A blog for and by a group of certifiable and committed cyclists (aka, Cyclopaths) from the Puyallup, Tacoma, and Seattle area. Follow The Puyallup Cyclopaths' adventures as they ride in the mountains of the Northwest and beyond.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Arlington Airport Cyclocross 2014 -- (By Dwaine)
The
Cyclocross Revolution's most North venue was at the Arlington Airport.
The airport is active but has various corners of the property that have
been used for cyclocross events in the past. My wife Deanne decided to
join me for this race as did our Lab mix Poppy.
Lots of yellow tape used to layout the
labyrinth of corners
This year the Cyclocross Revolution course designers were thrown a
curve ball for the Arlington event. Just a week before the event they
were asked to use a different part of the airport property than
originally planned. They were given a basically flat grass field that
just wasn't all that large. The course was mostly yellow tape
partitioned corners on the grass.
Just before heading out to preview the course I ran into Rob. He gave
me an idea what the course had in store. He warned me about the
imported sand section and also mentioned some short technical sections.
One of them, he said, was a slow but rideable corner through a ditch.
During my course preview I learned that many of the grassy courners
could be ridden without much need for braking nor accelerating if I
chose my line carefully. The imported sand was placed with enough lead
in straight that I could usually accelerate to speed, lift out of the
saddle to help the tires float, and then coast through. Then I got a
much better look at the real technical test on this course.
A short stretch of pavement progressed from flat to downhill. Near
the bottom the pavement changed from dry to wet to dirty before entering
the woods and a left turn with two separate lines. The inside line was
short while the outside line allowed a better approach to the runup.
After my preview I explained to Deanne that this might be the only real
technical part of the course. The changing traction conditions required
caution but I felt pretty good that I could charge flat track style into
that corner and use the inside line to make passes. Whoa! Now that's a trainer.
After course preview I mounted Blue Moon onto my trainer and
continued my warmup. Following Rob's guidelines from our previous chat I
planned to spin for 25 minutes. Those 25 minutes also included a couple
short efforts to get the heart rate up a little extra bit. I liked this
addition to my race day ritual as it gave me a little time to be inside
my own head.
My trainer is a Plain Jane magnetic trainer that always works but
sometimes makes an awful jet engine racket. The racer parked next to me
unloaded the coolest looking trainer I'd ever seen. He removed his rear
wheel and mounted the bike directly to the trainer which had it's own
cassette. Is 'trainer envy' a word?
As I prepared to get my warmup going Deanne and I chatted about what I
found on the course and I told her about the downhill being my only
strong point of the course. After preview I also reflected that Fort
Steilacoom may have been fast but that the power sucking soft grass and
ground would make this a tough course for me. We also chatted about
where best to watch from. It turns out she found a spot in the infield
where the course came close four times.
The start included the entire front straight which was probably the
bumpiest and softest portion of the course. I really hated this portion
of the course. Good news came in the form of a call up based on my
finish at Silver Lake. The starting line
Cyclocross is described as having a sprint that comes as the
beginning of the race instead of the end. In an effort to keep myself
together I pedalled hard off the line but just enough to keep me in the
top 10 going into the first set of corners. I quickly learned that I
could stay with the rider in front of me through the twisty tapes as
long as I had the room to freely choose my line going in and out of the
corners.
The first two laps went pretty smoothly and I stayed near the front.
During the second lap I realized I needed to ride my own pace and I let
the riders in front of me go.
On lap three my left foot did not release from the pedal going into
the double barriers. Fortunately I fell sideways through the tape and
not forward into the wooden barrier. By the time I was done uncleating,
becoming vertical, and reestablishing forward motion I had lost two or
three positions. The rest of the lap was filled with self talk. I was
tired. But I knew I could do better. I chanted 'relax, relax, rotate
foot' as I attempted regained my composure. This lap was about 15
seconds slower than my average.
I know how to wheel a bike around corners. I can pedal it well
enough. But lap three really demonstrated something I've known for a
while. My Cyclocross specific skills like dismounting, remounting, and
run-ups are still at a category four level while I'm racing against
category three riders.
From her prime viewing spot I got to see Deanne every lap. She
cheered me on but I did not hear the exact words over the sound of my
own breathing. I was hurting yet I always nodded or waived or at least
lifted some fingers to let her know I appreciated her attendance. Our
dog solemnly stared in the opposite direction.
This race was my first on tubulars. I've been testing, flatting, and
sealing this wheelset since September. With zero race condition data I
chose to go with 26 psi front and 29 psi rear. This seemed to give good
front to rear balance. During my sighting lap I found that the front
tire gave great feedback. From my roadracing days I learned to
appreciate tires that were predictable and let the rider know that side
bite traction was near it's limit instead of going from full grip to
full slip. The rear at 29 psi gave a smoother ride than the clinchers I
normally ride. It wasn't until the race, however, that I felt just how
much that rear tire was deforming. One set of sweeping turns was set up
on harder terrain that allowed a little more speed. Cornering over the
bumps while pedalling worked that rear tire hard. If felt like it might
roll right off the rim yet it just kept gripping. It felt odd. But it
sure worked. Short sweeping turns
Laps four and five were not special. I worked to keep my pace even.
Occasionally I would catch and pass a rider that was falling back from
the start before mine. And I was hurting. But not too much.
My lap times were pretty consistent with two exceptions. I worked
harder on the first lap and it fell about 15 seconds faster than my
average. I fell on the third lap and that lap was about 15 seconds
slower than my average. The other four laps were within ten seconds of
each other. I'm definately getting better at listening to my body during
the race.
Our class got six laps at Arlington. For me that meant almost
48 minutes of fun. It also meant I was looking forward to that last lap.
My breathing was under control as I started the final lap and I needed
to continue to keep my pace correct. The first third of the lap was
spent gliding through the taped grass corners and slowly closing the gap
on two riders in my class. As we approached the ditch I didn't feel I
could complete a pass. So I took it easy going into the ditch and closed
the gap coming out.
The next thirty seconds were soft grass and the two riders ahead were
a tiny bit faster. With just half a lap to go I started weighing my
options. These two were definately fitter. The finish straight would
play to them not me. Then we passed Deanne. Again our dog stared off
into space. And Deanne cheered. And most of her words were lost. But the
word 'hill' was not. The time and place to 'go' had arrived and Deanne
reminded me of it.
There were just two corners between my cheering section and the paved
downhill. Out of the saddle I closed the gap
and then powered down the hill. It wasn't pretty. I headed to the short
inside line, right leg arrow straight, bike definately crabbing
sideways, feathering the rear brake and kicking rocks onto my own bike
as my left foot skimmed the surface. When the two lines converged at the
bottom of the run-up I had them both in my back pocket. Then my cat 4
skillset showed itself again as I couldn't avoid a fallen rider's bike
while dismounting. A quick stop, apology, and lift got my bike over. By
the top of the run-up it looked like my plus two was lost but one
rider's remount went awry and cost him a second. I was on the other
rider's back tire.
My charge was not over. I watched the gap behind on the following flat paved
section and it stayed at one second. The paved section ended with two
long tecnical 180's that were good for me. I punched past the rider in
front of me going into the first of these two corners and gained another
second coming out of the second. Another good turn of fortune was that
between the two technical corners I caught and passed a rider not in my
class. This put a rider between me and my two rivals coming back into a
grass section. I kept the pace up. It felt good to get out of the saddle
and accelerate out of the grass turns. Then I caught and passed a
second rider not in my class just before entering the corkscrew.
The corkscrew, on retrospect, was one funky corner. It started as a
gradual right hander that turned the rider through 450 degrees. Thats
not a typo. Riders entered going North. Turned right until they were
going North again. Then turned an additional 90 degrees until they
headed East. The course literally wrapped around part of itself. Then
the riders turned left through 270 degrees until they were headed South.
Most of this corner was gradual. The exception was the last 90 degrees
of right and the first 90 degrees of left. These parts were tight and
slow. Most of the corkscrew was taken single file. Which was fine on the
last lap since I was leading my group.
I felt good going into the corkscrew. I had just passed two riders in
my class. I knew that passing the two riders not in my class could work
to my advantage. I was leading this quartet into the final minute of
the race. And there were a couple corners after the corkscrew I liked
before our group would settle it on the long grass finish straight.
I was ready to work for a gap before getting onto the straight. Once
through the tight section of the corkscrew I got out of the saddle and
BLAM. I was on the deck. I heard a metallic sound. More than a squink.
Just as I found terra firma. I had hit a rock I didn't see and it rolled
under my front tire enough to dump me. I heard a rider shout 'get up'. I
jumped back up and remounted with haste. But not before four bikes rode
past. I put in some effort and caught the last of the quartet at the
final corner. But I could not equal his finish line speed and trailed
him over the line.
My aggressive cornering sometimes gains me positions or allows me to
save energy. But at Arlington I crashed out of 8th to finish 10th in my
class.
I coasted to a stop, got off the course, and layed down on the ground. All that work. Wasted. On a rogue rock. This sand imported (from Belgium??) fresh
for this event
One observation I've made over the last year of CX racing is about
the designs on racer's jerseys. I think most riders are matching kits
that say something like "A graphic designer created me, I'm based on my
sponsor's nifty color palet, I'm sophisticated yet subdued." My Puyallup
Cyclopaths Jersey seems to scream "Look at me, I climb mountains, lots of
'em, Look at me!". Regardless of the the jersey's dialogue, my Puyallup
Cyclopaths jersey makes me easy to pick out of the crowd. Both during
the race and after.
The first racer to approach me after the race was Forest Murphy. He
said he stayed just 5 or 10 seconds in front of the group I finished in
most of the race and could often pick me out of the group due to my
jersey. He also said he was the third racer in my group at the Fort
Steilacoom race. He said "I don't know what happened. I was on your
wheel. Then there was a gap. I nearly closed the gap but then I was out
of gas". I admitted to him that I jumped pretty hard at Steilacoom to
create that very gap. We also talked about crashing. Forest does some
road racing and expressed that stepping off at ten miles an hour onto
grass is a lot less intimidating than stepping off at 45 miles per hour
onto pavement. I had to agree with that.
Then Mario found us. I introduced him to my wife as 'the guy that
broke his wheel' and we chatted about the bad luck he had at this years
Cyclopaths rides. (Frozen riders on Skate Creek and broken wheel on
Triple By-Pass). We also compared Cyclocross schedules and realized we
won't be at many of the same races due to his Northerly location and my
Southerly location. But it was nice to see Mario again and I told him we
would ride together again next Spring with better wheels and better
weather.
On the drive home I thought about my day's performance. My two
weaknesses were fitness and lack of speed through the barriers. I'm
continuing to train and beleive that I'm slowly getting stronger. But I
haven't practiced dismount/run/mount since last summer so that will need
to get into my schedule.
Sprinker is the next event on my CX calendar. Last year the course
suited me and maybe I'll have another good showing this year. Either
way, I'll tell you all about it right here.
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