myself. For the technical trails of Fountainhead, I returned my semislicks to the basement and reinstalled my standard knobby tires, Panaracer Fire XCs I think. My 35+ race started well. I entered the singletrack slightly behind the lead pack and was starting to pass folks one-by-one. Just before the first steep, root-filled downhill I felt something was wrong. I pulled aside and found I had TWO flat tires. I don’t know what happened. I was riding relatively smoothly and not going for extreme air. My choice of 40 psi was a mistake. I watched EVERYONE pass me by while I changed both tubes. After another 10 minutes of riding, I saw the front tire wobbling all over the place. Part of the tire had rolled off the rim. No flat this time, but another stop to deflate/re-inflate my tire.
All of this stopping, starting, futzing and pumping had me flustered. I lost my mental race mojo. I was so far behind as I came down shockabilly hill, that the course marshal thought I was the 35+ leader. I had to slow down to explain that I REALLY did have one more lap to go. I regained a little composure on the second lap, and finished the race as many of the expert were coming in. BLECH. Now that my “bad race of the year” is out of the way, I look forward to a better day at the final Cranky Monkey at Quantico. See you there.
Dave
Long Drought Ends: Cranky Crit
For the first time since 2004, I finally won a bicycle race. Specifically, I won the 35+ race at the Cranky Monkey Dirt Crit on Sunday. Yippee.
A significantly smaller field than Cranky Monkey #1 lined up for this short course race. We were scheduled for 45 minutes plus one lap of the 1-1.5 mile mostly flat course. The weather was somewhat cooler than the first race but still unpleasantly hot and humid. I got a decent start and went into the single track around 5th. For a few laps, a duo from NCVC led the field. I moved onto the wheel of the lead NCVC rider after his teammate who had won Cranky Monkey #1 suffered a minor mechanical. I felt comfortable but realized that I needed to put in a big move to gap the leader. I was also worried that other riders were about to catch us up. When we hit the jeep trail, I dumped my gears and gave it as much gas as I had available hoping to build a big gap quickly and discourage hot pursuit. Apparently it worked. I never saw anyone behind me again. After another uneventful lap, I was delighted to see that there were only two laps to go and began to think that I could hold out until the finish. I kept the effort steady to avoid a last minute blow up or crash and rolled across the finish in first place.
Marc Gwadz finished 4th and Dave Vannier finished 12th to round out the DCMTB/CityBikes results in the 35+ class. Ricky D brought home 6th in the singlespeed category and Evan Ellicot and Matt Donahue were 2nd and 3rd in the big boy Expert class. Woo-hoo for the team.
Round three of the Cranky Monkey occurs August 13 and takes the course difficulty up a notch at Fountainhead.
WAW#3 Photos
Wednesday at Wakefield #3 Photos
Photos by Gary Ryan
raced in the single speed and in the clydesdale division on that day
giving me two different numbers
explaining two different bikes
Wednesday At Wakefield II (WAW#2)
summer rain post poned the second evening race at wakefield
having to head into work early the day of the race made it no issue getting out early to battle rush hour traffic to get from downtown dc to suburban virginia
managed to get out so early that I brought my camera along
had been wanting to take some pictures of some people at the races
wakefield was perfect as there as the early single speed class action to capture with the camera
I got there early enough to register and try and take some photos
was not sure where I wanted to be to get some shots so I just meandered about
at the end of lap one I witnessed the top four coming the line
it is always good competition in the single speed class
in addition to seeing the the riders blur by
there were also some people marching by
well, pedal shop’s nick daniels came strolling in with a front flat on his new and cool Kona single speed 29er
then evan came rolling along with one leg dragging as he spun by with one leg and a broken pedal
camps and cargo mike were top five
redlack looked top ten
I went into the woods for some of the tail end of lap two
it is a short lap and these guys were moving fast so it was not a long wait
the racers blurred by and showed me that I need to learn how to take action shots with my fancy camera
a few more failed photo attempts and it was time to focus on my race
focus on my race
I crack myself up
the bike was tunned
well, the bike was tunned and running well enough when I rode it several days prior
with no worries about having to touch anything up I jumped on my skid mark brown rigid surly karate monkey single speed and I warmed up for a few minutes
as I went up and down the powerliines I filled up on some energy drink that was being handed out at the start
then gathered with the clydesdales as scott scudamore gave some pre-race words over a megaphone that was not carrying as far back as the clydesdales line up
had considered asking to start before the sports
but… was not feeling like asking for special treatment
tried to accept the passing of the sport men as an exercise of the day
after all… this is not a time trial
the usual suspects stood at the line along with a few new faces
quiggley and junkins are out their racing themselves
and the others are unfamilar to me
tried not to focus on anything but myself
the scream of the megaphone starting things off with a surprise
on the gravel I anxiously pedalled, clicked in, and started up the loose climb
as I tried to find a hard packed like I was not feeling it
as I dropped in the singletrack towards the first stream crossing, I was not feeling it
over the man made stone path and then the boardwalk then into the singletrack
things were pretty fast and feeling dry
I started to get into it
thinking that so much energy is spent on trying to make a pass I thought about pace and tried to think about effiecient passing
just as I started enjoying the singletrack I was stuck in a line of racers
six or seven racers
I started to try to make polite and safe passes
some passes more polite
some passes more safe
some sections got frustrating
so passing just had to be done when it could be done
used the double track and the path along side the trail for passing when I could
lap two started with just as lap three ended
with transfer to transfer from one singletrack catepillar to single track catepillar
it is a tight course
passing is tight
never asking anyone to pull over and stop
but I am asking that they do not accelerate and close the gap as I am trying to make a move
lap two was going well enough
was frustrated with the passing
was having a good time with the course
was having a good time with the race
wakefield rocks
racing at wakefield rocks
early into the lap I was making a pass on the side of the double track that was a little less friendly
in a sloppy and strong way I blindly made my pass
trying to muscle my way past a number of riders before we entered the sandy singletrack along side of the creek
was able to pass another rider or two on the sandy single track
things got a little squishy in the sand
sort of sketched in the sand on the side of the creek and laughed at the excitement of it all
smiled and laughed as I accepted my front flat
like a fool I was riding bare back
no tools, no tube, and no pump
I ran a few steps frustrated that all the people I passed would get to pass me right back
there was no way I could run a lap and a half
so I pulled over and chatted with Mike Patissall
oddly I chatted with Mike in the same spot where we had chatted just a week and a half prior
it was that day that I was riding after dropping my dog off at the vet
I updated Mike on the death of my dog
then I gave Mike a line by line review of an article for SPOKES magazine that I had just written about Wakefield
after ten minutes of chatter I decided to accept Mike’s 26 inch tube for my 29 inch wheel and ride out the rest of the race
it was good to be back on the bike
it is always good to get on the bike
I should have put a little more air in the tube
it was a tad more squishy than I feel comfortable
but i was riding
and riding without a pump or a tube
flatting again was not an option
crashing was also not an option
as lap two finished and lap three started I felt good about the idea of not ending with a DNF
DNF is not an option
came to ride
with lap times I would have two of three laps to measure my efforts for the day
the last lap had its assortments of passes to make
caught a number of clydesdales… had fun passing quigley and junkins
enjoyed rolling with the fast and fluid leading sport women
accepted rolling at other’s racers’ paces
finished the lap
finished the race
felt confused with easy acceptance with quitting
felt good about overcoming my malaise
hope to get out to wakefield this wednesday
will try to get my head around the concept of the race
the notion that wakefield (or racing as a whole) should be fun can be a confusing way to approach things
testing one’s personal limits
personal best
trying to win
these things are fun
remember…
riding without pump, tube, and tools is like having sex without a condom
it may seem like it feels better
it may seem like more fun
but
you are really taking your chances
W@W #1/#2
By Matt
This was my first Wednesday at Wakefield after having missed the real first W@W due to a heavy workload back in early July.
My training plan calls for a big day on Wednesdays, so naturally this race fits the bill. However, last week my big day was a zero because skipped my normal morning ride to stay rested for W@W but then the rain came and washed my plans away. I normally join the Squadra Coppi team for their HON ride (Hills of North-Arlington) on Wednesdays which is a tough 4-hill sprint workout over about 1.5 hours. Yesterday’s weather called for 40% chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon, so I went to the Coppi ride hedging my bets so that if W@W got cancelled, I’d at least have a strong 2.5 hour workout in the AM. That set the stage for no rain and a tired me. I didn’t fuel up during the day very well, but was psyched to get back on dirt after several weeks of riding only on the road.
I Made the commute to Wakefield in a respectable 45 minutes (still can’t believe people do that every day). Warmed up for 20 min and lined up. I started blathering to Evan, pre-gaming with excuses as to why I would do poorly when the siren sounded.
We plowed up the gravel, I didn’t feel like I would die which was new for that start. I Was in a relatively good spot for much of lap one. I rode close to Kent for most of it, sometimes behind, sometimes in front. I did some friendly encouraging as some guys pulled away from us.
Then I ate it on a very easy flat curve in the straightaway along 495. The fall was fast and hard. I smacked the crap out of my knee and was bleeding. A blade of grass was stuck in the wound, I kept looking down “is that bone? is that bone?” no just grass, it didn’t hurt that bad. I caught back up to Kent and one of the other 5 people who passed me after I bailed.
After lap one, I started feeling tired. Not the ‘wow this is tough tired,’ rather the ‘yawny- I have no energy for this’ tired. I managed to stick with Kent for about 1/3 of the second lap. He egged me on with words of encouragement along the creek but I was cooked, and then I just cracked and dropped back. I blundered through the woods, and fell again on a switchback, SUPER lame. I just rolled off the bike and onto the ground like a goofball.
At some point I took off my super dark glasses because the woods sections were to dark for those. In a shaky ungainly way, I stuck the glasses into my rear jersey pocket. They’re gone now, if anyone finds some nice Smiths on the trails at Wakefield, hook me up? I rolled through laps 3 and 4 at an ‘endurance’ pace and finished happily in lucky 13th after 3 falls, a lost pair of sunglasses, a bloody knee and pleasant cruise through the woods.
I think it might be good to skip the Coppi ride next time, but then, what would my excuse be? Did I mention that I had a lot of fun? It was great riding with fellow CBers as well as the usual folks out there. Next week I’ll hit Killroy’s post race.
Just One of Those Days
by rickyd
I’m bumming. Last night was the second of the Wednesdays @ Wakefield races and I didn’t have a good run at it. I had high hopes for this race since I did fairly well for myself at the first of the series a month ago. Instead, I’m sporting a sore face, black and blue leg, scraped knee, but mostly, a bruised ego.
The start was crowded. Seems most folks have figured out a good holeshot usually means good endings because you don’t crowd up as much. The hillclimb that is supposed to string us all out, didn’t. We were clumped together tighter than a clusterf*ck. People were running into each other. Ten seconds into the race and it was already not going so good. I get cut off so badly on the right side that I veer all the way to the left to get around and I almost get taken out by a stationary pole in the middle of the trail.
Then two minutes into the race there was a crash on a short downhill where there was no option of riding off to the side, so guys started piledriving into each other. Someone rammed into me and I could hear the smashing of bodies and bikes. I didn’t look back. I just untangled from the mess, and sprinted to try to catch the lead pack. I spin my ass off in the stream section then pop out onto a fairly wide trail that will soon spit us back into the woods, followed by some tight singletrack with little opportunity to pass. This is my chance to get up there to contend.
I rev the legs up to get by as many people as I can. I pass one guy. Then another. When I tried to pass another guy on his right, he assumed folks were trying to pass on his left. He veered right. We locked bars. We both kersplatted on the trail. I took a digger with my face and chest.
We both jump up apologizing profusely. He for cutting me off, me for not giving warning. Neither of our faults. It’s racing. I get the wind knocked out of me so I hunch over my bars for a few seconds to catch my breath. I feel dripping on my face, wondering if it’s blood. I’ve had at least 30 stitches in my mug from
faceplants before. Wipe, look, and it’s clear. Just sweat. A quick glance over the rest of my parts and I notice I’m bleeding a bit from the knee. Whatever. Gotta keep moving.
I jump back on the bike. Ouch. Bruise and charlie horse, left leg. Must have hit it with the end of the Jones bar. I step off to massage it a little and get it moving again. I hop back on. Oh wait. Stem facing 30 degrees from North. Out comes the Allen wrench to straighten it out. I get it figured out quick and jump back on. Wait again. WTF? Major rubbing and bike won’t go. I hop off again and look at the rear wheel and spin it. Looks good. Wheel’s straight and brake pads didn’t shift out of place. Pick up the front and try to spin it. It doesn’t move. The tire is steadfastly held in place by the left fork leg. I unclamp the skewer, set the front of the bike down, and reclamp it. I noticed it shifted a lot. Good. No problems with it bumping out of true (or so I thought). Hop back on bike again and try to go. No dice. Wheel spun about a quarter turn and is stopped abruptly by the tire hitting fork again. I know what I have to do.
I take the wheel out, spin it briefly to find the high spots. I place it on the ground and step on the opposing sides of the wheel where the high spots are. I pick it up and spin it to see if it improved. Barely. I flip the wheel over and try the bounce-truing again on the high spots. I throw the wheel back into the fork, clamp down and try to take off. Tire still hitting fork solidly. Left leg cramps from where the bar struck it. Dammit! Race over. I hoof it back. The second DNF since I started racing a dozen years ago. Bummer.
Up next? The ORAMM (Off Road Assault on Mount Mitchell) down in North Carolina this Sunday. 11,000 feet of climbing in 55 miles. I did no research on this race, but for comparison’s sake, the SM100 is 14,000 feet of elevation in 100 miles. Just figured I have vacation and I might as well use it. Why not do a race 10 hours away? Heh.
I just hope my legs’re not smarting as much as they are right now. Three days to get over it and get the bike back in working order. Buck up, Ricky, buck up.
Beaten Eggs
Crank Brother pedals suck. Last night at the W@W race I had my 2nd encounter with a pedal coming off it’s spindle. Last year it was at a Cranky Monkey race with my Eggbeaters - this time with my Candy pedals. At least I was gorged like last year - a scar that remains on my calf to remind me to get rid of these things.
That said, although I only did one lap in the single speed race, the folks at Potomac Velo were sympathetic to my situation and let me jump in the expert race for free. Luckily, I had brought my road bike with me to work in case of another rain-out at Wakefield - at least I could still get a ride in and last week the Greenbelt race was a go despite the momentary thunderstorms. So with my road shoes strapped on and my speedplays mounted I road off into the proverbial sunset. It was brutally humid and I soon returned to the tropical-like canopy of the Wakefield trails. This time at least I finished and had the company of fellow CBers, Kent, Matt, Joel, and DT to suffer with.
Evan
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