tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41001767238124701932024-03-18T23:51:01.157-04:00Bill Lueckebill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-34558466093857789552023-11-21T14:48:00.001-05:002023-11-21T14:50:22.751-05:00DIY carbon repair<h2 style="text-align: left;">Backstory</h2><p>In 2016 I crashed my 2013 Sworks with 2km to go at Masters 50+ Nationals when someone slid up between me and another rider and took my rear derailleur off. The major problem from that incident was tremendous sciatica, which turned me in to "The Falls Church Night Weirdo" for the entire summer. But in addition to my piriformis muscle , the seat stay was also damaged. The drive-side seatstay crack had been growing for years, while I monitored it. By Spring 2021 it was large enough to affect the shifting, and I retired the bike. I had already had it repaired once before in 2015, after an Artemis guy chopped me at the Tour of Page Valley, and either my heel or the heel of the guy I fell on cracked the chainstay. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihd1y7kBPPZwddtHMJO-m6PF_8Is3c4sNJRR-HxqEn34a24wC3HlHXtdhwGAAN4gmnyyh5ZvbHQCsDgQaG1BYsmymQ_5TkXaqPxfyeARW5pCB6Gg8AYdm0IoHfvhTK9ZlA9n3KTmMSXvN0Q5qiCP1iLnuWPx1kgdfuNltnc3CNaaC5AHVyBbBsf1Bo-WMF/s4032/PXL_20231104_175621480.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="broken seat stay" border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihd1y7kBPPZwddtHMJO-m6PF_8Is3c4sNJRR-HxqEn34a24wC3HlHXtdhwGAAN4gmnyyh5ZvbHQCsDgQaG1BYsmymQ_5TkXaqPxfyeARW5pCB6Gg8AYdm0IoHfvhTK9ZlA9n3KTmMSXvN0Q5qiCP1iLnuWPx1kgdfuNltnc3CNaaC5AHVyBbBsf1Bo-WMF/w400-h300/PXL_20231104_175621480.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crack in the seat stay extended about 2/3 of the way around.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Since the frame was a writeoff at this point, a repair attempt seemed like an entertaining retirement project. As everyone does, I watched about twenty youtube videos on DIY carbon-fiber repair. I ended up buying a kit from Predator Carbon: <a href="https://predatorcycling.com/products/carbon-repair-kit" target="_blank">https://predatorcycling.com/products/carbon-repair-kit</a> , mostly because their videos had seemed useful. I actually bought the individual components instead of their pre-packaged kit, because it was only 3/4 the cost. </div><div><br /></div><div>All the repair kits I have seen from various sources are similar. Mine had three components:</div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>a strip of 2x2 twill-weave carbon fiber 150 mm x 1300 mm,</li><li>75 ml of resin with catalyst, and </li><li>2 m of industrial heat-shrink tape.</li></ol><div>The third component is the "secret sauce" that makes the whole process work for the neophyte end user. The heat-shrink tape provides the compression over the fiber layup to squeeze out the excess resin and compact the layers.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>The kits represent a big markup over the marginal cost of materials, but most carbon fiber suppliers only sell in much larger, and ultimately wasteful, volumes. My experience was that the 75 ml of resin is sufficient for four or five repairs. And it has a very finite shelf life, so buying a 4 liters just means that 3.9 liters will go to the solid waste transfer station.</div><div><br /></div><div>I practiced once using Marc Klein's Cannondale that Pete Lindeman had given me. I smashed the top tube on the concrete steps and then patched it. After the resin had cured, I sawed a section of the tube out from the repair and verified that the patched area didn't contain unconsolidated fiber/resin. </div><div><br /></div><div>For the Sworks Chainstay repair, I opted for a simple three-layer overwrap, instead of attempting to create a scarf joint. The resulting repair will be a bulge like a recently healed broken leg, but more layers seem safer than a more attractive repair. </div><h2 style="text-align: left;">The Repair</h2><div>First I removed the clearcoat by hand sanding 5 cm on either side of the crack. </div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6IjMlgE7kj9YEEESjqzO5LIconLVHMGruU5k26Hctf4AUHLH-Oh-pAoiKqr8Atnho9qIkwxwzVYZ7PHPtHH6xPqh0CVuT3lczilLbID5Q8kFWItux6B4gJNAMCEfmTMSgfomC8S_62oY5nx9W_1yhw0XtjRQfxA0W0R7M4u9PWXVKu6-8xyW7sBa3dCJ/s4032/PXL_20231104_181542538.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Crack with the clear coat removed." border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6IjMlgE7kj9YEEESjqzO5LIconLVHMGruU5k26Hctf4AUHLH-Oh-pAoiKqr8Atnho9qIkwxwzVYZ7PHPtHH6xPqh0CVuT3lczilLbID5Q8kFWItux6B4gJNAMCEfmTMSgfomC8S_62oY5nx9W_1yhw0XtjRQfxA0W0R7M4u9PWXVKu6-8xyW7sBa3dCJ/w400-h300/PXL_20231104_181542538.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crack with the clear coat removed, and prepped for an overwrap. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Mixing the resin and catalyst is straightforward by weight: 3.5:1 . I used the triple-beam balance that I rescued off the loading dock of Bard Hall 35 years ago. <br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RALuvW6vF9IDpWbqT6I5EBx9peX67gaYdBIyqfaEYoQeLint-cI2K2K5su9eyV6cd4iC3G4onebIxHQIg2yagQGGZam6Zj8mJHq933m1UCwavKN94agJSjv8szXORMVPMiNB_qw2ND_M_ErkI1QsuxzmqADMruUbZte4IQImAuABJQCqr2k59mJTfq6s/s4032/PXL_20231104_184214455.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RALuvW6vF9IDpWbqT6I5EBx9peX67gaYdBIyqfaEYoQeLint-cI2K2K5su9eyV6cd4iC3G4onebIxHQIg2yagQGGZam6Zj8mJHq933m1UCwavKN94agJSjv8szXORMVPMiNB_qw2ND_M_ErkI1QsuxzmqADMruUbZte4IQImAuABJQCqr2k59mJTfq6s/w400-h300/PXL_20231104_184214455.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The twill-weave carbon fiber cut to size, and the components ready to weigh out. I mixed them with a recycled Trader Joe's popsicle stick in a used a carry-out sauce container . <br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I masked the area of the seat stay with painters tape and electrical tape, and I wrapped the entire frame in newspaper and garbage bags, which is important, because the resin runs out and drips everywhere. One of the videos suggested tacking the end of the carbon fiber sheet in place using partially cured (40 minutes) resin, so I did that. <div><br /></div><div>Before wrapping, I staged the the correct length of heat shrink tape by taping it to one size of the repair area, so it would be quick to just wrap it around. </div><div><br /></div><div>With the resin and catalyst mixed, I painted the whole exposed section of the seat stay with resin using a plumber's acid brush and started wrapping the carbon fiber sheet, while simultaneously painting more resin onto the new layer. The entire repair was three layers of sheet, which makes a repair about 1.0 mm thick.</div><div><br /></div><div>With everything in place, I spiral wrapped the heat-shrink tape like a handlebar, overlapping about 50 % of the tape on each wrap. Then I taped the end with electrical tape and hit the whole area with the heat gun for about 90 s. As the tape shrunk, it squeezed out the excess resin, which I (mostly) wiped up with a shop towel. Some dripped on the floor, unfortunately. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqQbVchdF_nLZCE6GZUc8vTByxHo8dRUm1sJA6gvliTW96fZLazjhH4YyKat3YKJUjM9I_axL6XkXe3RKhyiDTppnq9tn_ePR6GiEEH54B2yRjFWXMecKPTz_ShmA-2mBu5QxNXeUnQvI1UR2jpqtCDxbiONn9epOBcfVpswYrAzB2LKmCgFG8YNpKS9T/s4032/PXL_20231104_192414079.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqQbVchdF_nLZCE6GZUc8vTByxHo8dRUm1sJA6gvliTW96fZLazjhH4YyKat3YKJUjM9I_axL6XkXe3RKhyiDTppnq9tn_ePR6GiEEH54B2yRjFWXMecKPTz_ShmA-2mBu5QxNXeUnQvI1UR2jpqtCDxbiONn9epOBcfVpswYrAzB2LKmCgFG8YNpKS9T/w400-h300/PXL_20231104_192414079.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The repair after the tape had shrunk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>I let the resin cure for 48 hours before stripping the heat-shrink tape and then lightly sanding it with 320 grit paper. I plan to just clear coat the repair with automotive clear coat, because the resin is known to be UV sensitive. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HVhqTLNuHPRslr_TehVvQEuq2UDWk-Llicfhlkq5MbX6YybGwdTT8C4crmSd-5Odt-N0yYc8f7H5re8r5JyzWaQdwwwrwv1o2F1WJjwVx0ze94edtezneidU7uEvLs5fjS2VSPLHd5J_nYyqqbKwLPEihWnG1GM1Y_kvZ-6wVFDx_q8joRhIqHs34W8O/s4032/PXL_20231121_194530635.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HVhqTLNuHPRslr_TehVvQEuq2UDWk-Llicfhlkq5MbX6YybGwdTT8C4crmSd-5Odt-N0yYc8f7H5re8r5JyzWaQdwwwrwv1o2F1WJjwVx0ze94edtezneidU7uEvLs5fjS2VSPLHd5J_nYyqqbKwLPEihWnG1GM1Y_kvZ-6wVFDx_q8joRhIqHs34W8O/w480-h640/PXL_20231121_194530635.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The completed repair before clear coating. </td></tr></tbody></table><h2 style="text-align: left;">Postscript</h2><div>Of course, the proof will be whether it survives being ridden..</div>bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-39280137323908697942023-09-05T16:50:00.003-04:002023-09-11T17:18:04.360-04:002023 Vermont bike tour<p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">Overall impressions<br /></h2><div><div>Very few breathtaking views presented themselves, but almost every minute of every day was tremendously scenic. Or maybe everything Vermont was just so green and beautiful that no low points existed to make beautiful parts seem spectacular.</div><div><br /></div><div>The parade of tiny towns represented a dramatic contrast to Northern Virginia, with its year-on-year and fill-in development. Some population and geographic data really illustrate this conclusion. Essex County has fewer residents than my neighborhood in an area 1.5 times the size of all of Fairfax county.</div><div><br /></div><div>No real low points really occurred. Day four was tiring, but not anywhere near the despair level. </div></div><div>Population changes 1972-2021</div><table>
<tbody><tr><th>County/State </th><th>Area</th><th> Population</th><th> Population </th></tr>
<tr><td> </td><td>mi^2</td><td align="right">1972</td><td align="right"> 2021 </td></tr>
<tr><td>Vermont </td><td align="right">9616</td><td align="right"> 460K </td><td align="right"> 646K </td></tr>
<tr><td>Fairfax County </td><td align="right">406 </td><td align="right"> 454K </td><td align="right">1.14M </td></tr>
<tr><td>Caledonia County </td><td align="right">658 </td><td align="right"> 24K </td><td align="right"> 30.5K </td></tr>
<tr><td>Essex County </td><td align="right">675 </td><td align="right"> 5600 </td><td align="right"> 5900 </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Essex county peaked at 6500 in 2002
<p>
</p><h2 style="text-align: left;">The Crew</h2><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XnNsO_HtD_S3e5fRkg0na2QA3Jy0dfnRw4hZMmVan398_PNGMqp_rbqDaFFSk-_AjnB8KbWla8c_oGruWw7S7bR-xy2un4Fb5OFaeSTlKZDLJO6S0mIYae528xPCjk4YREtobsaacwkFfiq8u70T1fViRqTITws-v8hqJWucHQy5qiuGqIHGNayCyFP6/s4032/IMG_1843.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XnNsO_HtD_S3e5fRkg0na2QA3Jy0dfnRw4hZMmVan398_PNGMqp_rbqDaFFSk-_AjnB8KbWla8c_oGruWw7S7bR-xy2un4Fb5OFaeSTlKZDLJO6S0mIYae528xPCjk4YREtobsaacwkFfiq8u70T1fViRqTITws-v8hqJWucHQy5qiuGqIHGNayCyFP6/w400-h300/IMG_1843.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>Left to Right: Bill Erickson, Bill Luecke ("green bill"), Gil Menda, Vanessa McCaffery, Bob Nunnink, Ernie Bayles.</div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Tech</h2>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">Bike</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtYQ_SuLNkboOPQO9pwt1xsmslElAd3XMEmZo5MmTIvid3pBV6wbfNoam4tlssGhdtqZkaNIarmUV3hA3RO0VERH1TRqIwfX79zXg2u6bX13j-epX69Xswz579FgvujoIfJFp9Qv11USmiR7JP20MwQhhihxPrW_itk3AD1pF9afcLV5lM2NOyUEuQRwd/s4032/PXL_20230819_131659351.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtYQ_SuLNkboOPQO9pwt1xsmslElAd3XMEmZo5MmTIvid3pBV6wbfNoam4tlssGhdtqZkaNIarmUV3hA3RO0VERH1TRqIwfX79zXg2u6bX13j-epX69Xswz579FgvujoIfJFp9Qv11USmiR7JP20MwQhhihxPrW_itk3AD1pF9afcLV5lM2NOyUEuQRwd/w400-h300/PXL_20230819_131659351.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>I used the same 40+ year-old racing frame with cantilever brakes that I have used on trips for the last decade. I was the only participant on cantilevers. Loaded, the bike was almost 50 lbs. </div><div><br /></div><div>I splurged for some "gravel-specific" Ortlieb Gravel-Pack front panniers so that I didn't have to pack everything waterproof bags. The front rack was also a new low-rider Axiom Journey DLX. The old rack made the panniers hit the arms of the cantilever brakes.</div><div>Gearing was 26-38-48 with an 8-speed 13-30. I used the 26/30 frequently. Because 8 and 9-speed cassettes are the same, a useful upgrade would be to go to 9-speed, which the 90's-vintage bar-end shifters could still handle it. For this trip, I removed the drop-out adjusting screws, which allowed me to squeeze in a 38 mm Specialized Trigger sport tire, albeit with only about 3-mm clearance to the chainstays. Broken spokes would be an existential threat.</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Rack: Axiom journey DLX <a href="https://www.axiomgear.com/products/racks/low-rider-racks/journey-dlx-lowrider/">https://www.axiomgear.com/products/racks/low-rider-racks/journey-dlx-lowrider/</a></li><li>Panniers: Ortlieb Gravel pack <a href="https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/gravel-pack+F9982">https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/gravel-pack+F9982</a></li></ul><div>Equipment upgrades for the future</div></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Switch to a 9-speed 11-34 cassette.</li><li>Retape bars with double tape or silicone padding. </li></ul></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">Gear</h3><div>Not including the bags, the gear plus Clif bars and Gu weighed about 18 lbs. I can't think of any way to reduce the weight without sacrificing important equipment. Fully loaded the bike came in at 50 lbs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_konfA7JGjNh_94pGrin1TLPLSuinVdMJy2qZafd5gdwwTK6W4sXbslTZKevXf3FW_tzVpcillbCDLOrFu-mICZru-pPhlq7XLh2USDKeWkz1w71cnNXpH6ze-ELaOSiuV8h8-16z1WylsF20-MJS1hSJxO9kCsXLtYNZV1KW2_7Y8cBacC1nRjZZ6ISW/s4032/PXL_20230817_190803591.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_konfA7JGjNh_94pGrin1TLPLSuinVdMJy2qZafd5gdwwTK6W4sXbslTZKevXf3FW_tzVpcillbCDLOrFu-mICZru-pPhlq7XLh2USDKeWkz1w71cnNXpH6ze-ELaOSiuV8h8-16z1WylsF20-MJS1hSJxO9kCsXLtYNZV1KW2_7Y8cBacC1nRjZZ6ISW/w300-h400/PXL_20230817_190803591.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div>This time I remembered to bring a two-port charger.</div><div>I used every piece of gear I had in the bags.</div><div>I replaced my stinky, crusty moccasins with some ultralight Xero Z-trail sandals. They only weigh 284 g/pair, and they seem like you could walk some distance in them. The tread tended to pick up mud, though.</div><div>Link: <a href="https://xeroshoes.com/shop/sandals/ztrail-men/">https://xeroshoes.com/shop/sandals/ztrail-men/</a></div><h4 style="text-align: left;">Gear limitations and replacements</h4><div>Some gear should be added or replaced, including</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>a proper, consumer-grade, battery backup. The freebie I stole from Sandra would not charge my phone,</li><li>a free-standing tent with a proper fly. The amount of condensate on the flyless Sierra Design tent did not fill me with confidence that it would function in the rain,</li><li>a lightweight down jacket for mornings and evenings. The gray fleece I added at the last minute was barely enough.</li></ul></div>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Performance<br /></h2><div>The day-to-day performance degradation was not as severe as on the 2021 Catskills trip, but every day the maximum HR decreased. What would happen on a ten-day trip? I might be dead at the end...</div><div><br /></div>
<table>
<tbody><tr><td> Day </td><td>HRmax </td><td>Vmax </td><td>Distance </td><td>Elevation </td></tr>
<tr><td> </td><td> bpm </td><td>km/h </td><td> km </td><td> m </td></tr>
<tr><td> 0 </td><td> 162 </td><td>73.2 </td><td> 53.7 </td><td> 724 </td></tr>
<tr><td> 1 </td><td> 159 </td><td>73.8 </td><td> 105.4 </td><td> 1084 </td></tr>
<tr><td> 2 </td><td> 156 </td><td>68.2 </td><td> 93.4 </td><td> 1392 </td></tr>
<tr><td> 3 </td><td> 152 </td><td>68.3 </td><td> 107.4 </td><td> 1325 </td></tr>
<tr><td> 4 </td><td> 146 </td><td>67.8 </td><td> 115.6 </td><td> 1561 </td></tr>
<tr><td> 5 </td><td> 142 </td><td> 61 </td><td> 49.1 </td><td> 981 </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The camera doesn't lie: I've developed quite a beer gut this year...</div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Day-by-Day Reports</h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 0: Poultney, Vt to Poultney, Vt</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf-EqJKPcN6jzZaoWKPTarZJIO_4oXBJJffyn2DKKFxxtN1uNZtMr0IcIvqvMjx8ktpyL-JQzWty3U50Ra63s5XDUQhJqx2XSLs6brJWUMBp5NoPbL5YnvZ9O0BqRDUZjkvdF-wpeiGFxjVGsAzt4p-z-vb2Re-BgD1WEN5fEbnegZ3IZ9DKmY5ANLpHb/s1044/Day-0.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="1044" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf-EqJKPcN6jzZaoWKPTarZJIO_4oXBJJffyn2DKKFxxtN1uNZtMr0IcIvqvMjx8ktpyL-JQzWty3U50Ra63s5XDUQhJqx2XSLs6brJWUMBp5NoPbL5YnvZ9O0BqRDUZjkvdF-wpeiGFxjVGsAzt4p-z-vb2Re-BgD1WEN5fEbnegZ3IZ9DKmY5ANLpHb/s320/Day-0.png" width="320" /></a></div><div>After lunch we stopped at Poultney High School for a shakedown ride that was primarily characterized by map checks and wrong turns. After one long and wrong descent, we found Ames Hollow Rd, our first Class 4 road. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGPUgYoysYMPU0j98r9WK2yhjgcG2Rq1l8Ldt0M__ukmhrW_6IzG-eLnx2tyYfgH0l25xN62ZLFHQHw_t0m0tkJ7t7FIY_xhVJKgnYILnG7JmpkBeLxBmklDmeq3gH11aUn9LJd4JMchUOSQZMdMfZjAh5anxGY-VKjw2JayKD_83mM8h34f3D3gUn35z/s4032/PXL_20230820_194127173.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGPUgYoysYMPU0j98r9WK2yhjgcG2Rq1l8Ldt0M__ukmhrW_6IzG-eLnx2tyYfgH0l25xN62ZLFHQHw_t0m0tkJ7t7FIY_xhVJKgnYILnG7JmpkBeLxBmklDmeq3gH11aUn9LJd4JMchUOSQZMdMfZjAh5anxGY-VKjw2JayKD_83mM8h34f3D3gUn35z/s320/PXL_20230820_194127173.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Vermont defines a Class 4 road as one that is not maintained by the town. This one was pretty much all rideable. <div>We stayed at the Greensboro camp of Ernie's sister Jenny, which the family had built starting in about 1964, and now comprises several A-frames and a two-story house. <br /><div><br /></div><div>
Link: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733313120" target="_blank">Day 0 Route</a></div>
<h3>Day 1 Greensboro to Lake Carmi</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6rOHOdHAi0N__KFmNEJH9Zx0NXWwqXldTbhSSbanQj8vFKyBqxjhVp5yIokTHBNQi1gTZea3WSHJXDBN7lBS8MWDu2IIJY2CR53VuPZf0S3izsUteWUy0RwRfdW1UJWBimOQRUaNr0bZ94Z9pjsDLph9-QZD3K8FCkdzlCg9crnshfRbDl0QXmVzs8V-/s1035/Day-1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="1035" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6rOHOdHAi0N__KFmNEJH9Zx0NXWwqXldTbhSSbanQj8vFKyBqxjhVp5yIokTHBNQi1gTZea3WSHJXDBN7lBS8MWDu2IIJY2CR53VuPZf0S3izsUteWUy0RwRfdW1UJWBimOQRUaNr0bZ94Z9pjsDLph9-QZD3K8FCkdzlCg9crnshfRbDl0QXmVzs8V-/s320/Day-1.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpsH9PD8TBEkcdMY1FjUHOJspMvlTaf5AyOvba2foGd8Y8HfI1RMCarP-KcYnxJtb4jJEH57wvM0yydjfhov3IJIOJ3A_UGQX8wsy_gE_r5MsFmSLgqzU98GSUCCd9BT9O8s2leEbHhdMQJGx2d-U32Q0hh-iyoHDkZB2Pptot7bbHkd7aBrKGi8huYYZ/s4032/PXL_20230821_231608206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpsH9PD8TBEkcdMY1FjUHOJspMvlTaf5AyOvba2foGd8Y8HfI1RMCarP-KcYnxJtb4jJEH57wvM0yydjfhov3IJIOJ3A_UGQX8wsy_gE_r5MsFmSLgqzU98GSUCCd9BT9O8s2leEbHhdMQJGx2d-U32Q0hh-iyoHDkZB2Pptot7bbHkd7aBrKGi8huYYZ/s320/PXL_20230821_231608206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>We followed the Revolutionary-war <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayley_Hazen_Military_Road">Bayley-Hazen Road</a> for much of the day, including a trip over Hazen's notch. The Bayley-Hazen road was the first road in northern Vermont. The route over the notch follows Vermont Rt 58, which is a dirt road. Amusingly, while I was waiting at the top, I chatted with a driver with New York license plates who stopped to complain that "How is this a dirt road!?" </div><div>After Montgomery, we had a bit of dissent at the Longley bridge, and we bypassed the dirt road for a straight shot to the Missisquoi rail trail, the former Central Vermont RR, in East Berkshire.</div><div>Dinner was at a food truck in Enosburg Falls.</div><div>I never felt terrible during the ride but I also never felt great. </div><div>Campsite: Lake Carmi site 11 on the lake. </div><div>Fun fact. Sometime between 1922 and 1926 Lake Carmi was upgraded from being named "Franklin Pond." </div><div><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733318171" target="_blank">Day 1 Route</a></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br />
</p>
<h3>Day 2 Lake Carmi to Newport</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQ46qZMHzC-m32AncliHo30iOaQm0EJDsCsybs7d2M__gXe0qUCMrv2YuqCqQQQ4pk3zC_Y1-vs-18kYTw939ekoO5GcAF4p8aOR-j8gyD6vPmQaisAIX8hM9LkX3SmACYjfGYYKNfKTalN5DHZDQwTsn9PbfoM6vcg6kT-N87FtTxYmpueTgLZn5y_0t/s1037/Day-2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="1037" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQ46qZMHzC-m32AncliHo30iOaQm0EJDsCsybs7d2M__gXe0qUCMrv2YuqCqQQQ4pk3zC_Y1-vs-18kYTw939ekoO5GcAF4p8aOR-j8gyD6vPmQaisAIX8hM9LkX3SmACYjfGYYKNfKTalN5DHZDQwTsn9PbfoM6vcg6kT-N87FtTxYmpueTgLZn5y_0t/s320/Day-2.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2EOhk_DXGTmRZHZxzp9Bcy2n48dcZfzHFeY7cY7HbibwYY9gBdAx7Yn7RzUce98qOcSsHKUlM96qlkSXzZ81MI2ZuB7RF4g4O6VKBEaEnZm42qrof68k4fnf6OVIr_FKZf0xhKyslw2rJDLHdEZVh8AAU-OSXU5LAQUqYtvJN-NILYDxx8pcZAWJiwhi/s3264/PXL_20230822_160814609.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2EOhk_DXGTmRZHZxzp9Bcy2n48dcZfzHFeY7cY7HbibwYY9gBdAx7Yn7RzUce98qOcSsHKUlM96qlkSXzZ81MI2ZuB7RF4g4O6VKBEaEnZm42qrof68k4fnf6OVIr_FKZf0xhKyslw2rJDLHdEZVh8AAU-OSXU5LAQUqYtvJN-NILYDxx8pcZAWJiwhi/s320/PXL_20230822_160814609.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The US/Canada monument on Richford Slide Rd. We're in Canada now!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div>We headed out north from Lake Carmi, and then along the US/Canada border for most of the day. Some fraction of all the traffic we encountered comprised US Customs and Border Protection jeeps. We stopped for lunch in Richford, and then spent the next 1/2 hour riding back and forth on the two roads in Richford trying to find the proposed route. One consolation was the road fingernail clipper (#3 of 2023) I spotted on the second pass, although Vanessa got the quarter I passed twice. In the end, we went down Corliss Rd, which unfortunately did not connect and had not connected for at fifty years. So it was back to Richford for the third time. </div><div>On Richford Slide Rd we made a 300-yard detour into Canada when the road crossed the border and then reentered the US. The only indication was a 3-foot granite monument inscribed with Canada and United States. Apparently the border was a lot more chill in the past.</div><div>I perked up on the climb over the pass north of Jay Peak. Ice cream in North Troy also helped, but I was still glad to get to get to the Prouty Beach campground in Newport. Weirdly, we traded our reserved, expensive, not-ideal bare site with lake view for a less-expensive wooded site.</div><div>Dinner was at the only open restaurant in Newport. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733326197" target="_blank">Day 2 Route</a></div>
<h3> Day 3 Newport to John McGill's cabin in Victory</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECwYQN68QKPr_QSIyRgVaI31wEWFySQRcIjN9s2DFsUJUdf6Ti4FYNaiusQNSl4uvBBksuFLFdWQhaVNA4Cdqa3B7vO_bWP_Iopjqoy8VDbz8hYq48klldgRzdasZ44dkH6poVV23_HlpIhxKvfGjj0qcfshfuQo4OUzy1t0gkv5nVaaV5VKnr7D1KK7z/s1034/Day-3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="1034" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECwYQN68QKPr_QSIyRgVaI31wEWFySQRcIjN9s2DFsUJUdf6Ti4FYNaiusQNSl4uvBBksuFLFdWQhaVNA4Cdqa3B7vO_bWP_Iopjqoy8VDbz8hYq48klldgRzdasZ44dkH6poVV23_HlpIhxKvfGjj0qcfshfuQo4OUzy1t0gkv5nVaaV5VKnr7D1KK7z/w400-h199/Day-3.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2Sjw5hdvGhkhb9RS98sQsZUL8ccih0Vha-3zr7Mv_Uvfeq6fkHYBdk1UPgyktQWmEJfMbXWWVyJSo5Zp_fITzp40ZFnjIW8GZWMOlvyY6obVSJ6vl6JsyVX1eqY4bxIYX8JkEDLTgsJ6TBTrSqiK79NJf3hpm7eo9Dt3wIkMe0cyVbPr_mKXcvqYvWGa/s4032/IMG_1902.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2Sjw5hdvGhkhb9RS98sQsZUL8ccih0Vha-3zr7Mv_Uvfeq6fkHYBdk1UPgyktQWmEJfMbXWWVyJSo5Zp_fITzp40ZFnjIW8GZWMOlvyY6obVSJ6vl6JsyVX1eqY4bxIYX8JkEDLTgsJ6TBTrSqiK79NJf3hpm7eo9Dt3wIkMe0cyVbPr_mKXcvqYvWGa/w400-h300/IMG_1902.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Border Station in Beebe Plain (photo credit Bob Nunnink)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UE90rODKcUHHgNAGpC5J5s8ATmTHKQqE3YTSYjqQXFahLo5GxJz-iNyxtgB6wgqHkGGLBWcaLB_vYErfuQqHsyluDbyqHMXwAOyZJsCQS5uCrc4xiECaYUm76O7S41S29_UUdgGpI-P6SrW-GVBOPdfGv4hjruo59Et1R1f5zWamSptTDVbOo8Q7xZ1C/s4032/IMG_1925.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UE90rODKcUHHgNAGpC5J5s8ATmTHKQqE3YTSYjqQXFahLo5GxJz-iNyxtgB6wgqHkGGLBWcaLB_vYErfuQqHsyluDbyqHMXwAOyZJsCQS5uCrc4xiECaYUm76O7S41S29_UUdgGpI-P6SrW-GVBOPdfGv4hjruo59Et1R1f5zWamSptTDVbOo8Q7xZ1C/w400-h300/IMG_1925.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our gracious host, John McGill ready to ride on Day 4</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZ9ws4MmCFNCsqMxfTQXUYUOY29bkhC0YG8nFOwLLn9ctNkEacO6YpLNatwM7rrAcdcMK7hz3p0x7LCw7psKSpwoin7Sc1xidlr7itEcdG-H-e-uNPyRagqB67zNL5SJMCdZ74V5bo3Qd5IrIfK8r3E_rglgiSYoH_NfL1GrcyY8ag6vMi5Tb5NG_8VKQ/s4032/IMG_9342.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZ9ws4MmCFNCsqMxfTQXUYUOY29bkhC0YG8nFOwLLn9ctNkEacO6YpLNatwM7rrAcdcMK7hz3p0x7LCw7psKSpwoin7Sc1xidlr7itEcdG-H-e-uNPyRagqB67zNL5SJMCdZ74V5bo3Qd5IrIfK8r3E_rglgiSYoH_NfL1GrcyY8ag6vMi5Tb5NG_8VKQ/w400-h300/IMG_9342.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John's primitive cabin</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Back in July, I had reached out to John McGill about routes in the NE kingdom. John and I had met twenty years before, mostly racing at Greenbelt Park in the middle of the week. He offered the use of his primitive cabin at his camp on Victory Hill. It was a bit of an unknown--we only had some interior photos to judge. John created and administers a private foundation mountain bike trail system, which was just adjacent to his cabin. He also suggested some routes to the east of Victory Hill. </div><div><div><br /></div><div>The day started with a bit of chaos, as some wanted to stop at the Wendy's for breakfast sausage and more coffee. Apparently only the drive-through was open, but that situation was not obvious for almost twenty minutes. Only Bill E. and Gil managed to activate the sensor and order. I just jammed down a Clif bar. I suppose that this staffing problem is part of the "great resignation." None of the delay really bothered me, which I think is a good sign of my much-more-chill outlook on time and dates.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>We rode north out of Newport on the Newport-Derby rail trail that was part of the Boston and Maine RR, to Derby.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't realize that once we left the trail for the road that we were only a few hundred yards from the Canadian border. and the</div><div>border station. </div><div><br /></div><div>The border station in Beebe Plain was also curious. Getting in to the US was like going through the Wendy's drive-through, but the way out of the US was blocked by a drop-down metal security barricade. I wanted to take some pictures, but thought that it would just get me in trouble. The postoffice lady yelled at me for blocking the ramp, as if I couldn't figure out how to get out of the way. A post-ride map check showed that all the houses whose driveway onto "Rue Canusa" in Canada are all actually in the US, and the border goes down the middle of the road, but on the other side of the border station.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Derby Line Rd I managed to run into Bob while trying to steer around him. Shortly after Bob and Vanessa took the Vt highway 111 route to Morgan, and the rest of us took the dirt Town highway 38. they saw a bear. We saw a lot of Vermont dirt road. We resupplied at the Morgan Country Store, where Fox news was playing, and the cashier seemed a bit surly. Found $0.01 in the parking lot!</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Lunch was in Island Pond from the supermarket. Because we were unsure about the exact situation at John McGill's cabin, we stocked up assuming that there would be no resupply until Thursday night. The planned route included a climb up Radar Rd followed by a descent to Gallup Mills. The Radar Rd, which we would briefly use the next day, goes to an abandoned Cold-Ware distant-early-warning radar site on the top of East Mountain. We chose to stick to the paved road, because the climb on Victory Rd</div><div>was only 300 m (vs. 400 m) in about 1.5 km less. And Victory Rd was challenging enough. </div><div><br /></div><div>The last ten miles on River Rd was quite scenic, with views of Umpire and Burke Mountains, and the wetlands along the river. After a short climb up Victory Hill Rd, I sorted out where to find John's caretaker, who said "Oh, he's there, just go to the end of the road and through the gate." I found John's car, complete with bikes, but no sign of him. He arrived later, on his mountain bike with a brush lopper in his backpack--trail maintenance. He had also dropped off some corn and bread, and provided burgers as well! </div><div><br /></div><div>Links: </div><div>Victory Hill Trail Club: <a href="https://victoryhillmtb.com/">https://victoryhillmtb.com/</a></div><div>Radar station: <a href="https://vtdigger.org/2013/08/08/a-cold-war-relic-the-east-haven-radar-station-closed-50-years-ago/">https://vtdigger.org/2013/08/08/a-cold-war-relic-the-east-haven-radar-station-closed-50-years-ago/</a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733345825" target="_blank">Day 3 Route</a></div>
<h3>Day 4 Victory Hill to Victory Hill to Lyndonville</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFkPoku2mNv9u592aotHgYHHoOwUYfmP70f_oSfTPmjUuGRgBYvGhg3QtTDO_m-9z_zDzaCqMoU6uyUyhRzwV-CN8Twp2lsBiUrBxqXUqLG2RJrcRx44jIZ_Bi2XARzI7UbZsj--KSAEWBC8E9Dm9x-Fj1Jko2o4stObUO2IXJKLY4mJZk1p7cgy37gOGp/s1038/Day-4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="1038" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFkPoku2mNv9u592aotHgYHHoOwUYfmP70f_oSfTPmjUuGRgBYvGhg3QtTDO_m-9z_zDzaCqMoU6uyUyhRzwV-CN8Twp2lsBiUrBxqXUqLG2RJrcRx44jIZ_Bi2XARzI7UbZsj--KSAEWBC8E9Dm9x-Fj1Jko2o4stObUO2IXJKLY4mJZk1p7cgy37gOGp/s320/Day-4.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Ithaca contingent's friend Cory Baclawski, would would be hosting us at his house at the end of the day, came to ride with us. He brought his friend Ben Deede, who had taken the day off work joined us. Ben actually knew the route and provided expert guide services. John McGill rode with us until we reached Paul Stream Rd route through the logging area by Mitchell Mountain.</div><div><br /></div><div>We cached the bags at the start, and would return to collect them later. </div><div><br /></div><div>We backtracked the end of the day before, north on River Rd, and then took the Radar Rd north before turning off onto a side ride. The west-to-east transit of the logging area was on absolutely pristine roads. It was hard to understand how they stayed so perfect--the brush was all pushed back, indicating that they were routinely used, but the clay surface was smoother than pavement.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was fading by the lunch stop, and the 1-km bushwhacking on Hall Rd made me nervous--nothing in the tank. We turned west off North Rd and went through two gates onto a two-track that wound through the bogs. I was really confused about our location, and was really flagging, even though I had strictly stuck to eating something every hour. A push on a recently regraded and repair stretch of Paul Stream Rd really demoralized me. But shortly after I found a second wind, and got rolling again. We recovered the bags at John's cabin, and recovered Ernie, who had inexplicably turned on Masten Rd instead of following the road back to the cabin. Cory took all the gear in his van, so we had the whole day unloaded. </div><div><br /></div><div>The ride over Kirby Mtn Road was steep and hard, but I felt fine. On the descent I foolishly tried to follow Vanessa, who had a head start, but I took two serious hits in a row, which shook my confidence, so I backed off. I was completely dead by the time we got to the end at Cory and Lisa's house. Two beers didn't really help the alertness, but were very welcome anyway. I nearly fell off Cory's deck when I leaned against the railing and it cracked. Much bouncing of small children occurred. Their oldest, Silas, and I spent some time trying to re-sort his rock collection, which tickled all of my organization needs. It seemed very similar to one that I had 55 years ago, though his had twice as many specimens. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Sleeping indoors got us out of the overnight rain.</div>
<h3><span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733352009" target="_blank">Day 4 Route</a></span></h3><h3>Day 5 Lyndonville to Greensboro</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XIfPsKUWXpJshcII5nLqdB_pA_3cWTB9vF-0OrVwB8pL1gsDObU_0fuFn2ByXBjIXTZXuaUvbtHDGxBWLXKTNkM-3nvO4fMgA3wRbNv7qDYXnfHFbvEunucg2X29V8fkwACWCT2eBxg5bF865OK--rlsyWasYN3nE8cj7jGCEnpT38X_KW8cudJacJmA/s1041/Day-5.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="1041" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XIfPsKUWXpJshcII5nLqdB_pA_3cWTB9vF-0OrVwB8pL1gsDObU_0fuFn2ByXBjIXTZXuaUvbtHDGxBWLXKTNkM-3nvO4fMgA3wRbNv7qDYXnfHFbvEunucg2X29V8fkwACWCT2eBxg5bF865OK--rlsyWasYN3nE8cj7jGCEnpT38X_KW8cudJacJmA/s320/Day-5.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMIVuZlQy0Uf-GW8QwwVUMWGQj1U1pEWH_zS7xZiOokC2IluiGoAF-BqKNBLO5F93T6fxHOLOGPQLGO1LZ3N4VN4atuakZHw19_MA2_eTvCxcNhVvwgxNkOxDYzkA_cDjG95KJfRmKwvR-PtMgFvQmLZwUmIHCwpUqCsufR9KtoXB_D1x434A3umF2v7s/s4032/IMG_9600.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMIVuZlQy0Uf-GW8QwwVUMWGQj1U1pEWH_zS7xZiOokC2IluiGoAF-BqKNBLO5F93T6fxHOLOGPQLGO1LZ3N4VN4atuakZHw19_MA2_eTvCxcNhVvwgxNkOxDYzkA_cDjG95KJfRmKwvR-PtMgFvQmLZwUmIHCwpUqCsufR9KtoXB_D1x434A3umF2v7s/w400-h300/IMG_9600.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staging in the drizzle. Photo credit Bill Erickson</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcqzVn55pZIBioeSrmi1pvNo9h9zexV1M5fH1GofSbqE6OdUCW1Yut19cljY51sJ2-6TpUnxqu7PiewYI161vVIxkuVvUdK12U58xeLvKf3MNVwacZgckk8MagbnHcS-4MHl__Sxs8lwIDOPbi-s2SsssmVdG3_W5S_IW30pBkEpQWxa6ezEtRgVftEoz/s4032/PXL_20230825_154418701.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcqzVn55pZIBioeSrmi1pvNo9h9zexV1M5fH1GofSbqE6OdUCW1Yut19cljY51sJ2-6TpUnxqu7PiewYI161vVIxkuVvUdK12U58xeLvKf3MNVwacZgckk8MagbnHcS-4MHl__Sxs8lwIDOPbi-s2SsssmVdG3_W5S_IW30pBkEpQWxa6ezEtRgVftEoz/w300-h400/PXL_20230825_154418701.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walden Mtn Rd. Impassible without pushing.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bGBUTnZqDPULSplbeX5iTvn0M4taGBhzI7FZO2BCgs86cS6hTDemWK0kaqC-FLFi0syEI7rX_c1Mzf48RfcRvl-nsKgvq4NsN8AFmlquF893eqDR2pDcGGgcqr4S5gE_7VS3aVFIJvh0PDfDt076crmY2OI9CRwTCg712csfD4o54EeOcOTz7MIAH_IF/s4032/PXL_20230825_170515271.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bGBUTnZqDPULSplbeX5iTvn0M4taGBhzI7FZO2BCgs86cS6hTDemWK0kaqC-FLFi0syEI7rX_c1Mzf48RfcRvl-nsKgvq4NsN8AFmlquF893eqDR2pDcGGgcqr4S5gE_7VS3aVFIJvh0PDfDt076crmY2OI9CRwTCg712csfD4o54EeOcOTz7MIAH_IF/w400-h300/PXL_20230825_170515271.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the Mountain Farm Stand. Breakfast sandwiches in the clouds.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><div>The forecast was for 60F and rain, and we left in the rain. We passed "Vermont's largest corn maze" on Burroughs Rd. The thin, wet layer of mud really sucked at the wheels, and I was glad that we were chopping off the southern half of the planned ride. On Walden Mountain Rd, Ernie chatted up a crusty old local (COL) for intel on the pass. He opined that we would be pushing, which just sounded like</div><div>a challenge to me. But COL was correct, and about ten minutes of pushing followed, on a class 4 road that had been destroyed in the flooding in June--it was basically a stream.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a rolling bit on a barely drivable road, Top of the Mountain Vegetable Farm appeared out of the cloud: coffee, sandwiches, pet goats.</div><div><br /></div><div>After that it was a quick run through Greensboro Bend and on to Greensboro, where Jenny treated us to killer tacos and wine.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Link: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9733372150" target="_blank">Day 5 Route</a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Sandwich report</h3></div><div><div>Our 2021 Catskills trip included some of the best sandwiches I have eaten. This trip was notable for my poor choices. I should have followed the lead of Bob "The Sandwich Whisperer" Nunnink, who apparently enjoyed his.</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Day 0 Mandy's Pizza and subs, Hudson Falls, NY: uninspired meatball parm</li><li>Day 1 Parkside Grill (Food truck) in Enosburg Falls: two hotdogs that had still be in the fryer, even though I wasn't excited about that</li><li>Day 2 Italian sub Main St. market in Richford. High point, but really only acceptable. </li><li>Day 3-5 No sandwiches.</li></ul></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p></p>bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-25245425879554485632021-06-11T16:29:00.005-04:002023-07-11T17:52:59.978-04:002021 Catskill Bikepacking trip<h2 style="text-align: left;">The concept</h2><div>Bob's concept was to follow the 255-mile <a href="https://nyara.org/catskillbikepackingroute">Catskill Bikepacking Route </a>, over six days, or about 45 miles per day. The video made it look like it had some rideable single track, but we really found out that some selective editing had been done. Much of the single track was not ridable--at least by me. </div><div>The crew was organizer Bob Nunnink, Ernie Bayles, Bill Erickson, and me. </div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Day by Day</h2><h4 style="text-align: left;"></h4><h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 1 Ellenville to Kenneth Wilson Camp</h3><p style="text-align: left;">I was up at 3:50AM and backing out of the driveway at 4:03AM for the 5.5 h drive to Ellenville. My dread and anxiety were at their normally high pre-event levels. Would I be the weak link? Would my car get towed while we were riding? Too much obsession. </p><p style="text-align: left;">We were loaded and rolling around 10:25. Bill E. and I immediately overshot the first turn and got in a couple extra miles. But soon we were climbing up Mine Rd, which looked promising. But it rapidly devolved into an extremely steep, boulder-covered hiking path.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoW-m4ATZ2FEDYNX0aGBpYXiGmiXsLMlV6yzgFWAJz5nikyFpWMzCTS_LaBdAXHA1yAfbesJXTu4AYDG0qIfv0ZsIswn03hGlv_QapsExXGdiUnV92jA4ReDgrwugfaGJ_gMw3GGDsYPK/s2048/PXL_20210602_153911967.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoW-m4ATZ2FEDYNX0aGBpYXiGmiXsLMlV6yzgFWAJz5nikyFpWMzCTS_LaBdAXHA1yAfbesJXTu4AYDG0qIfv0ZsIswn03hGlv_QapsExXGdiUnV92jA4ReDgrwugfaGJ_gMw3GGDsYPK/w400-h300/PXL_20210602_153911967.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><p style="text-align: center;">Mine Road outside of Ellenville (photo credit Bob Nunnink)</p><p style="text-align: left;">Sometime in the 19th century, Mine Rd took carriages from Ellenville to hotels of the Shawangunk ridge. The first eight miles took more than two hours. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z-8UnjHFuJPfbjZ0r6CfbmMYfxnrCSXm_5fMMTrVggejxGslkeZdtYuY12W0je36OYLNKsh44X-RaPYLwQpREluXh_fwr9Ez3Ii5obt_MTsCzChLnHoaDAQlZQnByDuAznLt-bcJkU3D/s2048/PXL_20210602_163737012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z-8UnjHFuJPfbjZ0r6CfbmMYfxnrCSXm_5fMMTrVggejxGslkeZdtYuY12W0je36OYLNKsh44X-RaPYLwQpREluXh_fwr9Ez3Ii5obt_MTsCzChLnHoaDAQlZQnByDuAznLt-bcJkU3D/w400-h300/PXL_20210602_163737012.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ernie Bayles at the end of Mine Rd. I can assure you that we hiked to the top</div><p style="text-align: left;">The trip through the Minnewaska State Park Preserve was astounding. The former carriage roads are immaculate and the Shawangunk Ridge vistas and escarpment are indescribably beautiful.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVa289k5gjgFeQ2BQ0mOb3VeCDL4U30nwZBSM3dXdN1_V93NotI06nR4V6vFz7yQ08h8ITVsOG0Lkcvf6MQ3Gy3-w6z-fm4g4i-JruWxDeP9t80FVYtp-z_14RaWiyiSeKljSB9ejGa2q/s2048/PXL_20210602_180124049.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVa289k5gjgFeQ2BQ0mOb3VeCDL4U30nwZBSM3dXdN1_V93NotI06nR4V6vFz7yQ08h8ITVsOG0Lkcvf6MQ3Gy3-w6z-fm4g4i-JruWxDeP9t80FVYtp-z_14RaWiyiSeKljSB9ejGa2q/w400-h300/PXL_20210602_180124049.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">In the park. Bob Nunnink photo.</p><p style="text-align: left;">We worked out way down the the park and through the Mohonk Preserve at the base of the escarpment past the rock climbers and down into New Paltz. There Ernie and Bob replaced their non-functional water filtration systems. I admit to having some more anxiety, since it was already 4PM, we had gone 30 miles, had 35 miles to go, and the skies were rapidly darkening. </p><p style="text-align: left;">We waited out the thunderstorm under an awning, and worked our way north on the rail trail. I was firmly in the throes of "Let's get this over with," and kind of fell apart after an hour. After a long climb in the drizzle, and a stretch along the Ashokan Reservoir we came out on the depressingly busy NY 28. We opted for indoor dinner at the Santa Fe Restaurant, which pushed our arrival at the Kenneth Wilson campground until after 8PM. I got the tent up as quickly as possible in the fading light, wishing all the time that it was a free-standing model instead of an ultralight with a zillion guy lines and stakes. I collapsed into the tent, even though the campground had showers.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Fun fact: The NYC water supply is fed by gravity from reservoirs like the Ashokan, and is not filtered, though it is UV-disinfected.</p><h4 style="text-align: left;">Map</h4><div>Total Distance: 63 miles<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/5437293102/embed/d42b9550306ef58f477d39b2586294d50ff1e8a9" width="590"></iframe>
</div><h4 style="text-align: left;"></h4><h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 2 Kenneth Wilson to North/South Lake </h3><p style="text-align: left;">We enjoyed a great 2nd breakfast at Bread Only, a very unexpected pastry/food truck on NY 28 in Boiceville. Even their chickens were entertaining!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuIubJ2TJp-qkRRFdPBpwee45sL20WtVDX-6zT6knDSzRIa28Fhd83IvOXhJ1DPrLWv9N9JXFDEodwNPis6_9z0C3LVMlwczQgBVQ6eDJQgGCDOGuRmefercYsTAOUWaK_ZMMpGlCHh9I/s4032/PXL_20210603_125313342.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuIubJ2TJp-qkRRFdPBpwee45sL20WtVDX-6zT6knDSzRIa28Fhd83IvOXhJ1DPrLWv9N9JXFDEodwNPis6_9z0C3LVMlwczQgBVQ6eDJQgGCDOGuRmefercYsTAOUWaK_ZMMpGlCHh9I/s320/PXL_20210603_125313342.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Chickens at Bread Only<br /><p style="text-align: left;">At Mt Tremper, the road turned uphill on pavement until we reached the entrance to the Primitive Bicycle Corridor/Overlook Mountain trail at the Zen Monastery. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIcwpYrYGc9GOuRVuw8ACpYY7sYJT_FiAAi6Utmp4Z1db_Ka8lynj6M2mtOqrkObC6CyQN-8V45wYXb8fkDL8NrJ-KChEVHy-N8kvqgwW5LEg7O9ypMVzGwRR5-VnLfgkzBXPvYqtB4zL/s4000/DSC01035.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIcwpYrYGc9GOuRVuw8ACpYY7sYJT_FiAAi6Utmp4Z1db_Ka8lynj6M2mtOqrkObC6CyQN-8V45wYXb8fkDL8NrJ-KChEVHy-N8kvqgwW5LEg7O9ypMVzGwRR5-VnLfgkzBXPvYqtB4zL/s320/DSC01035.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The entrance to the Overlook Mtn trail--the "Primitive Bicycle Corridor." It doesn't look so bad now.<br /><p style="text-align: left;">The PBC was 2.2 miles of 11 % gradient. In itself, the gradient wasn't so bad, but I was out of gear and only pedaling 60 rpm, so I frequently stalled after hitting rocks and ruts. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The PBC was the carriage road access to the creepy ruins of the early 20th-century never-completed Overlook Mountain House at the summit. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOOR-X3-Ba43gWEG-AMzgwKLq1sAhSXIAmFwBlUHZdQUIQKhcsn6JRhfXDrYHcjxXsaOlDFhv7g8_lW-vowe5CGsrlNONhSUPMBGZ9QMfrLAtT825j_eIhrj78TleqhIw1ZKmeKsZ9XvY/s4000/DSC01039.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOOR-X3-Ba43gWEG-AMzgwKLq1sAhSXIAmFwBlUHZdQUIQKhcsn6JRhfXDrYHcjxXsaOlDFhv7g8_lW-vowe5CGsrlNONhSUPMBGZ9QMfrLAtT825j_eIhrj78TleqhIw1ZKmeKsZ9XvY/s320/DSC01039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p>Ruins of the Overlook Mountain House.</p><p style="text-align: left;">The ruins are a reminder that the Catskills were a destination resort area in the late 19th century.</p><p style="text-align: left;">We lunched at the summit, but the clouds enveloped us and obscured the promised views of the valley around Woodstock. We actually rode right past the goat path down the other side of the mountain. The first mile or so of single track was eminently ridable and fun, but after that we were reduced to pushing downhill in a stream bed. It was more than two hours and 4.5 miles until we came out other side.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMAOVwHPMj3rlCu4fHmlFglT_Gyigr2Ks113fAUCYsCJoSoYDgzA_sijvxuIxxI26awwWTYQXvUGXkQkvF1qmsmEO_h-jerUAIoqgl_iVQgpyBstrIu1SWb7FY_VeUdIxqigfZaIApC1Y/s4032/PXL_20210603_183351887.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMAOVwHPMj3rlCu4fHmlFglT_Gyigr2Ks113fAUCYsCJoSoYDgzA_sijvxuIxxI26awwWTYQXvUGXkQkvF1qmsmEO_h-jerUAIoqgl_iVQgpyBstrIu1SWb7FY_VeUdIxqigfZaIApC1Y/s320/PXL_20210603_183351887.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Bridge at the end of the trail at Platte Clove Rd.</p><p style="text-align: left;">The route back down to the Hudson River valley and West Saugerties was Platte Clove Rd, made famous as the Devil's Kitchen climb in the 1990 Tour du Trump. Sections of the descent were more than 20 %; I did not like the way the front end squirmed in the turns. </p><p style="text-align: left;">We made good time into Palenville, and I began to think that the day was nearly over. I ate the best sandwich of the trip at the Circle W market in Palenville. Unfortunately, the day was far from over, as the route departed the road, and returned to the eroded carriage roads. </p><p style="text-align: left;">As at the entrance to the Harding Rd Trail, the NYS employee who was tidying up the parking area asked "Are you going to ride up that? I wouldn't do it." Our local intel from the Circle K was that the first segment was ridable, but after crossing the falls, the path turned rocky and narrow. We started at the same time as a woman out walking her dog. She consistently outpaced us on the ridable sections. After 1:15 of pushing, the trail finally leveled out. We proved the locals wrong and rolled into camp at North-South Lake, after a short detour to the Kaaterskill falls (and another abandoned hotel).</p><p style="text-align: left;">More information on the <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/overlook-mountain-house">Overlook Mountain House</a>.</p></div><div><h4>Maps</h4></div><div>Total Distance: 43 miles</div>
<p style="text-align: left;">Day 2 is broken into halves because I was trying to save Garmin battery. </p><p style="text-align: left;"><b>Part 1</b></p><div><br /></div>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><b>Part 2</b></p>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 3 to North-South Lake to Diamond Notch Lean-to</h3><p style="text-align: left;">Everyone was ready for a rest day after two solid days of late-evening finishes. We all agreed to skip the trail section in the middle of the route near Windham especially because the day was going to end with another uphill trail section to the Diamond Notch lean-to. </p><p style="text-align: left;">After leaving North-South Lake campground, we descended on the rail trail (complete with the original ties) that once brought visitors to the Catskill Mountain House resort, which NYS burned to the ground in 1962.</p><p style="text-align: left;">After leaving Hunter, a spoke on the rear wheel broke, which put an end to the bombing of single-track and gravel segments for the rest of the trip. The wobble of the rear wheel was almost 20 mm. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Early in the afternoon, we arrived at the base of the final climb up to the Diamond Notch lean-to. After the roadway ended, the trail appeared pretty ridable.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbVQtQ8ffgpWbzispmua9n9JKZnwYXsJAhHe-4jwVTvWws2l7x6LHZB_PSnu2EWJdcuRvgY1tNnTGNVPw8qblwS0V9-e1iBE2vWrFN3CtW1XQZEz22UZIrSwSeWRxJH9omgJckmf3n8G8/s2048/IMG_2947.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbVQtQ8ffgpWbzispmua9n9JKZnwYXsJAhHe-4jwVTvWws2l7x6LHZB_PSnu2EWJdcuRvgY1tNnTGNVPw8qblwS0V9-e1iBE2vWrFN3CtW1XQZEz22UZIrSwSeWRxJH9omgJckmf3n8G8/s320/IMG_2947.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">The base of the Diamond Notch trail. Looks pretty ridable! photo credit: Bill Erickson </p><p style="text-align: left;">The ridability ended quite suddenly, and we were once again reduced to pushing. The situation deteriorated significantly at this portage.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVbDaJ-EOJ2a2Sb5IHi2ujjr6C8zBhdT7tAVjOSF8B9eqTMjhcndbs3YL6J1Vy5ZD0Ja-R8YEegUQ09et69QpxYj9zmpQ_F9cpnLs6f7Mca_iYCq_vvZ-5X6qfKjIq86pTtzQRDUX9y8K/s4000/DSC01055.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVbDaJ-EOJ2a2Sb5IHi2ujjr6C8zBhdT7tAVjOSF8B9eqTMjhcndbs3YL6J1Vy5ZD0Ja-R8YEegUQ09et69QpxYj9zmpQ_F9cpnLs6f7Mca_iYCq_vvZ-5X6qfKjIq86pTtzQRDUX9y8K/w300-h400/DSC01055.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Our first significant obstacle.</p><p style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The only way to get up was to remove all the gear from the bikes and ferry it up on multiple trips. Crossing and recrossing the stream in MTB shoes was pretty sketchy. And I really feared that we would cross and recross the stream farther up the trail. We were fortunate that although nothing beyond the portage was ridable, it was a steady gradient with no more crossings. We reached the overlook after only about 50 minutes of pushing. Several groups of hikers were quite surprised to see MTBs on this section of the trail. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dinner was dehydrated Chili-mac, which was surprisingly good for a product whose "sell-by" date was in 2050. </div><h4 style="text-align: left;">Links:</h4><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catskill_Mountain_House">Catskill Mountain House</a></li></ul></div><div><h4>Maps</h4></div><div>Total Distance: 33 miles</div>
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<div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 4 Diamond Notch Lean to to Bloomsville, NY</h3><p style="text-align: left;">After a long downhill, some gratuitous uphills to avoid the highway, we arrived in Prattsville, and the famous Pratt Rock. They should really advertise this as "New York's Mt. Rushmore.' </p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBa50Ej_1uPT9ngo6tbN9UnS9nx9BUTqnDraxKZyXBpYey_Fw1DlreLji63miytoOaPMZ6yb6Fr2tbQCKuuHvxGcds2Y7xjlhMBei_TTa8O4NeBAMSYwnCSrgDV8CufUWAOScOlWSJqGGY/s4032/PXL_20210605_141821980.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBa50Ej_1uPT9ngo6tbN9UnS9nx9BUTqnDraxKZyXBpYey_Fw1DlreLji63miytoOaPMZ6yb6Fr2tbQCKuuHvxGcds2Y7xjlhMBei_TTa8O4NeBAMSYwnCSrgDV8CufUWAOScOlWSJqGGY/s320/PXL_20210605_141821980.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 18.72px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p></h3><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of the carvings on Pratt Rock. He was proud of having sponsored the legislation to create the "Bureau of Statistics." And he liked the working man. One might interpret this tableau as "Workers smashing part of the government," though.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zadock Pratt founded the town, ran the largest tannery in the US in the mid-19th century, and served in the House of Representatives. He also survived four of five wives, two sets of whom were sisters. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lunch was at the Prattsville Diner, where I ate another sandwich (roast beef on toast), and recharged my Garmin. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The afternoon was hot, and we fought a 20 mph headwind on the Catskill Scenic Trail, a railtrail that parallels 23 to Stamford and Hobart. As the afternoon wore on, I started to come unglued. I had one speed. Sometimes it was faster than everyone else, and sometimes it was slower. We had no fixed end point for the day. The plan was to find some public land (undoubtedly tick-infested), push off the road, and camp there. Fortunately, the world is populated by people who are much nicer than I am. Bob chatted up a gentleman on the path in Hobart, who invited us to camp on his property, which was literally on the route we planned to take. We refreshed at Sal's Traditional Meat Center (#2 rated sub of the trip!) and ground out that last 2.5 miles. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our host's property was like a living landscape architecture magazine photo essay. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDZ7lhc9BK6Yiy4lWarJfkx8ILpwWVpxpn7Mpy8Nar1UoCOLEfpYnz4WMlwmABKCTI8VSkPGWdE5EYgU049sWmGTKKhu9atSV3X2vxz3SIQ767TtGjzwrmAreeIQmN2IPSOS7Fa8B7p69/s4032/PXL_20210605_220302200.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDZ7lhc9BK6Yiy4lWarJfkx8ILpwWVpxpn7Mpy8Nar1UoCOLEfpYnz4WMlwmABKCTI8VSkPGWdE5EYgU049sWmGTKKhu9atSV3X2vxz3SIQ767TtGjzwrmAreeIQmN2IPSOS7Fa8B7p69/s320/PXL_20210605_220302200.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: center;">Our host on Bramley Mountain Rd. The landscaped gardens extend down the hill to the right. </div></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><p></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maps</span></h4><div><span style="font-size: small;">Once again the day is broken in two to save battery. </span></div><div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">More information</span></h4><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://catskillscenictrail.org/">Catskill Scenic Trail</a> </span></li><li><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zadock_Pratt">Zadock Pratt</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pratt_Rock">Pratt Rock</a></span></li></ul><p></p></span>Day 5 Bramley Mountain Rd to Little Pond campsite</h3><p style="text-align: left;">This section of the trip was the closest to what I envisioned it would be like. The hills are not as high, and the roads were perfect gravel. We stopped for second breakfast at a diner in Andes. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxsX1j3X4DQYKKaYAiQkbbienIuxH6Jn-efQiz-dW2jUxlUUg7qOyoqPfJ8IRfnH4fIisBbkjctnLj6hhQ11P8k_b6U472p4CevJZg3IXGp0GLbH6a0Rt4G7E8J-hXye53NoMY1LhQDLBV/s4032/PXL_20210606_144333615.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxsX1j3X4DQYKKaYAiQkbbienIuxH6Jn-efQiz-dW2jUxlUUg7qOyoqPfJ8IRfnH4fIisBbkjctnLj6hhQ11P8k_b6U472p4CevJZg3IXGp0GLbH6a0Rt4G7E8J-hXye53NoMY1LhQDLBV/s320/PXL_20210606_144333615.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The remains of second breakfast in Andes, NY</div><p style="text-align: left;">The climb out of the Pepacton Reservoir was long and hot. I'm pretty sure that I rode past here in 1983 on my insane "Making a plan is planning to fail" ride from Ithaca to Poughkeepsie to visit Maria Laurendeau. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The Ithaca guys had arranged for some friends from Ithaca to meet us at the campsite, so there would be real dinner and beer for a change. Since the day was short, we were in camp, after the world's longest lecture about the campground rules, by 2:15. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTwNxb5Jh1XvbhDp0_dupuXd9WFZ4x_E2AQbrQ9rc-GrrC7stXV-KPzYKWXSg5QsdrJhyphenhyphenyqNIMYtE0TPvsxUQdlraF6K3terWCXMm4vtnHYYA6_ZI03KZu_u4EXeg8Em2BwtQZW83s73W/s4032/PXL_20210606_200418451.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTwNxb5Jh1XvbhDp0_dupuXd9WFZ4x_E2AQbrQ9rc-GrrC7stXV-KPzYKWXSg5QsdrJhyphenhyphenyqNIMYtE0TPvsxUQdlraF6K3terWCXMm4vtnHYYA6_ZI03KZu_u4EXeg8Em2BwtQZW83s73W/s320/PXL_20210606_200418451.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Little Pond campsite and one of our saviors, Ruth Sherman.</div><h4 style="text-align: left;">Maps</h4><div>
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<br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Day 6 Little Pond to Ellenville</h3><p style="text-align: left;">We had explored having Jim and Ruth ferry us to Ellenville, but in the end we made the right decision and rode the 55 miles. Again, the roads were empty, especially the segment on Pole Rd after Willowemoc. Using the original route was a non-starter: it contained a 1 mile segment that was not marked on Ernie's hiking map, followed by 5 miles of snowmobile trail. The modified route avoided the big climbs by adding miles.</p><p style="text-align: left;">I did find a road bra just outside of Parkville, NY. (#90 of all time). </p><p style="text-align: left;">We arrived in Ellenville and our untowed cars around 1PM, had a quick lunch, and I hit the road. </p><h4 style="text-align: left;">Maps</h4><div>
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<br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">General observations</h3><p style="text-align: left;">Riding a MTB felt painfully slower than riding a touring bike. It was hard to get used to going so slowly. Given the amount of pushing we did, I'm not sure that I wouldn't have been better off on my CX bike. </p><p style="text-align: left;">My fitness was really poor. Usually on a multi-day tour the first couple days are rugged, but then the fitness comes around. On this trip, my recovery degraded from day 1 until day 3, and then plateaued. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The grips on my MTB were designed by a sadist. I was worried that they might be bad, but they were awful. Even a week later my right pinky finger is still tingling. I really needed the 1990's bar-ends.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Camping is fun. But I don't want to do it on every trip. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Fifteen years ago I would have been stoked about how epic some of the segments were. Now, not so much. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Apparently no one lives in the Catskills. Even on the numbered county highways we saw almost no vehicles. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The number and variety of abandoned buildings was quite notable, especially compared to Northern Virginia, where they are quite rare. </p><h4 style="text-align: left;">Sandwich rating system</h4><div>I ate a lot of sandwiches during the day. I've ranked them from best to worst. </div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Italian Sub. Circle W Market Palenville, NY. Best Italian sub I have eaten in several years--better than the Westover Italian Store. The roll was critical and awesome. The second half of it even tasted great after riding in my jersey pocket for 2.5 h. </li><li>Italian Sub. Sal's Traditional Meat Center, Bloomville, NY. Pretty good, but maybe I expected more from a guy named Sal. Good banana peppers. </li><li>Italian Sub, Arianna's Restaurant, Ellenville. Uninspired, but acceptable. </li><li>Roast beef on rye, Prattville Diner. It was very OK. </li><li>Roast beef on rye, Hensonville Food Lockers, Hensonville, NY. Meh. I was going to get an Italian sub, but the guy making the sandwiches seemed overwhelmed, so I just had him make what Bob was having. </li></ol><h4 style="text-align: left;">Other food</h4></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Pecan sticky bun. Only Bread, Boiceville, NY Great chickens, and a very sweet sticky bun, served from a food truck that had an air-conditioned trailer mounted portajohn. </li><li>Rossili's diner, Andes NY. Tremendous oatmeal. Google lists this place as Woody's Country Kitchen, but that sign was definitely gone.</li><li>Steak Burrito, Santa Fe, Woodstock NY. It was fine in the way that Chili's is fine. </li></ul></div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Gear</h2><div>I forgot to weigh the bags at the start of the trip. Bob totally outdid me with his to-the-gram spreadsheet of gear. But at the end, everything weighed 19.7 lbs. I ate about 3 lbs of food. The bags alone were 2.5 lbs. </div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Bike</h3><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>50 mm Panaracer Gravel King tires @50psi. I felt totally confident on these tires on the rare occasions that it was possible to ride the trail sections. </li></ul></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1ufDTPdIe4ASy4QAZzDrvHqiGCcLwbAjh4mEJNEDaz4Ljo1joTbRgMKsbAldvgxph8t9B0MjYd_sHktgvZ0RJ7NniTuyccqFUNX9DqnEfSuK4A5k0ECFfiVpCzCtj_etVLcdcBzqQVdS/s4000/DSC01028.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1ufDTPdIe4ASy4QAZzDrvHqiGCcLwbAjh4mEJNEDaz4Ljo1joTbRgMKsbAldvgxph8t9B0MjYd_sHktgvZ0RJ7NniTuyccqFUNX9DqnEfSuK4A5k0ECFfiVpCzCtj_etVLcdcBzqQVdS/w400-h300/DSC01028.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Stumpjumper on day 1, while it was still clean.</div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Bags</h3><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>16.5 liter Ortlieb seat-pack <a href="https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/seat-pack+F9902 ">https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/seat-pack+F9902 </a>460 g</li><li>15.0 liter Ortlieb handlebar-pack <a href="https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/handlebar-pack+F9922">https://www.ortlieb.com/en_us/handlebar-pack+F9922</a> 420 g</li><li> 4.0 liter Revelate medium Tangle frame bag <a href="https://www.revelatedesigns.com/index.cfm/store.catalog/frame-bags/TangleFrameBag">https://www.revelatedesigns.com/index.cfm/store.catalog/frame-bags/TangleFrameBag</a> 250 g</li></ul></div><p style="text-align: left;">The Revelate frame bag made it impossible to pull bottles out of the frame, and I even broke one of the cages at some point while wrestling a bottle in and out. Next time (?) I'll strap the bottle cages to the fork legs. The size of the frame bag made it too tempting to over-fill it, which frequently caused it to rub my calf, which was pretty annoying. Other than those small problems, the bags were bomb-proof and problem-free. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The Revelate Terrapin seat bag system that Bill Erickson used seemed to sway less, probably due to the plastic housing for the dry bag. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Very little room remained at the start of the trip. </p><h3 style="text-align: left;">Food and Clothing</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_dLY5Ku1NxLxXqOyRtt5WZzSEVVCvYr32JStuWDye1jFLUSCNdhd2OIdiaSaeSVdwsxYpiaYj7lYnlPYy_oSFapvYVQm8G6J-vAMPiCyv_vPXMqUsOYj0rF7lci9Qb64fG7emEx_5ad3/s2048/gear.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1437" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_dLY5Ku1NxLxXqOyRtt5WZzSEVVCvYr32JStuWDye1jFLUSCNdhd2OIdiaSaeSVdwsxYpiaYj7lYnlPYy_oSFapvYVQm8G6J-vAMPiCyv_vPXMqUsOYj0rF7lci9Qb64fG7emEx_5ad3/s320/gear.png" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;">Although the composite image above doesn't show it, I ended up taking two jerseys, and two Craft white base layers instead of the gray baselayer. I used every thing I took, except the Castelli leg warmers. I wish I had taken regular synthetic cycling socks instead of wool socks, because the wool socks took forever to dry. I was risking a case of trench foot for a while. </p><div>By the end the only food that remained was the freeze-dried Kung Pao chicken.</div><h4 style="text-align: left;">Stuff I should have taken, but did not:</h4><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>a tiny line for drying clothes and hanging the anti-bear food bag,</li><li>a chamois cloth for drying off after showering,</li><li>a trail spoon (I lost mine and had to borrow one from Bill E.),</li><li>duct tape,</li><li>spare spokes (it turned out that I had them at home).</li></ul></div><div>I had bought some Al bar stock to make adapters to drop the bottle cages down the frame more, but I never got around to making them. </div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Health</h3><p style="text-align: left;">The grips on the MTB were punishing. My hands fell asleep every time we were on a road section. Even a couple days later both hands are still tingling. On two successive days, I nearly gave myself an upper back spasm while trying to wrestle my sleeping bag into the handlebar bag. That back weakness is certainly related to the hand problem. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Usually on bike trips, the day 1 and day 2 are a bit rugged, and then the fitness comes around. This time I felt progressively worse each of the first three days, and then just plateaued at a low level. </p><div>The ride was hard--much harder than I expected it would be. </div><div><br /></div></div>bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-80524455943591047532018-01-01T13:48:00.001-05:002018-01-01T13:48:46.849-05:002017 Year-end analysis of racing in MABRA<div>
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This post is just an advertisement for the 15th edition of my year-end analysis of bicycle racing in MABRA. You have to get the full (47 page) report on-line: <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qGfUdoLVwLmbDlixxDIi9_51hRhel-98/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Link to PDF</a></div>
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Some visually interesting plots from the report appear below. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f2V1dHsTEpL6eTpDU0GeVHgXw8-krzH95vee63gefYEsYHFIb0M3Xju9lK9DGew-YJsAO-JPHk76Zwyt8fE9vGSZbwkuTyJHQEB3mrkssesh8Trk47RPd9or73TLsQGku_pLWHJuk4x8/s1600/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f2V1dHsTEpL6eTpDU0GeVHgXw8-krzH95vee63gefYEsYHFIb0M3Xju9lK9DGew-YJsAO-JPHk76Zwyt8fE9vGSZbwkuTyJHQEB3mrkssesh8Trk47RPd9or73TLsQGku_pLWHJuk4x8/s400/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distribution of ages of all racers in USACycling.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKY1NZg6v67yDL2AHtMN0uAQA6aJVkgYzWYubyW5PnJWrwWikWBM7gtx2l_tC7OulgrF53srAuXnekSNyCXKwaXCkWjS7_PJnYfKpWCs214jM_88L47SRG5qN69CGDGFfANdyQ-vDlrPjO/s1600/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesHistorical.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKY1NZg6v67yDL2AHtMN0uAQA6aJVkgYzWYubyW5PnJWrwWikWBM7gtx2l_tC7OulgrF53srAuXnekSNyCXKwaXCkWjS7_PJnYfKpWCs214jM_88L47SRG5qN69CGDGFfANdyQ-vDlrPjO/s400/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesHistorical.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">USACycling membership since 1970.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy63con20QIKdRaMR9hdI7CteWgaKqQcJ84pQdKMsNnADmCmUyTqh3LGhOkt0hFfCa7kyhKCdPukGG_whLqYSYRKfDRG5ERGr3hzsqm0pvEEqVoNi0YOmClRZdU-kFjWKvVmi8IyaMaM1E/s1600/analyze-event-trends-AETtrendCrit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="432" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy63con20QIKdRaMR9hdI7CteWgaKqQcJ84pQdKMsNnADmCmUyTqh3LGhOkt0hFfCa7kyhKCdPukGG_whLqYSYRKfDRG5ERGr3hzsqm0pvEEqVoNi0YOmClRZdU-kFjWKvVmi8IyaMaM1E/s640/analyze-event-trends-AETtrendCrit.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attendance at popular MABRA criteriums since 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3JgcuPEBtq4yeGABZmhJ9I_G_yjpDO3xRhgeGsw58kotaDDrlbW8dDPhlN63_8E-iwevUMI3U-ys0nwJtXuJVgsW96Pj3DnvfyIiAcYnGOjG0QhV4R8bijvKDjpjDXjO4qfRl9NMJgUF/s1600/analyze-progression-APFractionYearbyFirst.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3JgcuPEBtq4yeGABZmhJ9I_G_yjpDO3xRhgeGsw58kotaDDrlbW8dDPhlN63_8E-iwevUMI3U-ys0nwJtXuJVgsW96Pj3DnvfyIiAcYnGOjG0QhV4R8bijvKDjpjDXjO4qfRl9NMJgUF/s400/analyze-progression-APFractionYearbyFirst.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racer retention in the US. Plot shows the fraction of racers remaining as a function of the number of years since they first took out a USACycling license.</td></tr>
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bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-12493202176492027352017-11-24T13:46:00.001-05:002017-11-24T13:46:52.647-05:00Tom and Bill's Appalachian Trail Death March<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MSukzK2X061UHen0xct6lwAYH-cZaVSQLT49goJR5uf2ck-YdCFKLWYE6ATWrjHAJFeiOyfnXAD5BNhnc-9Xun5b0wLZsCoT_zAS2Fjr8wj3yAYqWBq2CWnrLg7F-zAFWm5htIuOsX-i/s1600/20171019_123705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MSukzK2X061UHen0xct6lwAYH-cZaVSQLT49goJR5uf2ck-YdCFKLWYE6ATWrjHAJFeiOyfnXAD5BNhnc-9Xun5b0wLZsCoT_zAS2Fjr8wj3yAYqWBq2CWnrLg7F-zAFWm5htIuOsX-i/s400/20171019_123705.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<h2>
Background</h2>
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In the fall, Tom and I usually try to do a long-weekend bike tour, but this year we indulged his dream of through-hiking the Appalachian Trail with a four-day backpacking trip. I'd never been overnight backpacking before, and the trip gave me the excuse to research buy a lot of gear. </div>
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Summary</h2>
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We hiked 46 miles over two full days and two half days, from Harpers Ferry to just north if I-70 and back. </div>
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Impressions</h2>
The unanswered question from this trip is why do I turn every endurance activity into a death march? On Day 2 I wanted so badly to make it to Annapolis Rock, even though it was at least 18 miles, and not just because I thought it would be a nicer campsite than the Pine Knob shelter. What is so appealing about finishing an event completely on fumes? On this trip, it was not about the speed--I was more than happy to stop at the overlooks, but I definitely wanted to have every day be a stretch. <br />
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Maybe I'm addicted to that level of exhaustion. Maybe I it's that "we can always do a little bit more."<br />
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After trying to turn every day into a death march, I was struck by how much harder the days were than I expected. After our diagnostic hike in September, I thought it would be within our capability to do at least 15 and probably 20 miles per day, which would have allowed us to get to the Pennsylvania border and back. I was never tired at the end of the day, but my legs felt like someone had beaten them with a stick, and my feet were in real pain.<br />
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Did I need to carry so much food? I never really saw Tom eat anything substantial. I would be gnawing away at a salami and shoving pecans into my mouth, and he would be quietly sipping a Cup-o-soup.<br />
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Day By Day</h2>
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Day 1 Harpers Ferry to Ed Garvey Thursday 2017-10-19</h3>
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We ended up parking at the National Park visitor center around 12:30 and hiking down to town, which added another couple miles. The day was spectacular, and first three miles are on the towpath were delightful. </div>
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The trail from Weverton was rocky and vertical. We slogged on with our heavy (to us) packs. As the afternoon wore on, we began to wonder if we had missed the Ed Garvey Shelter, though it seemed impossible that we could have simply walked by it without noticing. We stopped for a nature break, and Tom noticed that the shelter was visible through the woods. Neither of us felt like pushing on to Crampton Cap, so we stopped.</div>
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The shelter already held five more people: 2 late-middle-aged guys who disappeared pretty quickly, a lone middle-aged guy, and a 30-something with his 4-year-old son, whose backpack was large enough for him to get into. Amusingly, the 30-something turned out to be a bike racer. </div>
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The lone-middle-aged guy was a snorer, and I slept poorly. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxjcAt7apPpqXdORxJm2ktNMKUKNt-6UUE_AmIgZlOv75qyS5n2-LRDV5jBB1P7W9HeBCmcZMwtRv2ODiPmTBHvmL0t1QQeRPWrzJ00agDA8tb7v5m8DlYTebMYUF2xMksAavUzRZJtMd/s1600/DSC00895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxjcAt7apPpqXdORxJm2ktNMKUKNt-6UUE_AmIgZlOv75qyS5n2-LRDV5jBB1P7W9HeBCmcZMwtRv2ODiPmTBHvmL0t1QQeRPWrzJ00agDA8tb7v5m8DlYTebMYUF2xMksAavUzRZJtMd/s400/DSC00895.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Garvey shelter. Day 1</td></tr>
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<h3>
Day 2 Ed Garvey to Pine Knob Friday 2017-10-20</h3>
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I really thought we could make it to Annapolis Rock. The segment near Lambs Knoll really slowed the pace down. The path was so rocky that you could never really take a stride. Instead it was all half steps, staring at the boulders and making sure you didn't fall over.<br />
We came first to Gathland State Park, home of the National War Correspondent's arch. I've been to Gathland many times, mostly on rides, so I didn't know the history of the place. It's basically the failed estate of a famous Civil War correspondent/essayist. It's the 19th-century equivalent of visiting Dan Rather's home. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX1tThZfdOQ05cXA9ahIZYTY_oC0noaNM-ZUcFVOST1zFTmJ4cy2ZMtuMu-0uQDa-Zyd2YLMh_bXKFk5C2wwbhYDvk_v9BkY4kafiVbflWEYifyWZoPhKyJEuMdhd84k4hr0qGqaKsJyr/s1600/DSC00899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX1tThZfdOQ05cXA9ahIZYTY_oC0noaNM-ZUcFVOST1zFTmJ4cy2ZMtuMu-0uQDa-Zyd2YLMh_bXKFk5C2wwbhYDvk_v9BkY4kafiVbflWEYifyWZoPhKyJEuMdhd84k4hr0qGqaKsJyr/s400/DSC00899.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obligatory photo of the National War Correspondent's Arch at Gathland state park</td></tr>
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Our quick lunch was at the White Rocks overlook, which is probably the only trail-side overlook on the entire 20+ mile section. We then bushwhacked trying to find the map-listed Lambs Knoll Lookout tower, which I later discovered was closed to the public in the 1980s. So much for accurate maps. The descent from Lambs Knoll was pretty grim, with lots of boulders.<br />
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Next on tap was Reno Monument, which memorializes Union General Jesse Reno who as killed at the battle of Fox Gap during the 1862 battle for South Mountain. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jxAFLU9DLOVopUwVCGctgDQrB3LQpHT14n_po6PQ-tefkNnQHqB0aP-O9Pucuv2UfDR0AuZMlxE7vGipiG_u0MRdLM3IisEOY87V6jsm-yJC_P-OxFnE81CaBAdOAh9VuuYNZZXSZcox/s1600/DSC00906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jxAFLU9DLOVopUwVCGctgDQrB3LQpHT14n_po6PQ-tefkNnQHqB0aP-O9Pucuv2UfDR0AuZMlxE7vGipiG_u0MRdLM3IisEOY87V6jsm-yJC_P-OxFnE81CaBAdOAh9VuuYNZZXSZcox/s400/DSC00906.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I guess we're still in the south. Jesse Reno monument at Fox Gap. Note that Reno was a Union general, and the CSA general killed here has his own monument down the road. But apparently somebody felt it was important to claim this site for the noble cause as well. </td></tr>
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Shortly after Reno Monument, we came to the original Washington Monument, which was originally built by citizens of Boonsboro to honor GW himself. The CCC completely rebuilt the derelict monument in the 1930s.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMewsUQqLvaGDBoD8_1otQjFXot8aEYjTtvQHYn6VI-tw1syDty3n7Lqy2tOMf577o_M9gMUk4cXcah3jX8cAC0GoqbDMbrprPCSlQLtTVHfcWTEKdl4XmAnGRMj0GAQZJjg574MMdNqEA/s1600/DSC00908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMewsUQqLvaGDBoD8_1otQjFXot8aEYjTtvQHYn6VI-tw1syDty3n7Lqy2tOMf577o_M9gMUk4cXcah3jX8cAC0GoqbDMbrprPCSlQLtTVHfcWTEKdl4XmAnGRMj0GAQZJjg574MMdNqEA/s400/DSC00908.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom on the original Washington Monument, first built in the 1820s, and then completely rebuilt in the 1930s by the CCC.</td></tr>
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By the time we hit the I-70 bridge, I was pretty sure we were not going to make it to Annapolis Rock. My feet were killing me, and I had to call a short halt so I could take my shoes off. My aching feet meant we were camping at the Pine Knob shelter. We had it to ourselves, since it's a terrible shelter. The constant whine of traffic going downhill on I-70 acted like a white noise machine, though.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jHp_mXBVJEDGMNZjO_tu_4ibMwHXw0MTxp9ML5MbLxHhLydRCgD4VH6FDe9LfCsTZKgumt2SjeJWALgQDBzexb9K60FneAp35y2J-XNIAMtqQWlqC9BkGbEUJ8-Xp3ZGoaajkaBwnAra/s1600/DSC00911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jHp_mXBVJEDGMNZjO_tu_4ibMwHXw0MTxp9ML5MbLxHhLydRCgD4VH6FDe9LfCsTZKgumt2SjeJWALgQDBzexb9K60FneAp35y2J-XNIAMtqQWlqC9BkGbEUJ8-Xp3ZGoaajkaBwnAra/s400/DSC00911.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom and his 250 calorie "cup-o-soup"dinner at the Pine Knob shelter. </td></tr>
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<h3>
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Day 3 Pine Knob to Crampton Gap Saturday 2017-11-21</h3>
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My legs and feet recovered for Day 3, and after a quick breakfast we were off back across the I-70 bridge. Tom stopped for a shower at the Dahlgren campground, but I opted to stay dry. Since it was Saturday, the trail was positively crowded with people, compared to the day before. The day sped by, possibly because were covering ground we had already seen, and we reached the turnoff for the Crampton Gap shelter around 4PM.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kTpKhzwsgc208Omv0XJ4Yg9dVmp6v7tk-_11ZjS9RmOwQ2mgI4ZDCwweTUu2NLmExR6ayy2iU32Nmgf_QMMg6WVXyhCjEfJ-JIBNqkIrA_SLrAPmp87ENbY40ov9_uAcM7qvJQmc6c4V/s1600/DSC00918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kTpKhzwsgc208Omv0XJ4Yg9dVmp6v7tk-_11ZjS9RmOwQ2mgI4ZDCwweTUu2NLmExR6ayy2iU32Nmgf_QMMg6WVXyhCjEfJ-JIBNqkIrA_SLrAPmp87ENbY40ov9_uAcM7qvJQmc6c4V/s400/DSC00918.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch break at the White Rocks overlook. We're avoiding the guy behind me, who was wearing a kilt.</td></tr>
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We shared the Crampton Gap shelter with three millenials. They were carrying an impossible amount of gear, including a shovel. They played some kind of monster-themed card game. The shelter was completely unbearable, since one of them had sleep apnea. Initially it was like sharing the shelter with a demon, but as the evening wore on the snuffling became more feline. It was like sharing the shelter with a mountain lion. I gave up and pulled my pad out of the shelter and finally got to sleep.<br />
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<h3>
Day 4 Crampton Gap to Harpers Ferry Sunday 2017-11-22</h3>
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We pretty much hauled through the last day to get back to the car, since we were covering ground we'd already traversed. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBjlS-AUSKNm_Gbm7b7yr8E7DnOxlVedU1972BRnu9pbH37CjEgrvwhhzqiV3MFXWrxwJApbHke-jtZeoddxK_wu5Eq6aJ-msHCJOCaGVrGbJu7Pm6iMTFoYc2xCfmbG6RtVNYkoq07MO/s1600/DSC00926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBjlS-AUSKNm_Gbm7b7yr8E7DnOxlVedU1972BRnu9pbH37CjEgrvwhhzqiV3MFXWrxwJApbHke-jtZeoddxK_wu5Eq6aJ-msHCJOCaGVrGbJu7Pm6iMTFoYc2xCfmbG6RtVNYkoq07MO/s320/DSC00926.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we rescued a tiny turtle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h2>
Gear</h2>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Pearl-Izumi trail running shoes. These were too light, and beat up my feet.</li>
<li>Since I was paranoid about weather, I had a gore-tex jacket. I was prepared to spend days outside, soaking wet at 45F. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<h2>
Lessons Learned</h2>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Water is heavy. I was worried that the water sources were well off the trail. I was completely wrong, of course, but I started the trip with 4 liters (8lbs) in two camelbacks. </li>
<li>The shelters are full of snorers. I thought the first night was bad, but our companion Devon on the third night was unbearable. In the future, I'll just use the one-person tent. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<h2>
By the numbers</h2>
With 4l of water and the food, my pack weighed 34lbs--too heavy.<br />
<h3>
Distance</h3>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr><th>Day</th><th>Distance (mi)</th><th>Segment</th></tr>
<tr><td>1</td><td>7.8</td><td>Harper's Ferry Visitor Center to Ed Garvey Shelter</td></tr>
<tr><td>2</td><td>15.5</td><td>Ed Garvey Shelter to Pine Knob Shelter</td></tr>
<tr><td>3</td><td>11.8</td><td>Pine Knob Shelter to Crampton Gap Shelter</td></tr>
<tr><td>4</td><td>11.5</td><td>Crampton Gap to Harper's Ferry Visitor Center</td></tr>
<tr><td></td><td>46.6miles </td><td></td><td></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
Food</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBU_m32779L3Nw7ppOe2IJ4a7WkME4a4CwBYMLcnWdQdJP5eHMJjYXe4B0cBUybaMYRUkDc01KSYehvdwK4uQxDFALjGlI4319k0RwlSyVm9KqozyBjNRAWcitwpDK_xuyDSr2RXwEHKcJ/s1600/20171018_201831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBU_m32779L3Nw7ppOe2IJ4a7WkME4a4CwBYMLcnWdQdJP5eHMJjYXe4B0cBUybaMYRUkDc01KSYehvdwK4uQxDFALjGlI4319k0RwlSyVm9KqozyBjNRAWcitwpDK_xuyDSr2RXwEHKcJ/s400/20171018_201831.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My food supply. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr><th>Weight </th><th>Calories </th><th>Description </th></tr>
<tr><td>32 oz </td><td>3200 cal </td><td>4 salamis </td></tr>
<tr><td>28.8 oz </td><td>3000 cal </td><td>12 Clif bars </td></tr>
<tr><td>16 oz </td><td>2700 cal </td><td>bag cashews </td></tr>
<tr><td>8 oz </td><td>1600 cal </td><td>salted pecans </td></tr>
<tr><td>12 oz </td><td>1760 cal </td><td>trail mix </td></tr>
<tr><td>5.6 oz </td><td>800 cal </td><td>Kind bars </td></tr>
<tr><td>16 oz </td><td>1100 cal </td><td>Prunes </td></tr>
<tr><td>5.25 oz </td><td>860 cal </td><td>chocolate bars </td></tr>
<tr><td>123.65 oz </td><td>15020 cal </td><td></td></tr>
<tr><th align="left">Final </th></tr>
<tr><td>16 oz </td><td>1600 cal </td><td>2 salamis </td></tr>
<tr><td>2.4 oz </td><td>250 cal </td><td>1 Clif bar </td></tr>
<tr><td>8 oz </td><td>1600 cal </td><td>salted pecans </td></tr>
<tr><td>1.4 oz </td><td>200 cal </td><td>Kind bar </td></tr>
<tr><td>1.75 oz </td><td>267 cal </td><td>chocolate bars </td></tr>
<tr><td>29.55 oz </td><td>3917 cal </td><td></td></tr>
<tr><th align="left">Consumed </th></tr>
<tr><th align="left">94.1 oz </th></tr>
<tr><th align="left">11103 cal </th></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-50550262094225393622017-07-24T22:00:00.001-04:002017-07-29T11:59:53.271-04:00Intelligentsia Cup 2017<h3>
Summary</h3>
<div>
I did four of nine days of the 2017 Intelligentsia Cup 50+ series, which runs from Saturday to the following Sunday. Each day had a $650 prize list with $200 in primes, put up by a local masters team, <a href="http://www.teammackracing.org/" target="_blank">Team Mack</a>. The four days that I raced each were some of the best organized, most technically challenging, fastest races I did in 2017. Their quality in every respect rivaled or exceeded the best races we have in MABRA. Fields in the 50+ were typically 35 to 45 each day. Racing was so fast, that I could not manage to crack the top half. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All in all, it was an incredible racing experience. </div>
<h4>
Random Observations</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li>I hope I wasn't "that guy" but the line I wanted through every turn was nothing like the line that everyone else wanted. I like the the inside, just kissing the apex of the turn, but everyone else always swung way wide.</li>
<li>Despite the speed and constant attacks, the racing seemed less pointlessly aggressive than east-coast racing. </li>
<li>The speeds were more like a MABRA 35+ criterium. </li>
<li>Midwestern bike chicks: more nose rings, fewer tattoos than east-coast bike chicks. </li>
</ul>
<h4>
Links</h4>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://intelligentsiacup.com/" target="_blank">Intelligentsia Cup</a> Info and schedules</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Day 1: Niles </h3>
<div>
Thursday 2017-07-20</div>
<div>
Description: 6-turn 1km pancake flat criterium with perfect pavement in an early 1960s neighborhood. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had no idea what to expect--I thought I had been riding pretty well in the weeks before, especially in the 55+ races I had done. We started in the mid-afternoon, with the temperatures in the mid-90s. Ugh. I had scoped out the start list before the event, and knew that it was stacked with geezer ringers. I was still getting rolling on the second lap when the first five guys stacked it in one of the turns. Yikes. We rolled several laps behind the moto while the medics cleaned up the damage. Attacks were constant after the restart. I tried to go across to one move, and was rapidly put in my place. I made it, but I had to jack my heart rate to about 195bpm to make it across, which eroded my confidence. Shortly thereafter the winning moved escaped with two Texas Roadhouse and two Florida Velo. With about 8 laps to go, someone a few behind me got Sagan/Cavendish-ed and tangled with the barricades, and we were neutralized again. Weirdly, despite the two serious crashes, and for the rest of the series, the racing was fast, but never aggro. Perhaps it was just midwestern politeness. I sprinted for all I was worth, for 19th place.<br />
<br />
Results: 19/29 classified finishers<br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
Day 2: Elmhurst</h3>
<div>
Friday 2017-07-21</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmjA1AjUwVHij8sDxmGKplvW60rWH6RltbNomRGOXIspSAWa8uhLcASVucjPmn4F46h7NajqvHMcSRPAXwR_rZ4IxAePibDWKy5CWbCjiz5gTaM9t71LRg49mntcbysH32T_Gf-kel9dw/s1600/20170721_174453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmjA1AjUwVHij8sDxmGKplvW60rWH6RltbNomRGOXIspSAWa8uhLcASVucjPmn4F46h7NajqvHMcSRPAXwR_rZ4IxAePibDWKy5CWbCjiz5gTaM9t71LRg49mntcbysH32T_Gf-kel9dw/s640/20170721_174453.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Description: 6-turn 1.5km flat criterium around Elmhurst College</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No matter how hard I worked, I could never get past about 15th wheel. Every prime sprint was agony. I came unglued on the last lap and rolled it in off the back for about 22nd.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The vibe on the course was incredible, and was something I've never seen in MABRA. Fully a third of the houses in the very wealthy neighborhood had outdoor parties going on. At one, a band was setting up on a stage. I crashed one party, and the homeowner (Maui!) explained how the event came about. Before the first year, the promoter had personally knocked on every door. In year five, he thought the entire neighborhood was on board, and actively looked forward to the block-party event.<br />
<br />
Results: 22/31 classified finishers</div>
<h3>
Day 3: Lake Bluff</h3>
<div>
Saturday 2017-07-22<br />
Description: 5-turn 1.25km flat criterium in Downtown Lake Bluff. The course was like a mini-Clarendon, complete with a 180 at the end of the finish straight and an uphill, into-the-wind long finish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was once again still working my way up from the back on the 2nd lap when the field split. Stupidly, I missed the second split, when two Intelligentsia and two Texas Roadhouse guys rolled away. At least this time the group was slow enough that I could at least try to get away a couple times.<br />
<br />
Results: 19/34 classified finishers</div>
<h3>
Day 4: Goose Island </h3>
<div>
Description: 4-turn, 1 block-wide 1.25km criterium with a dogleg on the back stretch and uncharacteristically sketchy pavement. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl06a0NBqeqGNZhPcaGd8k3OWtBu0CJS6K91F_lvCqSASF5u7wG2r4PLg3eO5RmgieUxm0z7AunCy5Gnpxn6gvz13quMwwuGgwKoFbGUe1vj-IYmEL1ZxBaKPQt1cPsBGS_umuSR5tfQp/s1600/GooseIsland2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl06a0NBqeqGNZhPcaGd8k3OWtBu0CJS6K91F_lvCqSASF5u7wG2r4PLg3eO5RmgieUxm0z7AunCy5Gnpxn6gvz13quMwwuGgwKoFbGUe1vj-IYmEL1ZxBaKPQt1cPsBGS_umuSR5tfQp/s640/GooseIsland2017.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goose Island. Photo Credit Brian Lin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This reality of this course turned out to be the most different from what I expected. The start/finish was at the series-sponsor Intelligentsia Coffee's roastery, and the Goose Island Brewery, in an early 20th-century industrial district about two miles west of the Loop. While I was warming up, the breeze alternated between fermenting beer and fermenting garbage. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once again, the racing was just crazy fast, and after three days of beat-down, I was slightly physically and definitely mentally beaten. I spent most of the race recovering from the prime sprints, and when the field wound it up for the final sprint, I found myself going backwards, despite heart rates in the mid 190s again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our old post-doc Brian appeared on the finish stretch as a spectator, so we got to hang out and catch up.<br />
<br />
Results: 26/31 classified finishers</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-32854016931347531282017-06-12T17:56:00.001-04:002017-06-12T17:56:11.594-04:00It's not a safe sport <div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Note: I wrote this the evening of <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">June 16, 2007 when I got home from the race, and haven't edited it since then. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Crystal City Criterium, Arlington, VA</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">June 16, 2007</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
All to frequently we hear about death in cycling. We probably even <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">knew someone who died in competition. Today, those stories touched me </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">personally: I saw a man die right in front of me in a race.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
We lined up this morning for the first Crystal City Criterium in <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Arlington, just north of National Airport. The entry fee was high, but </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">so was the prize money. The course was exciting, and after the Master </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">35+ race, we could stay to watch the pros race after lunch.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
The fifty-rider field contained most of the usual MABRA heavy-hitter <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">masters: Superdave, Ramon B, etc. The course was shaped like a </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">backwards "6." The top of the six went under the overhang of an </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">apartment building, around a 180, a 90 and then down a 600m straight </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">through the finish. </span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
I spent the beginning of the race groveling. I could ride in the <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">field, fifteen guys back, but I couldn't imagine leaving the safety of </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">the group. The pack dynamic wasn't particularly nervous, although my </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">teammate did knock my bars once. The businesslike dynamic is one of </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">the benefits of masters racing. We all know each other, and we've all </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">raced for years: no surprises.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Little moves went all through the race, but nothing got more than a <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">few seconds. With eight laps to go, coming out of the second turn, I'm </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">trying to move up. I'm on</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span class="il" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Keith</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span class="il" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Mitchell</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">'s wheel. It's neither a good </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">nor a bad wheel. He's a 50+ rider, riding way down in age today. </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Despite his slight build, he often pushes a huge gear. He doesn't tend </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">to crash, but sometimes he goes through holes that I don't care to </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">follow him through.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Suddenly, <span class="il">Keith</span> looks to his left at the ground just in front of his <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">bike. His bike starts to slide to the right, as he continues to look </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">at the ground. There was no contact, and even if he had overlapped a </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">wheel, I would have expected him to keep it up. I'm not panicking </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">yet. But he's not straightening it out. The bike continues to the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">right as he goes to the left. I realize that he's going down. Now I'm </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">panicking. There is no exit right or left--I'm right up on him and I'm </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">full on the brakes. He slams into the ground right in front of </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">me. Still no exit appears, and I'm frantically trying to figure out if </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">I can ride over him and not crash. Fortunately for me, the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">coefficient of friction between him and the ground matches the one </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">between my brake pads and my Zipps, and I screech to a halt up against </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">his bike. I unclip to avoid tipping over.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
He's lying on the ground, like so many other guys after a crash, but <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">he's not moving. Spectators are running up. What should I do? It's </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">just a crash, I think, like so many other crashes I've watched, both </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">from the sidelines and from saddle. I clip back in and bury it to try </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">to catch back on. Before the next turn I see</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span class="il" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Keith</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">'s teammate Grant</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Soma circling around and heading back to the crash site. But I'm <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">already lost in an anaerobic fog trying to close the gap before the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">straightaway. I fail to complete the mission, and soon I can see the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">finish line. The group is receding into the distance. I think about </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">giving up, but then I realize that the officials will undoubtedly </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">neutralize the race, so I redouble my efforts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Sure enough, I catch back on just before the second turn before the <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">crash spot. I realize that the situation is bad.</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span class="il" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Keith</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">is lying face </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">down on the pavement, in exactly the same position he was in when I </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">almost ran over him. Emergency personnel ring his prostrate body. I </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">try to think the best, "He hit his head on the way down, and he's just </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">unconscious." But as we roll past, a darker thought comes to mind: his </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">crash was the symptom, and not the cause.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
At the start/finish the officials neutralize us. Rumors circulate <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">through the peloton. Twenty minutes later, the officials restart us </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">with four laps to go. The quick restart is not a good sign. Serious </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">accidents take much longer to clear, because the EMTs want to </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">stabilize the patient. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
We finish our race. I never made it back to the front and chose to sit <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">up in the sprint.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span class="il">Keith</span> <span class="il">Mitchell</span> died of a heart attack. Apparently, the EMT's never <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">found a pulse. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
I have raced against <span class="il">Keith</span> for as long as I can remember. He was an <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">enigmatic figure, for whom I had a grudging admiration. He could be a </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">reckless rider, and he was more frequently on the wrong side of the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">rules than suited me. But we had a friendship of the sort that comes </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">from competition. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
We tried to look at this sad occurrence positively. At some level, <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">don't we all wish we could die doing what we loved? Better to leave </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">this world coming out of the second turn in a $1000 criterium, than to </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">have a massive heart attack sitting on the toilet, or stuck in </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">traffic, or yelling at your kids. </span></div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-80190183266342734422017-02-26T15:40:00.002-05:002017-06-25T10:46:34.947-04:00Monster Cross 2017<h2>
Summary</h2>
Conditions were fast, and the weather was astounding. I actually started the race in short sleeves, with only a base layer under my kit. I staged poorly. I wish the promoter would stage by class and not just one giant wave after the elites go.<br />
<br />
I rode conservatively for the whole race, since I didn't know how I would respond after not racing for nearly seven months. I didn't feel like my usual reckless self, and really dialed down the risk level--I didn't want to start 2017 lying on the ground with a broken collarbone. For the first big lap, I worked my way through the field, and really made up time on the paved uphill section. Although I faded a little after after the halfway point, I didn't notice it, and I felt really indestructible for nearly the entire race.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, at the end of the second big lap, and only nine miles from the finish, we were neutralized as a group so a woman who had crashed could be helicopter evacuated. I had caught (for the second time) 65+ national cyclocross champion <a href="https://www.usacycling.org/results/index.php?compid=38738" target="_blank">Fred Wittwer</a>, and was thinking "podium!" I could spin the neutralization two ways. Negatively, all the guys I had dispensed with on the road all caught back on. Positively, I caught all the guys who had dispensed with me on the twisty hiking-path sections. So it was probably a wash. After the restart, the fight went out of me for a while, unfortunately, and it wasn't until we hit fire-road sections again that I could dial the intensity back up.<br />
<br />
I completely fell apart on the final single-track downhill section less than a mile from the finish. At least ten guys passed me in the final two minutes of a three hour race.<br />
<br />
The finish order was a replay of my racing career. When I was a second-season Category 4, I had more than ten top-ten finishes, but they were nearly all sixth through tenth. If a race paid three places, I was fourth. If it paid seven places, I was eighth. This time I ended up 4th in the 50+: one place off the podium. And like <a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2014/06/hilly-billy-roubaix.html" target="_blank">Hilly Billy Roubaix 2015</a>, where the winner passed me with less than five minutes left, I'm sure the third place guy this year passed me on that single-track section where I came unglued.<br />
<br />
<h3>
The race in graphs</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qjtVxrgiAPA/WLM3f0SfmBI/AAAAAAAAMsU/B20IK-dr0xYizqhTzI5_-S2gUE9_q5kgwCPcB/s1600/monstercross-MCRFade2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qjtVxrgiAPA/WLM3f0SfmBI/AAAAAAAAMsU/B20IK-dr0xYizqhTzI5_-S2gUE9_q5kgwCPcB/s400/monstercross-MCRFade2017.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I faded less toward the end than in past years. The horizontal section is the six minutes I spent during the neutralization. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7KfqEIEHn2o/WLM3f-4uloI/AAAAAAAAMsU/Y4R_okwIx1o2THA2DgICtge7WHf3i_lmwCPcB/s1600/monstercross-MCRDistTime.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7KfqEIEHn2o/WLM3f-4uloI/AAAAAAAAMsU/Y4R_okwIx1o2THA2DgICtge7WHf3i_lmwCPcB/s400/monstercross-MCRDistTime.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All five years compared. I have never been faster. than this year. 2015 was the year of the epic mud bogs, and in 2014 I DNF'd after flatting twice and then getting lost in the woods. I am astounded at how close 2016 and 2017 are for the first 80 minutes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_GLo-sacRMc/WLM3f-WfLrI/AAAAAAAAMsU/TpbNnLU49gcOaaK43dyHKgm_K4Wxt7iCgCPcB/s1600/monstercross-MCRHrateDensity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_GLo-sacRMc/WLM3f-WfLrI/AAAAAAAAMsU/TpbNnLU49gcOaaK43dyHKgm_K4Wxt7iCgCPcB/s400/monstercross-MCRHrateDensity.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I averaged 175bpm for the three hours, even including six minutes standing motionless. I have no idea what was wrong with me in 2016. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h3>
The race in pictures</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KysmdwVEVfM/WLM3w8pVZWI/AAAAAAAAMsU/LSI529mgN0Esefk1Apwl-FB2tMW19CZZQCPcB/s1600/20170219-MonsterCross-withNCVC.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KysmdwVEVfM/WLM3w8pVZWI/AAAAAAAAMsU/LSI529mgN0Esefk1Apwl-FB2tMW19CZZQCPcB/s400/20170219-MonsterCross-withNCVC.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey! I'm with a teammate! A lot of the course is fire roads like this one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v7331DVojxM/WLM3w7KpxWI/AAAAAAAAMsU/Pe68m0G2G3sMpucwaWTOwyzA3eyFiTGrgCPcB/s1600/20170219-MonsterCross-withWittwer-road.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v7331DVojxM/WLM3w7KpxWI/AAAAAAAAMsU/Pe68m0G2G3sMpucwaWTOwyzA3eyFiTGrgCPcB/s400/20170219-MonsterCross-withWittwer-road.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road section. Time to drop the mountain-bike guys. It's always a good sign when you're riding with a national champion. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZiu_8IQcL8/WLM3wyPZs3I/AAAAAAAAMsU/oH8xx2tB0ikdo0Td10-aLq3YnjvuvUK4gCPcB/s1600/20170219-MonsterCross-rocky-stream-crossing.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZiu_8IQcL8/WLM3wyPZs3I/AAAAAAAAMsU/oH8xx2tB0ikdo0Td10-aLq3YnjvuvUK4gCPcB/s400/20170219-MonsterCross-rocky-stream-crossing.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stream crossing. I rode this like a grandmother--I refused to flat. I'm off to the side to try to stay out of everyone's way.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSZt67y_ekw/WLM3w-36gCI/AAAAAAAAMsU/APEUaV5XwzAyoEqZHn9X311V1K0FRZp0ACPcB/s1600/20170219-MonsterCross-steep-gravel.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSZt67y_ekw/WLM3w-36gCI/AAAAAAAAMsU/APEUaV5XwzAyoEqZHn9X311V1K0FRZp0ACPcB/s400/20170219-MonsterCross-steep-gravel.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only steep section on the entire course just after the stream crossing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<h3>
Setup</h3>
<div>
Same as 2016. Crux with hydraulic disk brakes and Challenge Gravel Grinder 38mm tires @ 45 psi (5psi lower than 2016). I'm done with file treads; I'll ride regular cyclocross tires in 2018. Definitely needed more hookup on the twisting sections.</div>
<h2>
Results</h2>
</div>
</div>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "droid serif"; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2017: 49.4 miles in 3:11:42 57/309 overall and 5/46 in the 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2016: 49.4 miles in 3:15:47 82/342 overall and 10/55 in 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2015: 45.4 miles in 3:28:47 58/252 overall and 5/38 in the 50+ </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2014: DNF--two flats before the 1/2-way point</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013: 47.7 miles in 3:05:23 71/382 overall and 9/46 in 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012: 3:17:33 58/336 overall and 12/50 in 40-49</li>
</ul>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "droid serif"; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;"></ul>
<h3>
Links to results</h3>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "droid serif"; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page69" target="_blank">2017</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page51#11M" target="_blank">2016</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page37" style="color: #888888; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">2015</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page24" style="color: #888888; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">2014</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-50-division-resu/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration-line: none;">By Division</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-2012/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration-line: none;">By Division</a> (broken link)</li>
</ul>
<h3>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "droid" serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px;">Strava link</span></span></h3>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/873703245" target="_blank">Strava file for MC2017</a></span></span></li>
</ul>
<h2>
<span style="color: #222222;">Links to previous race summaries</span></h2>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222;"><a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2016/02/monstercross-2016.html" target="_blank">2016</a></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222;"><a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2016/02/monstercross-2016.html" target="_blank">2015</a> </span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-12917063245215796562017-02-22T00:14:00.002-05:002017-02-22T00:17:02.138-05:00On academic integrity<br />
<h2>
The questions</h2>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Should you get to declare a mulligan when you're caught plagiarizing part of your thesis, by just removing the parts you didn't write and then be allowed to keep your degree? Or does this situation constitute a "one and done?"</li>
<li>Bonus question. If you're caught and you get to keep your degree, should you have to acknowledge that your thesis was withdrawn and reissued for ethical revisions?</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h2>
The back story</h2>
In 2015 I reviewed a manuscript for an additive manufacturing journal. It was the first "double blind" review I had ever done--where the author and institution information had been removed from the manuscript. Many problems existed in the manuscript, ranging from the grammatical to the scientific. Chief among the science problems was that the materials science in the explanation of the findings didn't make any sense to me. It just seemed random and unconnected to the experimental results. It was also clear that multiple authors had contributed different sections. That's jarring, but ordinary, in scientific publication where multiple authors contribute.<br />
<br />
I resorted to the cited references to try to understand the confusing discussion of the results. One of them was Iain LeMay's <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Principles-Mechanical-Metallurgy-I-May/dp/0444006125" target="_blank">Principles of Mechanical Metallurgy</a>, which I had on my bookshelf, since I had stolen it from Sandra's box in the attic. Imagine my surprise, when I found an illustration in LeMay that strongly resembled one of the figures from the manuscript. But in LeMay's book it illustrated a very different deformation mechanism, in a completely different material system. And the text surrounding LeMay's illustration appeared nearly verbatim in the manuscript I was reviewing, with just some of the nouns changed.<br />
At this point, I began drafting my rejection of the manuscript on the grounds that the author had plagiarized part of the manuscript. Nearly simultaneously, inter-library loan finally delivered one of the other cited references from the manuscript under review. The rest of the confusing discussion of the manuscript was a nearly word-for-word copy directly from the second reference. The author had not even corrected the direct-from-French-to-English sentence structure that he had plagiarized from the cited work.<br />
<br />
The double-blind nature of the review fascinated me, and I immediately challenged myself to find the identify of the authors. A few Google-scholar searches of unusual phrases from the manuscript made short work of that, and I rapidly identified the US university and research group. As is often the case, the manuscript under review was actually an already published and awarded Masters thesis, which I downloaded from the university archives.<br />
<br />
I repurposed my review of the manuscript, and addressed it to the academic integrity board of the university in question. I included high-lighted versions of both references and the masters thesis that demonstrated the plagiarized sections. After a few weeks, an associate dean at the university informed me that they were investigating the case, and thanked me for my input.<br />
<h4>
The interim</h4>
I didn't expect that the university would keep me informed of the progress of their case or even, for that matter, their decision. Nevertheless, every few months I checked the university's archives to see if the thesis was still available. Within a few months it was gone from the on-line archive without a trace or notice that it been withdrawn.<br />
<br />
In late 2016 my search found the thesis again. It had a new number (like what passes for a DOI at this university), and the plagiarized pages and figures had been excised. But nothing else was different, and no new explanation replaced the missing section. Even the acceptance dates and signatures in the front matter were identical to the original version. There was no statement that the thesis had been revised and resubmitted.<br />
<br />
The changes were literally at most a couple hours of work of cutting and reprinting<br />
<h2>
What did I expect would happen?</h2>
I guess I thought that this would be the end of the student's career. It never occurred to me that the university would just re-issue the thesis with no comment.<br />
<br />
Were there sanctions for the thesis advisor and committee? I have no idea, and probably could never find out. But the advisor <b>had</b> to know that his student did not write the entire thesis--if I could discern multiple authors in one reading of the manuscript.<br />
<h3>
Questions</h3>
<br />
<ul>
<li>Is this outcome fair? Or right? </li>
<li>Should plagiarism be an academic death sentence? After all, if I stick up a liquor store, get caught, but return the money, I still committed the crime, and will be charged and probably serve time. (Though I won't get the electric chair)</li>
<li>If a student plagiarizes (or invents data), should the advisor also be sanctioned? </li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-73462705860821666372017-02-20T19:41:00.002-05:002017-02-20T19:41:54.325-05:00Caverngasm 2016<h3>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The 2016 Hyland-Luecke road trip them was "Caverngasm 2016. It takes its name from a chapter on the "Civil Wargasm" road trip in Tony Horwitz book </span><i style="font-weight: normal;">Confederates in the Attic</i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> (</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confederates_in_the_Attic" style="font-weight: normal;" target="_blank">link</a><span style="font-weight: normal;">) My original idea was that we would visit </span>every<span style="font-weight: normal;"> commercial cavern in Virginia. Anything worth doing is worth doing to excess. I'm glad we didn't. By the end, we were caverned out, and even though there was time for one more, neither of us wanted to. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
After a few caverns, I was convinced that every owner must subscribe to a trade magazine probably titled "Cavern Owner's Monthly." The tours were all very similar. Most interesting were the origin stories, most of which involved some boys and an animal:</div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Endless Caverns: "According to the tour operators, the cave was discovered by two boys in October 1879, while hunting rabbits " (Wikipedia)</div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Grand Caverns: "The cavern system was discovered in 1804 by 18-year-old Bernard Weyer, a young trapper, looking for his missing trap."</div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Dixie Caverns: "The caverns were found by a couple farm boys back in 1920 after their dog fell through a hole that led to the caves." </div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
So, if you want to find a cave, employ some boys and a dog.</div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Also, every cavern has to be somehow unique. Endless Caverns: "The longest commercial cave tour in the state of VA!" Grand Caverns: "America's oldest show cavern." Shenandoah Caverns: Virginia's only cavern with elevator service!" and "best cave bacon!" </div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<br />
Since I was still in the agonies of my National Championship crash-induced sciatica, I was able to check out the area around every hotel every night as well. </div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<h4>
Ratings</h4>
</div>
<ul style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
<li>Best formations: tie: Grand Caverns or Shenandoah caverns</li>
<li>Best Tourguide: Natural Bridge Caverns</li>
<li>Best tour experience: Endless Caverns, because we were the only two on the tour. </li>
<li>Don't bother: Natural Bridge Caverns--this is like going in a mine rather than in a cave.</li>
</ul>
</h3>
<h3>
Day 1 Two caverns</h3>
<div>
After a mostly on-time departure, we hit Endless Caverns, just outside New Market, VA for the 10AM tour. Score--we were the only people, so we got a personalized tour from Maria, our very charming tour guide. Endless Caverns is more of an RV park with an attached cavern. The formations are nice but not spectacular, but they haven't been endlessly beaten up like the ones in Grand Caverns. The private tour made up for the formations. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_Y84j9ho8MRUzcLiv_kH_4adqcQJg55k3vjbCK2eM8O0dmN7_bfvosfYlP5fuqT6BPsQJOL4VDBIVtGlGTBR0vAPvFYVGpaozIAYM_O8e0gfLW7k3nC_R-GpD43pqKcrcqxH-HCKIRZu/s1600/20160809_111055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_Y84j9ho8MRUzcLiv_kH_4adqcQJg55k3vjbCK2eM8O0dmN7_bfvosfYlP5fuqT6BPsQJOL4VDBIVtGlGTBR0vAPvFYVGpaozIAYM_O8e0gfLW7k3nC_R-GpD43pqKcrcqxH-HCKIRZu/s400/20160809_111055.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra and I in the "Cathedral Room" just before the cavern exit. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After a quick lunch at a Mexican restaurant in New Market, we headed for Grand Caverns in Grottoes.</div>
<div>
Grand Caverns bills itself as "America's Oldest Show Cave," since it opened for business in 1806. Unlike Endless Caverns, Grand Caverns was mobbed with people shuffling along in both directions (the caverns are mostly linear in and back out. The formations were certainly more spectacular than Endless Caverns, but also showed a lot more abuse. Almost all of the individual stalactites near the paths were broken off, presumably from the 19th century. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We detoured onto the Blue Ridge Parkway on our way to overnight in Lexington, and stopped at the Humpback Rocks visitor center to check out the chickens. The visitor center tries to recreate a late 19th century homestead as it would have been in the hills. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiteAZ5sxleEhaM6-eX4VAEwmhk3mXBrjys_2bWxkyJGTf8ZXRb-2xqjg6gyo3EpXfWu-W9gSNSqYXvVGbt1DU1Z2Dsl0xuheDa-a4KB6ByzNerq7AZJ5WDMAoiZ8Ohathq1qphNr8FGj/s1600/20160809_161418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiteAZ5sxleEhaM6-eX4VAEwmhk3mXBrjys_2bWxkyJGTf8ZXRb-2xqjg6gyo3EpXfWu-W9gSNSqYXvVGbt1DU1Z2Dsl0xuheDa-a4KB6ByzNerq7AZJ5WDMAoiZ8Ohathq1qphNr8FGj/s320/20160809_161418.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBtfZtBpsDodu04OPMdtKKee3tnpq_2aHe7cj44lHiBYT1vGMT0616yGw7yKg5LLJhLWYvzeJXgbfcWF63dv3WOYUBLhkdt0gW1njfr0VIKRmGqSf9kpfmhS9gkwPThjZZMcSKhIOpgis/s1600/20160809_163141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBtfZtBpsDodu04OPMdtKKee3tnpq_2aHe7cj44lHiBYT1vGMT0616yGw7yKg5LLJhLWYvzeJXgbfcWF63dv3WOYUBLhkdt0gW1njfr0VIKRmGqSf9kpfmhS9gkwPThjZZMcSKhIOpgis/s640/20160809_163141.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra lectures the heirloom chickens (They are <a href="https://livestockconservancy.org/index.php/heritage/internal/dominique" target="_blank">Dominiques</a>--America's First Chicken Breed!--this was clearly a trip of superlatives.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<h4>
Night walk observations: </h4>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Dude with a headlamp weeding a traffic island at 4:30AM. </li>
<li>Face to face with a skunk rooting through trash bags (the skunk, not me) Interestingly, I had smelled him (her?) 20 minutes before, while I was several blocks away.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkwxSbsqqIVZ2MhDG9AIgfXMoMZLWeuP0de6Ccnp3EVzx55XwBfuWPPMe35OQo1alFqqGmLfo5LT2k93x30eVwqjR0L_QMWgAAYU5j8oHq9i-47N6CtTxfl-1MbUPUV3ZV74bANTZyJrQ/s1600/20160810_052137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkwxSbsqqIVZ2MhDG9AIgfXMoMZLWeuP0de6Ccnp3EVzx55XwBfuWPPMe35OQo1alFqqGmLfo5LT2k93x30eVwqjR0L_QMWgAAYU5j8oHq9i-47N6CtTxfl-1MbUPUV3ZV74bANTZyJrQ/s400/20160810_052137.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Face to face with a friendly skunk out looking for a late-night snack. (He's right by the doorway in the center of the frame. I didn't want to get too much closer!) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Special-needs guy doing a booming business selling newspapers at the corner at 5AM (I bought one too). Everyone who drove by seemed to stop and chat and buy a paper. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<h4>
Details</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://endlesscaverns.com/" target="_blank">Endless Caverns</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.grandcaverns.com/" target="_blank">Grand Caverns</a></li>
<li>Dinner: <a href="http://southerninn.com/" target="_blank">Southern Inn</a> I had the Fried Chcken (delicious). Sandra had the tuna steak (too salty)</li>
<li>Overnight: <a href="http://roberteleehotel.com/" target="_blank">Robert E Lee Hotel</a>, Lexington VA. Great old hotel, newly renovated. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Day 2 More caverns and some trains</h3>
<div>
Natural Bridge may be the oldest tourist trap in the country. The owners have been charging visitors for more than 200 years. As usual, I would have liked more history of the place, which also has a reenacted native american village and A CAVERN! We took in the cavern, whose tour guide was the most engaging of the four we visited. The cavern, which opened in the 70s, unfortunately was the least engaging of the ones we visited. It's more like going down in a hand-dug mine than a cavern.<br />
<br />
Fun facts about Natural Bridge:<br />
<ul>
<li>Thomas Jefferson bought it from the King of England in the 18th century. </li>
<li>TJ mined a cave on the property for guano to make gunpowder in the war of 1812.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiscy1IgSlqanR7Iq8oqo4CB-spEClO-zyjaGlp8tQPjJn5rjkEW1Aa8jqOwwdlNMDnCWh2M5cQHtyAMrz47AHguHNCGZCf4Aj-TAlrdPxMZFVzcMOGndgCo45PJxG2r2veMzhG0VrIQhab/s1600/20160810_102848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiscy1IgSlqanR7Iq8oqo4CB-spEClO-zyjaGlp8tQPjJn5rjkEW1Aa8jqOwwdlNMDnCWh2M5cQHtyAMrz47AHguHNCGZCf4Aj-TAlrdPxMZFVzcMOGndgCo45PJxG2r2veMzhG0VrIQhab/s640/20160810_102848.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra pointing at Natural Bridge. The highway actually goes over the arch. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwl8QuMPLVZaE74Dtn2Eh3mTj0AEhMRc2xMW6DN12k8kaAiYEZ4VNDcWCm2dNq83OHtSkJaWoP8aDeJbw9wh9HN0gG5yw4fD0KS82b4FSxXk6YH9sDgWstEvnnKF-Nat48cTpGkQR-12Y/s1600/20160810_111625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwl8QuMPLVZaE74Dtn2Eh3mTj0AEhMRc2xMW6DN12k8kaAiYEZ4VNDcWCm2dNq83OHtSkJaWoP8aDeJbw9wh9HN0gG5yw4fD0KS82b4FSxXk6YH9sDgWstEvnnKF-Nat48cTpGkQR-12Y/s640/20160810_111625.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra Hyland pointing to the entrance to Thomas Jefferson's bat-poop cave. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
How did I miss the Roanoke Museum of Transportation? Oh,right, I planned this entire trip in just a few days. We only found it because I googled what was in the area during our lunch stop there. We didn't leave anywhere near enough time. An actual working steam train had pulled in the day before and was still leaking water when we checked it out. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcHUR_i7wwYrLkSqosTeKKHOWkSzTCto6jSQldO2q3nMVGpjRcTEVTk2oXqmRRXNztCxEYzesjTimFgU3NOCv4tdW3TddYfOJnkxqMEkib3bip88EoXiKmcpZhktVreIthZLQ4udRVUDD/s1600/20160810_150523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcHUR_i7wwYrLkSqosTeKKHOWkSzTCto6jSQldO2q3nMVGpjRcTEVTk2oXqmRRXNztCxEYzesjTimFgU3NOCv4tdW3TddYfOJnkxqMEkib3bip88EoXiKmcpZhktVreIthZLQ4udRVUDD/s640/20160810_150523.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h4>
Blacksburg night walk observations: </h4>
<h4>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<ul>
<li>Not too much to see in an industrial park at 4AM. Two cute cats sleeping in the middle of the road. </li>
</ul>
</div>
</h4>
<h4>
Details</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.naturalbridgeva.com/" target="_blank">Natural Bridge and Cavern</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.vmt.org/" target="_blank">Roanoke Museum of Transportation</a></li>
<li>Dinner Ceritano's Blackburg with Peggy Laine</li>
<li>Overnight: Microtel Christiansburg</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Day 3 Asheville</h3>
<div>
Wow, the streets were mobbed for a Thursday lunchtime: aging hippies, street kids, millenials with man-buns and batik-print skirts. All these people can't have come just for the Biltmore. I could see myself living here, especially for the riding. Literally two blocks from our downtown hotel we were on the base of a 350 m climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway.<br />
We walked to the downtown theater after dinner to see <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4698684/" target="_blank">Hunt for the Wilderpeople</a>: charming without being saccharine.<br />
Two thumbs up for the historic Princess Anne Hotel. Expensive, but not as expensive as the new hotels on the downtown side of the interstate. We slept through (oops) the complimentary wine and cheese-plate happy hour. </div>
<h4>
Details</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Lunch: <a href="http://curatetapasbar.com/" target="_blank">Curate Tapas Bar</a></li>
<li>Overnight: <a href="http://princessannehotel.com/" target="_blank">Princess Anne Hotel</a></li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Night wandering</h3>
<div>
I slept until 5AM, which was great, so I was able to walk for coffee when I woke up. </div>
<h3>
Day 4 Blue Ridge Parkway and Valle Crucis</h3>
<div>
It was going to be long drive back to Blacksburg, and we made it longer by taking the Blue Ridge Parkway right out of Asheville. Great driving Sandra's Mini instead of my tank-like Subaru. Mid-drive we stopped at the Mast General Store in Valle Crucis, where Sandra's mom had gone to high school for several years. Unfortunately, the <a href="http://www.wataugademocrat.com/news/one-confirmed-dead-in-valle-landing-fire/article_ea18e5cb-a198-5a91-9744-435f09d9f0bc.html" target="_blank">building next to the store had caught fire</a> and burned, and the road was closed. </div>
<div>
We tried to make it to Dixie Caverns (discovered by a boy and his dog, of course) but the day was late, my leg hurt, and we were both tired. </div>
<h4>
Details</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Dinner: The Cellar, Blacksburg</li>
<li>Overnight: Microtel Blacksburg</li>
</ul>
<div>
<h3>
Night wandering</h3>
</div>
</div>
<div>
Young woman, all dressed up, sitting on the curb of the Microtel at 2AM crying into her phone. Later she was wandering around the industrial park like me, but was gone by the time I completed my second lap.</div>
<h3>
Day 5 One more cavern before going home</h3>
<div>
Shenendoah Caverns caverned us out.<br />
<br />
Shenandoah Caverns also has a giant exhibit of Rose-Parade floats,, department store animated window displays from the 1950s and 1960s, and the stage of some political party national convention. Roadside museums are the best.<br />
<br />
Finally, the caverngasm was over--we didn't have the energy to stop at either Luray or Skyline caverns.</div>
<div>
<h4>
Details</h4>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://shenandoahcaverns.com/" target="_blank">Shenandoah Caverns</a> </li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<h4>
<br /></h4>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-43332804843218869842016-02-28T17:04:00.002-05:002016-02-28T17:04:55.267-05:00MonsterCross 2016<br />
<h3>
Outcome</h3>
I started well, but did get passed by too many people in the first thirty minutes before settling into a good rhythm. Around the halfway point, the front shifting started to go bad, and soon the crankset was hitting the chain keeper. There was a lot of metal-on-metal shrieking. I think that that added resistance didn't help my time.<br />
I rode conservatively, perhaps a bit too conservatively. Conditions were ideal: dry, and about 50F at the start.<br />
<h3>
Diagnostics</h3>
<div>
The two plots below show how badly I faded on the second lap. I suppose that could be due to the grinding crankset. </div>
<div>
The dashed red lines are regressions to the first sixty minutes of the race in 2016 and 2015. In 2015 I actually went <i>faster</i> during the middle of the race. In 2016, the wheels started to come off about an hour in. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a7CniFHfVgo/VtNrFd6WgxI/AAAAAAAAJkA/nd3Nr-3natQ/s1600/monstercross-MCRFade2016.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a7CniFHfVgo/VtNrFd6WgxI/AAAAAAAAJkA/nd3Nr-3natQ/s400/monstercross-MCRFade2016.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUNzM12RACI/VtNrFWDkzVI/AAAAAAAAJkA/i_9WsP1oRtk/s1600/monstercross-MCRFade2015.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUNzM12RACI/VtNrFWDkzVI/AAAAAAAAJkA/i_9WsP1oRtk/s400/monstercross-MCRFade2015.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Heart rate was also off from previous years:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7g53X5Yvy8g/VtNtQTxoAEI/AAAAAAAAJkY/WaqA_9bWU5s/s1600/monstercross-MCRHrateDensity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7g53X5Yvy8g/VtNtQTxoAEI/AAAAAAAAJkY/WaqA_9bWU5s/s400/monstercross-MCRHrateDensity.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<h3>
Course</h3>
<div>
The course was longer than in 2015, and some of the nastier muddy narrow-track was gone. All that made a cyclocross bike the right choice. The new section was added to the mini-loop of 2012-2015, across the pedestrian bridge near the start. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Most of the course is fire roads:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KK1UasIe8sw/Vs6E6FfzkWI/AAAAAAAAJg0/7R3TDJef3ik/s1600/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h28m35s766.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KK1UasIe8sw/Vs6E6FfzkWI/AAAAAAAAJg0/7R3TDJef3ik/s640/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h28m35s766.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was near this guy for 40 of the 50 miles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
About 20% is narrower track</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jS6cH0B-lD4/Vs6E6Ee6aOI/AAAAAAAAJg0/p6XFKqiv-Sk/s1600/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h30m19s391.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jS6cH0B-lD4/Vs6E6Ee6aOI/AAAAAAAAJg0/p6XFKqiv-Sk/s640/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h30m19s391.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With some stream crossings thrown in.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-or9cFIKuOvA/Vs6E6AL-TXI/AAAAAAAAJg0/CilA8hhm71E/s1600/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h31m16s218.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-or9cFIKuOvA/Vs6E6AL-TXI/AAAAAAAAJg0/CilA8hhm71E/s640/vlcsnap-2016-02-24-23h31m16s218.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<h3>
Gear</h3>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2q2-kvbYYXo/Vs6Fp_7zaZI/AAAAAAAAJhI/b6q9VqYcf-Y/s1600/20160221_083602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2q2-kvbYYXo/Vs6Fp_7zaZI/AAAAAAAAJhI/b6q9VqYcf-Y/s640/20160221_083602.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<ul style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Specialized Crux</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Stans No-Tubes alpha 340 with Challenge "Gravel Grinder" 38s @ 50psi</li>
</ul>
Nearly crashed once while plowing a furrow with the bars turned 45 degrees. I could have used more hookup in the turns. But maybe that would have been detrimental in the wide-open sections.
<br />
<h3>
Results
</h3>
</div>
</div>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2016: 49.4 miles in 3:15:47 82/342 overall and 10/55 in 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2015: 45.4 miles in 3:28:47 58/252 overall and 5/38 in the 50+ </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2014: DNF--two flats before the 1/2-way point</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013: 47.7 miles in 3:05:23 71/382 overall and 9/46 in 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012: 3:17:33 58/336 overall and 12/50 in 40-49</li>
</ul>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;"></ul>
<h3>
Links to results</h3>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page51#11M" target="_blank">2016</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page37" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">2015</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page24" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">2014</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-50-division-resu/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">By Division</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-2012/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">By Division</a> (broken link)</li>
</ul>
<h4>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "droid" serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px;">Strava link</span></span></h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/500854715" style="font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px;" target="_blank">Strava</a></li>
</ul>
<h4>
Travel</h4>
</div>
<div>
Less than 2 hours door to door. Got there at 8:05 in plenty of time</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-77227573962064800012016-01-26T15:41:00.003-05:002016-01-26T15:41:58.667-05:002015 MABRA racing analysis<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
On and off since 2001 I've produced a year-end statistical analysis of racing for races that have been run under the auspices of the MidAltantic Bicycle Association. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexZk1SlkJYeE57_HDvjQ9x8BXUR5ZNkIm4cqe5qUPkxVQ_29BnMayD1PswDCod_TZzX-H8mETNqIg9BXtbHlodychhT5PIwM3QhPU26S6U1vHvonkjOY9vVL013_rJbP7YPPXmKrHBd1f/s1600/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexZk1SlkJYeE57_HDvjQ9x8BXUR5ZNkIm4cqe5qUPkxVQ_29BnMayD1PswDCod_TZzX-H8mETNqIg9BXtbHlodychhT5PIwM3QhPU26S6U1vHvonkjOY9vVL013_rJbP7YPPXmKrHBd1f/s400/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">USACycling Demographics through the ages. Note that the peak in the distribution is moving at almost one year per year. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This little blog post is just a place holder for the link to the PDF version of the report Here's the link to the actual <a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B5FYFO672qrea1lNOTVTc3Raa3M" target="_blank">report</a>.<br />
<br />
Notes: The 2001 version has absolutely horrific "Excel" style graphics and was six pages long.bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-48735326868213813352016-01-18T11:54:00.000-05:002016-01-18T12:08:55.030-05:002015 Spring bike trip<h2>
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</h2>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
Base of Operations</h2>
<div>
<a href="https://www.homeaway.com/vacation-rental/p3779599" target="_blank">High Mountain Chalet</a> at Bryce Resort on Mosby Hill Rd. </div>
<h2>
The Cast</h2>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Glenn Swan: 1989-2015</li>
<li>Jay Romick: 1989-2015</li>
<li>Ernie Bayles 1990(?)-2015 (one year missing)</li>
<li>Bruce Barkley 1992 (?) -2015</li>
<li>Bill Luecke 1992-2015</li>
<li>Ed Duell 1993-?; 2011-2015</li>
<li>Brian Thompson 20??-20??; 2014-2015</li>
<li>Bill Erickson: 2012-2015</li>
<li>Tom Snyder 2011-2015</li>
<li>Ted Barber: 2014-2015</li>
<li>Dennis (Day 3 and 4 only)</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div>
<br /></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5v4-XpSijg0/VTmutAj_FsI/AAAAAAAAGuY/b1ATuj4oH7w/s1600/IMG_20150416_093635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5v4-XpSijg0/VTmutAj_FsI/AAAAAAAAGuY/b1ATuj4oH7w/s1600/IMG_20150416_093635.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 1: Ed Duell, Me, Glenn Swan, Jay Romick, Bruce Barkley, Ernie Bayles, Bill Erickson, Brian Thompson (photographer is Tom Snyder)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<h2>
Day 0, Weds April 15</h2>
I picked up Ed Duell at Dulles, and we did a 2 hour ride from the Marshall Park-n-ride.<br />
<h2>
Day 1, Thursday April 16</h2>
Bushwhacking<br />
Once again I forgot to do my own field checking of the atlas maps, which led to a long section of bushwhacking and stream crossing. The DeLorme atlases are based on the USGS maps, which for this area of Virginia have not been field-checked since the 1950s. After we came down from Supinlick Ridge, and got some local intelligence, we ended up quickly at a stream crossing. We were all in high spirits and forged across one, and then another.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbpLYpmm-DZP4KmTPcQ8tMExbJNuOfdUiQ41IJkKzf-lbY44mFpIFLyKBATIld4juTFOr_LEZJtNWYHv7SuVx4njpgtdFV5SRMjWp5GqAbvSNALZdnWfsdj25PDTXNta8Y75-outFAY_H/s1600/IMG_20150416_112936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbpLYpmm-DZP4KmTPcQ8tMExbJNuOfdUiQ41IJkKzf-lbY44mFpIFLyKBATIld4juTFOr_LEZJtNWYHv7SuVx4njpgtdFV5SRMjWp5GqAbvSNALZdnWfsdj25PDTXNta8Y75-outFAY_H/s400/IMG_20150416_112936.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting to cross the last good stream crossing before beginning the bushwhacking.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Across the second stream was an even more enticing omen: a closed gate labeled "Road Closed." The gauntlet was thrown down.<br />
We rapidly ended up in a clear-cut field, and then were bushwacking back toward the the stream we had just crossed, looking for the road shown on the map. We crossed over stream several more times, until we came out in a little development, in the backyard of a woman gardening. She graciously waved us on through her yard.<br />
Amazingly, and as a testament to our newly developed common sense, when it started raining at lunch on the croquet field behind the Fulks Run General Store, we turned around and went back to the base. So cold; so very cold...<br />
<br />
Link to Strava summary
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/286721396/embed/6c5e401143467e2e5395b83fc7718a9ef149f527" width="590"></iframe>
<br />
<h2>
Day 2, Friday April 17</h2>
The second day was definitely the Queen Stage. We started almost immediately by crossing the stream behind the lodge on a bridge made from two I beams. From there it was over the mountain on Crooked Run Rd, which turned out to be a scenic, epic dirt climb, as expected. The descent into Lost River tested the hydraulic disks pretty well.<br />
From there we shot for another road on the map, which of course turned out not to really exist. Or at least it hadn't existed as a road in at least two decades. We hit a "private property" sign, and in another fit of complete sanity, we turned back.<br />
Fortunately (or not--see below) we chatted up a local out painting his fence, who said that "no one cares" so we reversed and pushed on. The lower stretches of the climb were pretty, wooded, and smooth. After lunch, and a stream crossing, the final 1.5 miles of the climb turned out to be a complete core workout, with 15% grades and baby-head boulders. The post-action debriefing revealed that we should have turned back and ridden up the main road another mile to a dirt road that snaked along the state line. We probably would have had time to take the long way home.<br />
Nevertheless, the downhill was completely epic--at least 5 miles of single-lane gravel/dirt with exactly zero guard rails, sketchy switchbacks. I'm sure the views were spectacular, but I was otherwise involved in trying to extend the event horizon. As usual, I started the descent at the back and passed everyone. I was unable to shake Ted Barber, who rode heroically in the match up of traditional cantilevers vs hydraulic disk brakes. I could not have stayed with him on a traditional cross bike.<br />
My reaction during the descent was fascinating: absolutely no fear. The entire descent was basically an intellectual exercise in maintaining control. I nearly overcooked one turn when I was distracted by trying to understand why I wasn't afraid.<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQR0m1nCv5c" target="_blank">Link to video of downhill (unedited) </a><br />
I flatted right at the bottom of the descent, though probably because of an impromptu off-road segment when I turned to see where Ted was.<br />
The rest of the ride back to the house took us through the Methodist camp at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orkney_Springs,_Virginia" target="_blank">Orkney Springs</a> and a well-deserved gin and tonic<br />
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and our traditional Jay-Romick-prepared paella dinner on deck.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Link to Strava:
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/288080421/embed/55c8006bbe08e91b910c37f48d0261c0f93ced21" width="590"></iframe>
<br />
<h2>
Day 3 Saturday, April 18</h2>
After turning over the route-planning for the day to Glenn, we carefully made sure that we only took maps that contained areas that we were not planning to ride. That lead to a lot of GPS checking. The first destination was Wolf Gap. I was confused by the signage on Johnstown Rd, which indicated "Road Ends." It had been several years since I had been up this road, and was worried it the National Forest Rd had been closed. But it was open and we rolled up and over the Gap. We came back from Wardensville on FR 82, going the opposite way from 2013 and 2005(?). <br />
On this traverse of the road Bruce's friend Dennis started to fade. Before the climb back up to Judge Rye Rd we took an executive decision and sent him and Bruce down to WV253 to wait for pickup.<br />
Judge Rye Rd was in tremendous condition--very little gravel on hard-packed clay. I flew down the descent, despite pulling my foot twice trying to bunny hop holes.<br />
<br />
Link to Strava summary:
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/288080413/embed/bf1705c7caf0b9fc48240ebaba56afe299f7b3f4" width="590"></iframe>
<br />
<h2>
Day 4 Sunday April 19</h2>
<div>
Just a short roll around before everyone had to pack up and go. </div>
<div>
Our accounting procedures (a long-tradition, always involving a piece of cardboard rescued from the trash) are worthy of a big-four firm:</div>
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<div>
$180 per person for four days of adventure. </div>
<h2>
Postscript</h2>
<div>
Less than a month after we all parted on that Sunday, we got word that Brian Thompson had died suddenly and unexpectedly. </div>
<br />
<br />bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-20232507562753997912015-10-07T22:40:00.001-04:002022-06-30T19:45:33.730-04:00USAC rules through the agesI recently bought a 1923 Amateur Bicycle League of America (ABLA) rule book on E-bay. It came with an actual 1923 junior racing license as well! ABLA (founded 1921) was the predecessor of the United States Cycling Federation (USCF) (renamed 1975) and USACycling (chartered to absorb USCF in 1995).<br>
<br>
In reading the original rule book, I kept feeling deja vu--like I had read those rules before. I laid the original against some of the other version of the rule book. The continuity of rules is striking. Here are some examples.<br>
<h3>
Race Permits</h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1923</b> "V Sec. 10 No sanction shall be issued to a professional promoter until a full list of the prizes and their value a re submitted by the promoter. These prizes shall be in the hands of the Referee before .the start of the meet."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977</b> V Section 2 "No sanction shall be issued to a promoter until a full prize list and their value is submitted by the promoter. These prizes shall be in the hands of the Referee before the start of the meet."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>2015</b> Part 3(g) "For each race, the specific kinds of event, the distance(s), the total amount of the prize lists, the nature of the prizes (cash, merchandise, combination thereof, or other), the number of places that will receive prizes, and the dollar value for each place receiving prizes. If cash is to be awarded, the minimum value will be shown."</blockquote>
When I used to process the MABRA permits, this was one of my favorite rules.<br>
<h3>
Rider Transfers</h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1922</b> VIII.-Release System Sec. l. Any rider leaving a club shall compete in open competition for a period of one year. The date of acceptance of resignation by the former club shall be the period when the "unattached" penalty takes effect. This shall not apply to a man who has not joined another club, and rejoins his former club. ... No club shall unjustifiably hold a rider who has made application for resignation . </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977 Section 8 (Parts 1-8)</b> "A rider resigning from a club shall compete as 'unattached' for a period of six(6) months or until December 31, whichever period is less"</blockquote>
And then it goes on for seven (!) more sections on the mechanics of transfers.<br>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I can't find any reference to any sanctions for changing clubs in the 2015 rule book. I guess we can change clubs as often as we want now. </span></h4>
<h3>
Amateurs</h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1923</b> 1. An amateur sportsman is one who engages in sport solely for the pleasure and physical, mental or social benefits he derives therefrom...</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For this class of riders, prizes are limited to a value of $35 for first prize... </blockquote>
(that's about $500 in 2015 dollars)<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977</b> I 1.10 An amateur sportsman is one who engages in sport solely for the pleasure and physical, mental or social benefits he derives therefrom.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>2015</b> Amateur Class: The amateur class comprises riders in the
senior/elite age group (19-29) who are not members of UCI
teams, or, in the case of women, not on domestic elite teams.</blockquote>
I wonder if the 1923 version is directly from the International Olympic committee. <br>
<h3>
Categories and Upgrades</h3>
<div>
I've always loved the fine tuning of the upgrade rules. They've really grown much more complex.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1923</b> A rider shall be held to be a novice until he shall have won a prize, other than a survivor's token, in a competition in that class... The winning of such a prize shall prevent his future competition as a novice ion that class...</blockquote>
I can think of a lot of people who would wish that USAC would go back to this rule. <br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977</b> 1.21 Third Category. Any senior making application for a license for the first time, or any junior passing from junior to senior category unless he has qualified by his performance as a junior for a second category license.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1.26 A fourth category, or novice category shall be set up for all novice riders. They shall compete in this category until they prove competency. The same upgrading as is outlined in 1.22 shall be in effect, plus the rider shall demonstrate safety and competency in qualifying events, so as to progress to category three.</blockquote>
Eventually, USACycling had to add a category 5 (around 2000?) to handle the massive growth in memberships.<br>
The upgrade rules now are too long to reprint..<br>
<h3>
Uniforms</h3>
<div>
Everyone loves the uniform rules. Who knew that they went back to the beginning of time?</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1923</b> Racing costumes shall be such as to cover the shoulders and breeches must reach to within about four inches of the knees. All breeches (knee tight) must be black in color, though shirts of any color may be used. These requirements must be strictly enforced by the referee.</blockquote>
I'm not calling it a "kit" anymore--definitely calling it a "costume." And I'm only going to wear "bib breeches."<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977</b> Racing jerseys shall be such as to cover the shoulders... Cycling shorts shall be black in color and should reach within approximately 8 inches of the knees... socks shall be white and shall be worn on the road, though no socks need be worn on the track.</blockquote>
I grew up in the black shorts and white socks era. I had the nastiest collection of gray socks, since it was impossible to keep them white after the first ride in the rain.<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>2015</b> 1J5. Jerseys must be worn in all races and shall cover the shoulders. </blockquote>
Praises! Bring back the red shorts! And thank god for black socks.<br>
<h3>
Rider behavior </h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1923</b> Any rider, trainer, attendant, or any other person who at any time and in an place uses improper language to an officer of a meet, or is guilty of any improper conduct toward such officers while serving under them, when such conduct or language shall have reference to acts and things connected with the administration of the meeting, or race thereof, shall be punished by suspension for such length of time as the Referee may decide.</blockquote>
This rule is pretty amazing--don't bad-mouth the officiating!<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>1977</b> Any rider, trainer, attendant, or any other person who at any time and in an place uses improper language to an officer of a meet, or is guilty of any improper conduct toward such officers while serving under them, when such conduct or language shall have reference to acts and things connected with the administration of the meeting, or race thereof, shall be punished by suspension for such length of time as the District Representative and /or Chairman of the Board of Control may decide.</blockquote>
Unchanged for fifty years!<br>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>2015</b> 1N6. Abuse. (a) No rider or other licensee may be disrespectful toward
anyone at a race. (b) No rider or other licensee may use foul or abusive
language or conduct during a race event.</blockquote>
<h3>
Some other interesting historical rules</h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1977 2.23 If the organizer of a road race wishes to forbid road bicycles, he should so specify in the rules of the event. </blockquote>
I've seen pictures from the mid-1960s of fixed gears competing against derailleur bikes --perhaps this rule is leftover from then. bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-50251149866383921412015-06-28T23:49:00.002-04:002015-07-07T22:26:09.016-04:002015 Hilly Billy Roubaix<h2>
Executive Summary</h2>
Even more rain that 2014. Seriously couldn't see crap on any of the downhills. Many more potholes, and deep, deep mud.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="640" mozallowfullscreen="" msallowfullscreen="" oallowfullscreen="" src="https://www.flickr.com/photos/photogrif-mike/18620450703/in/album-72157652853953864/player/" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="426"></iframe>
<br />
<h2>
Race summary</h2>
Tom Snyder, Rob Campbell, and I awoke to rain at the Euro-trash Suites in Morgantown. After driving to Mylan Park, we stood in the pouring rain on the line during the rider meeting. I had no will to warm up, We rolled out to the main road and stood some more in the pouring rain.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, I wasn't anxious about the start or the upcoming test. I was worried that I would be too disengaged to go hard enough.<br />
<br />
Finally we were racing. As usual we hit John Fox Rd 2 miles into the race, and we were on to the gravel. Even if I had wanted to go too hard, I couldn't do it. I couldn't get a deep breath. I probably lost fifteen places in the first mile of gravel. To compound problems, the rain was heavy, my glasses were fogged, and muddy, and I couldn't see far enough to let it rip. But I soon settled into good rhythm. I was never particularly anxious during the rest of the race, and I wasn't ever scared of the remaining distance.<br />
<br />
I took back some places on the next road section, but soon enough we were back on the gravel on the approach to Lower Indian Creek. Wait, what's banging against my leg? Crap. The seat-tube bottle cage has unscrewed. I give up another 10 places unscrewing the cage. It seemed like I was standing by the side of the track for hours, but when I reviewed the video, it was only about 40 seconds. I still can't see anything on the next downhill, so I'm riding the screaming brakes,<br />
<br />
We cross a hub-deep stream and enter Lower Indian Creek Extension. Now we're on a single-track trail, which accentuates the limitation of the file-tread tires I've chosen. The front wheel washes out, and down I go, in slow motion. I get rolling again, and immediately crash again. And we're not even on Lower Indian creek proper. I opt to run the next stream crossing. For the next five minutes I go around, and sometimes through giant mud bogs. (After the race I ran into last-year's winner, who went wide to the left and over the edge and down the embankment and taco'd his front wheel.) Finally we're back on the road and I start to make back most of the places I lost on the technical section.<br />
<br />
The next 30 miles go by in a repetitive, predictable fashion. I make up time on the road sections, and lose time on the descents because I can't see where I'm going, and am (justifiably?) worried about crashing after hitting mud. After the second aid station, where I get my glasses cleaned, I catch Rob Campbell, which comes as a complete surprise.<br />
<br />
Just before the always surreal power plant, I roll up a group of six, and then three more. I'm excited--making up positions after my disastrous start. But I've apparently gone too deep, and on the next gravel up hill, I get popped off again.<br />
<br />
Only one section of unpaved road remains, but it's Smokey Drain Rd. I'm reduced to pushing because the mud is so deep and the gradient is so steep. I start to come completely unglued, and then it gets worse. I slip off the lip of a mud bog and plunge into 2 feet of muddy, smelly water. The right shifter is completely gunked with mud and barely works. I pick off a few more shattered guys on the paved section, and enter Mylan Park. One short section of grass and I'm in the chute for the finish. The crew at the line are screaming "Field Sprint'" I look behind and see a guy closing fast, but I manage to hold him off.<br />
<br />
I'm not as shattered as I was in 2014. Maybe I should have gone harder...<br />
<h2>
Video Summary </h2>
Only the first hour of racing: <a href="https://youtu.be/_79DtwXHdLo" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/_79DtwXHdLo</a><br />
<br />
<h2>
Results</h2>
<table border="2" bordercolor="#0033FF" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" style="background-color: #d0a020; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"><tbody>
<tr><th>Year</th><th>Field</th><th>Time</th><th>Place</th><th>Overall</th><th>Winning Time</th><th>Notes</th></tr>
<tr><td>2015</td><td>50+</td><td>4:46:03</td><td>6</td><td>34th</td><td>3:57:16</td><td>More epic rain. Course shortened</td></tr>
<tr><td>2014</td><td>50+</td><td>5:00:15</td><td>2</td><td>37th</td><td>4:19:35</td><td>Epic rain</td></tr>
<tr><td>2013</td><td>40+</td><td>DNF</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Two flats, sheared rear derailleur off</td></tr>
<tr><td>2012</td><td>40+</td><td>5:01:21</td><td>8</td><td>30th</td><td>4:18:48</td><td></td></tr>
<tr><td>2011</td><td>40+</td><td>5:17:29</td><td>13</td><td>~32nd</td><td>4:19:25</td><td>Two front flats, one crash</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Interestingly, I can't seem to get better than 35th overall!<br />
<br />
<div>
Full results: <a href="http://www.iplayoutside.com/donparks/2015/06/hbr.html" target="_blank">http://www.iplayoutside.com/donparks/2015/06/hbr.html</a><br />
<h2>
Strava Map</h2>
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/335104912/embed/0e9996a5a59f79313d46263879bb55e5b12c30b9" width="590"></iframe>
<br />
<h2>
Gear Summary</h2>
<div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>Crux with hydraulic disk brakes. </li>
<li>50x34 and 11-28 (?) rear</li>
<li><a href="http://www.challengetech.it/products/gravel/gravel-grinder-053/en" target="_blank">Challenge Gravel Grinder </a>file-tread 38mm tires. I don't know if I would have been faster with regular cyclocross tires. One latex tube, one butyl tube. No sealant in the tubes.</li>
</ul>
I think that the heavy rain narrowed the difference between riding a mountain bike and riding a cross bike. The road sections on a mountain bike would have been equally slow wet or dry, but the downhills would have been much faster on a mountain bike. I still think that HBR is a road race rather than a mountain bike race. </div>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-16748420804542789282015-04-08T23:30:00.000-04:002015-04-09T21:20:29.843-04:00Jefferson Cup 2015 ReportI have a love-hate relationship with Jefferson Cup--the oldest continuous race in the Mid-Atlantic. It always seems like the race is the "indoor trainer world championships," since it's so early in the season. I estimate that I've ridden close to 1000 miles on the course over the past 25 years. The weather varies between beautiful and horrific. My fitness can be either tremendous or woeful. In 2012 I rode the 50+ race and spent nearly 1/2 the race in the breakaway, but my results don't reflect that. In 2011 I rode the 35+ race and got mercilessly shelled on the beginning of the second lap when I rode the whole finishing straight at 185bpm. I never know which race I will be in or which me will pull up in the parking lot that day<br />
<br />
It was the 2011 version that I remembered most vividly this year and was most on my mind. I admit that I came into the race very intimidated.<br />
<br />
The race got off with a bang with a crash in the first mile. The field rode through that horrible stinking cloud of melted brake pad. The pace felt fast, but I was never in any real difficulty. I looked up the road and saw groups of five making no headway, and thought, "What can I possibly accomplish if these guys can't get away?"<br />
<br />
After the fast descent of Blenheim with 1.5 laps to go, I was pissed at myself for being so useless and fearful. I rolled up toward the front just as two 35+ guys rolled away. They went through a group that was dangling 50 m in front of the field and so did I. I made contact with them after the turn onto Secretarys Rd, but I was right at the limit. I took my pulls, and figured that I had enough gas to hang on on the uphill sections, but they popped me on (I think--I get pretty hazy when my HR gets up over 180bpm) on the second to last uphill section before the turn on the finishing straightaway on Carters Mountain Rd. It wasn't like they attacked me--they just throttled it when I was already at the limit.<br />
<br />
At that point I was hoping that the field would sweep me up and end the agony, but the moto ref came up and told me that I had 45s on the field, so I put my head down and kept going. There was no way I was going to catch them, but I was all in--no going back.<br />
<br />
Near the finish, a group of four with Mike Kingery, the DC velo guy and two 35+ guys caught me. I was really worried that I wouldn't be able to hang on, but I skipped a pull and recovered. I still died a thousand deaths on that stretch though. The DC Velo guy probed us several times, before the turn onto Blenheim, but it came back together each time. (Note--the photographic record disagrees with this recollection, but I distinctly remember the DC Velo in the group.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPCijGu8sEw/VSXqD39l0NI/AAAAAAAAGgc/XnmgGxOu7GY/s1600/IMG_7917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPCijGu8sEw/VSXqD39l0NI/AAAAAAAAGgc/XnmgGxOu7GY/s1600/IMG_7917.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dying a thousand deaths in the 2nd group. Photo credit to<a href="http://velogirl22.smugmug.com/" target="_blank"> velogirl22 </a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Another group latched on on the climb over Blenheim. I thought it had mostly 35+ guys. I tried to explain to one of them (Dave Fuentes, I think) that their race was still up the road--figuring that they would give the 45+ guys a free ride to the finish. I think I was too incoherent, though. I was coherent enough, though, to count the 45+ guys in the group and think, "there goes my podium."<br />
<br />
Over the top I refocused on a single thought: "Your job here is to not get dropped from this breakaway." I sat on the back for a while after the descent. At that point one of the 35+ guys decided to see where the field was, looked over his shoulder, rode right into the guy in front of him, and crashed hard. We gave it no further thought and left him for dead.<br />
<br />
For the rest of the time on Secretarys Rd I kept thinking, "You have to be willing to lose in order to win," and I just sat at the back. If the field caught us, so be it. I was not going to be the deciding factor in keeping the group away, and if I contributed too much I would just get dropped.<br />
<br />
On the final uphill stretch, yet another group caught us, but I was completely at the limit, and I went out the back door. I had been into the red zone for about 25 minutes at that point. Fortunately, the group contained a teammate, Brook Edinger. Unfortunately, it also contained several more 45+ guys. My overall placing was going to drop several more levels. Before the turn onto the finishing straight, the group started watching each other and I caught back on . After that it was just 100% damage control to get to the finish. I sat up when the sprint started.<br />
<br />
For me, the moral of the story is something I learned 25 years ago, but struggle every race to put into practice. You have to take risks to do well. It doesn't matter how you motivate yourself to take that risk, but you have to do it. I still have no idea how it was that our little group was the decisive move. It seemed no different from the dozen others during the race.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://www.usacycling.org/results/?permit=2015-722" target="_blank">Results</a></li>
<li><a href="http://velogirl22.smugmug.com/Sports/2015-Cycling/2015-Jefferson-Cup-RR/i-Dpxh9Qf" target="_blank">Pictures</a></li>
</ul>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-17895901783441131652015-03-14T11:43:00.001-04:002015-03-14T11:43:15.324-04:00Monster Cross 2015 Report<h4>
Summary</h4>
What can you really say about a 3.5 hour race? We started. I immediately tangled with my passenger and eventual Women's Cross division winner Clio Dinan who got pushed into me in the first turn. I was more worried about her going down than me. After the pseudo-neutral start, I dialed the heart rate up to 11 and kept it there for the next 3:28. By the end of the first lap I was mostly riding alone, though I did catch the 6th place 50+ guy with about 15km to go. My efforts were good enough for 5th place (of 38) in the 50+ (58th/250+ overall) and a box of Skratch cookie mix.<br />
<br />
Unlike 2013, I stayed at the same heartrate for nearly the entire race (175bpm), instead of fading on the second lap.<br />
<h4>
Conditions</h4>
<div>
60F by the finish. Muddier than past years. The fire roads, which had been dusty-dry in previous years had long stretches of watt-sapping mud about 1 inch deep. </div>
<h4>
Rig</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Specialized Crux</li>
<li>Stans No-Tubes alpha 340 with Challenge "Gravel Grinder 38s @ 60psi</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pV-3cTZKyt4/VQRULbIYeaI/AAAAAAAAGQc/RMLbhEUbAeg/s1600/IMG_20150308_144532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pV-3cTZKyt4/VQRULbIYeaI/AAAAAAAAGQc/RMLbhEUbAeg/s1600/IMG_20150308_144532.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The state of the bike at the end</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e6geQaxt79Q/VQRSS5bxP4I/AAAAAAAAGP8/VDu1eNjinlw/s1600/IMG_20150314_110038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e6geQaxt79Q/VQRSS5bxP4I/AAAAAAAAGP8/VDu1eNjinlw/s1600/IMG_20150314_110038.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Challenge Gravel Grinder 38mm with latex inner tubes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h4>
Observations</h4>
The pros are clearly doing something that I am not, since they are not affected by the conditions like I am. Consider the winner's finishing time from previous years. I speculate that his better momentum management means that he's accelerating many fewer times.<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; position: relative;">
2015 2:42:48 Jeremiah Bishop Me: 3:28:47 delta = 44:59</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; position: relative;">
2014 2:39:31 Jeremiah Bishop DNF (was on about a 3:05 pace)</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; position: relative;">
2013 2:33:13 Jeremiah Bishop 3:05:23 delta = 32:10</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; position: relative;">
Bishop was only 3 minutes slower, where I was more like 25 minutes slower. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h4 style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; position: relative;">
Results </h4>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2015: 3:28:47 58/252 overall and 5/38 in the 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2014: DNF--two flats before the 1/2-way point</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013: 3:05:23 71/382 overall and 9/46 in 50+</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012: 3:17:33 58/336 overall and 12/50 in 40-49</li>
</ul>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;"></ul>
<h4 style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
Links to results</h4>
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page37" target="_blank">2015</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.runriderace.com/page24" target="_blank">2014</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2013 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-50-division-resu/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">By Division</a></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">2012 <a href="http://runriderace.com/monster-cross-2012/" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">By Division</a> (broken link)</li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Droid Serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Droid Serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/265711259/embed/c9406da4ac92fa552c3eea04e30fcd1163de3043" width="590"></iframe>bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-57994407516269884242015-02-17T12:32:00.002-05:002015-02-17T12:44:37.214-05:00Washington DC Bicycle Racing in the 1960sThis post looks back at the state of bicycle racing in the Washington, DC metro area fifty years ago. It was a very different era. In a recent interview, Gray James told me "If you were riding and saw a rider on a racing bike, you turned around immediately to find out who he was." Now we just acknowledge them with a head flick or by raising a hand without even taking it off the bars.<br />
<br />
<h3>
The Races</h3>
<div>
Although epic road races and stage races existed in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the bulk of the racing traced its origin to the New York/New Jersey six-day racing tradition. Flat criteriums, and track-style races run on the road were the order of the day. Until 1965, the national championship was run as an omnium of track events, instead of as a road race. Beginning in 1966 the ABLA forbade mixing of fixed-gear and derailleur bicycles in racing. The 1964 National Capital Open presaged this change, when the winner, Paul Zink riding a derailleur bike, outsprinted local racer Gerry Pease riding a fixed gear. By the end of the decade everyone was on a european derailleur bike. <br />
<br />
The state of racing in the 1960s was one big race, the National Capital Open, and a host of smaller races that were, by today's standards, closer to organized group rides than to our local weekend events.</div>
<h4>
The National Capital Open</h4>
<div>
The National Capital Open was the central point of the DC Metro cycling in the 1960s, and drew entries from the entire east coast. In an era when the DC metro area had only about 100 licensed racers, the Senior field often had more than 100 entries.<br />
<br />
There had been racing on the Ellipse at the White House in the 1930s, and again for several years in the 1950s, when former Virginia District Rep Gerald Teeuwen was one of the organizers. In 1963, the Federation of Washington Area Cycle Clubs, collaborating with the French Embassy and Gitane importer Mel Pinto restarted the race, which then ran annually until 1988. In the 1970s and 1980s, when NCVC promoted it first under promoter Peter Stevens, the NCO grew into a major stop on the East Coast pro tour. In the 1960s, racers from from New York and New Jersey dominated the event, taking most of the top places every year.<br />
<br />
The continuous turn on the course made the race became infamous for its crashes, including one that produced a fatality in 1973.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrm90FU52BaCaM5OHLoyVL4yEBaJkdaUKrrEHDNDvHmHUJD3uEcXD4FpKfDh_-BJPBcvP7DoG5DHlZGuuvjGX2pE1EnLOhWnLeGp3MJ4Mq3uHg5BwzAHGpCQPDaAMkWZPpVcvTNVJEx1-/s1600/ellipse-NCO.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrm90FU52BaCaM5OHLoyVL4yEBaJkdaUKrrEHDNDvHmHUJD3uEcXD4FpKfDh_-BJPBcvP7DoG5DHlZGuuvjGX2pE1EnLOhWnLeGp3MJ4Mq3uHg5BwzAHGpCQPDaAMkWZPpVcvTNVJEx1-/s1600/ellipse-NCO.png" height="231" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Present-day map of the Ellipse--the site of the NCO</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCip5hoXZzM/TewxEjhBruI/AAAAAAAAASI/LmgdZuJyZqE/s1600/MP1964NCO-8-finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCip5hoXZzM/TewxEjhBruI/AAAAAAAAASI/LmgdZuJyZqE/s1600/MP1964NCO-8-finish.jpg" height="318" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Zinc outsprinting Gerry Pease to win the 1964 National Capital Open.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>The NCVC history site has a complete history and extensive resources on the National Capital Open: <a href="http://members.ncvc.net/members/history/Wiki%20Pages/National%20Capital%20Open.aspx" target="_blank">here</a> including lists of winners.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h4>
West Potomac Park</h4>
<div>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The local racing venue in the early 1960s was the a loop at the polo fields at West Potomac Park. In the early 1960s, the track style races on the road were still the norm. The races at the "Polo Grounds" were only informal, unsanctioned events, announced in "The Spokesman," the local racing newsletter. The actual course is gone; the back stretch now runs through the Roosevelt Memorial.</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I have not found any evidence of racing at Haines Point in the 1960s. </span></h4>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-oqMKTuJqJvgb3Kq43_8vnOnZaSFu4buXFJEioVRo3wbyn4qnjGn0yCjyiuGoG8Kcc3I_uEsrhVx3fXJ4l6Yi386bLn6OugKdmN9JxafhN4A3dd_AG149TtH8QoxKVd-iHmWLIv2mgXyz/s1600/polo-fields-course-1960s.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-oqMKTuJqJvgb3Kq43_8vnOnZaSFu4buXFJEioVRo3wbyn4qnjGn0yCjyiuGoG8Kcc3I_uEsrhVx3fXJ4l6Yi386bLn6OugKdmN9JxafhN4A3dd_AG149TtH8QoxKVd-iHmWLIv2mgXyz/s1600/polo-fields-course-1960s.png" height="400" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Location of the polo-fields course in West Potomac Park. The finish line was at the present-day Roosevelt Memorial<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5pKsoCViqOk/Tf4ErSltzsI/AAAAAAAAB98/VzZYMdCbdP8/s1600/MP1960s-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5pKsoCViqOk/Tf4ErSltzsI/AAAAAAAAB98/VzZYMdCbdP8/s1600/MP1960s-16.jpg" height="245" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racing in West Potomac Park in the 1960s. Charlie Towers and some of the Matthews brothers. From the collection of Mel Pinto in the NCVC archives.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h4>
<br />Beltsville Speedway</h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The '65 and '67 track championships were held at the Beltsville Speedway, now closed, in Beltsville, Md, which opened in 1965.</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-weight: normal;">More Information: history of Beltsville speedway on </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beltsville_Speedway" style="font-weight: normal;" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a></li>
</ul>
</h4>
<h4>
The Seneca Road Course</h4>
<div>
Several issues of "The Spokesman" from 1965-1967 mention local racing on the so-called "Seneca Road Course." Interviews with racers from that era confirmed that the course, shown below, is the same as that is used in recent editions of the All American Road Race. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixkHiPVLfQbAEu9amnJ8tKSZMUbXTbT0xGWa-SVEU07rZdWkyh1Eyt7kSLqmlg62ANgo_wnAFv8EegGh-Szsg0v9iL-oRhyphenhyphenEAFxVlEXNB66yk3UjH-2j9TRiRalLrhwm3eNAYrcJF9Oze/s1600/SenecaHillCourse-annotated.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixkHiPVLfQbAEu9amnJ8tKSZMUbXTbT0xGWa-SVEU07rZdWkyh1Eyt7kSLqmlg62ANgo_wnAFv8EegGh-Szsg0v9iL-oRhyphenhyphenEAFxVlEXNB66yk3UjH-2j9TRiRalLrhwm3eNAYrcJF9Oze/s1600/SenecaHillCourse-annotated.png" height="200" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Route of the "Seneca Road Course" from the 1960s, drawn on a contemporaneous USGS map</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<ul>
<li>More Information: the Seneca Road Course in 1965-1967 issues of the <a href="http://members.ncvc.net/members/history/Wiki%20Pages/The%20Spokesman.aspx" target="_blank">Spokesman</a></li>
</ul>
</div>
<h4>
<br />Westgate</h4>
<div>
Anecdotal evidence exists that there was racing on the Westgate course that was the mainstay of mid-week racing in the 1980s and 1990s. The race course is on the site of the current Capital One headquarters in Tysons Corner--the course is completely obliterated by new construction.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>(GPS coordinates: 38.925073, -77.211333) </li>
</ul>
</div>
<h4>
Other Events</h4>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Championship events, for the track-style races, were also held at the Dorsey Speedway in Elkridge, and the Dominion Speedway in Manassas. </li>
<li>Road events took place in the Beltsville Ag Center, near the NSA, and at other locations. <a href="http://members.ncvc.net/members/history/Wiki%20Pages/The%20Spokesman.aspx" target="_blank">The Spokesman</a> is maddeningly vague about the exact courses, distances, and times. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
The Racers</h3>
<div>
If today cycling is a fringe sport, in the 1960s, it was completely underground. In 2014, USACycling had nearly 50000 licensed racers, and 2000 of them live in the DC Metro area. In 1967, the USAC's predecessor the Amateur Bicycle League of America (ABLA) had 1970 members, and only 72 of them lived in the DC-metro area. Even so, the area produced several racers in the 1960s who who went on to national prominence in the 1970s and 80s.</div>
<h4>
Mike Hiltner</h4>
<div>
1954-2013</div>
<div>
Interestingly, Rockville Cycle Club's Mike Hiltner was the second Mike Hiltner to be named to a 1960s Olympic cycling team. The first Mike Hiltner, from California, won the inaugural National Championship Road Race (1967) and competed in the 1960 and 1964 Olympics. DC's Mike Hiltner was named to the 1968 Olympic team, but did not compete.<br />
<br />
Fun fact: the older Mike Hiltner changed his name to <a href="http://vva-2020.com/home/" target="_blank">Victor Vicente of America</a></div>
<h4>
Chris Meerman</h4>
<div>
1951-1985<br />
Chris Meerman may have been the singularly most dominant racer in the DC metro area in the 1960s. As a Junior in the mid 1960s, he was the 1967 National Best All-around racer champion and won the junior race at the 1968 National Capital Open. Meerman died of a heart attack in 1985 while warming up for a street-sprint event in Allentown, Pa.</div>
<h4>
Carl Leusenkamp</h4>
<div>
1947-1990<br />
Leusenkamp started out his career racing for the Rockville Cycle Club. As a senior in the 1970s, he was primarily a track sprinter, and was three times on the podium of the National Championships in the sprint and twice at the Pan American games. He spent most of his cycling career in Portland, Oregon racing at the velodrome there. Interestingly, he was Mike Hiltner's brother-in-law. Leuesenkamp died (of cancer?) in 1990, in his early 40s.</div>
<h4>
Bobby "the Baltimore Bullet" Phillips</h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">If Leusenkamp and Hiltner flowered into regional racers the late 1960s, Bobby Phillips was already a national figure by the mid 1960s. He was the 1963 Junior Best All-rounder, and 1965 Senior Best All-rounder. He went on to win the 1970 and 1972 ten-mile championships and the 1985 Veteran Criterium Championship. During the 1970s he rode for the dominant New York City CRCA team. </span></h4>
<h4>
Ray "Jug" Matthews</h4>
<div>
"Jug" Matthews was the son of Ray Matthews, Jr, who was the driving force behind the creation of the Federation of Washington Area Cycle Clubs, and the resurrection of the National Capital Open after a six-year interruption. Matthews placed second at the 1960 Junior National Championships, competed as an amateur in Europe, and was the 1962, 1966, and 1966 Virginia State Senior Champion. </div>
<h3>
The Clubs</h3>
<div>
Clubs in the 1960s were small, very local affairs, and drew their membership from a single town or small area. </div>
<h4>
The Federation of Washington Area Cycle Clubs</h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The FWACC was a "club of clubs" created by Ray Matthews, Jr. It functioned as the promoter of the National Capital Open, and published "The Spokesman," the local racing newsletter. It seems to have functioned much like a local racing association. </span></h4>
<h4>
Rockville Cycle Club</h4>
<div>
Members of the Rockville Cycle Club included Mike Hiltner and Carl Leusenkamp who went on to national prominence in the late 1960s and 70s.</div>
<h4>
McLean Cycle Club</h4>
<div>
The McLean cycle club, was run by Simon Meerman, who owned a McLean lawnmower and bicycle shop. His son, Chris Meerman, was one of the national-caliber racers who came out of DC in the 1960s. </div>
<h3>
The Bikes</h3>
<div>
At the start of the decade, single-speed fixed-gear bikes were the order of the day. It wasn't until 1965 that the predecessor to USACycling (the Amateur Bicycle League of America) even allowed derailleur-equipped bikes, and it wasn't until 1967 that it held a national road race championship.<br />
<h3>
More Resources</h3>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Historical photos: <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102762997412174397557/NCVCHistorical?authuser=0&feat=directlink" target="_blank">https://picasaweb.google.com/102762997412174397557/NCVCHistorical?authuser=0&feat=directlink</a></li>
<li>Issues of The Spokesman have photographs and race reports: <a href="http://members.ncvc.net/members/history/Wiki%20Pages/The%20Spokesman.aspx" target="_blank">http://members.ncvc.net/members/history/Wiki%20Pages/The%20Spokesman.aspx</a></li>
</ul>
<h3>
Thanks</h3>
<div>
I thank all the people who have taken the time to talk to me and provide information and resources about the 1960s recently, including Gray James, Mel Pinto, Gerald Teeuwen (now deceased), Jim Hargett, John Cox, and many others. </div>
<ul>
</ul>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-91024326130019824382014-12-21T14:49:00.001-05:002019-10-17T20:17:01.965-04:00The Cooperative Road Thong Network<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Sherlock Holmes had his "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baker_Street_Irregulars" target="_blank">Baker Street Irregulars</a>;" I have the Cooperative Road Thong Network to complement my own <a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2013/03/geotagged-road-thong-sightings.html" target="_blank">investigations</a>.<br />
<br />
The Team:<br />
(out of respect for the participants, no last names without permission)<br />
<ul>
<li>Mark Anderson (x2)</li>
<li>Carolyn Barkley</li>
<li>Bruce B.</li>
<li>Ernie B.</li>
<li>Amanda B.</li>
<li>Cary B.</li>
<li>Cristina B.</li>
<li>Stacy B.</li>
<li>Andy C. (x4)</li>
<li>Shawn D.</li>
<li>Adam E.</li>
<li>Harry Fang (x3)</li>
<li>Sydney F. (x2)</li>
<li>Christine F.</li>
<li>Frank G. </li>
<li>Claudia G-M (x2)</li>
<li>Elizabeth H.</li>
<li>Mark I.</li>
<li>Bill L. (a different one--not me!) </li>
<li>Rob L. (x3)</li>
<li>Peter L.</li>
<li>Jana P (x2)</li>
<li>Jeff T.</li>
<li>John V. (x3)</li>
<li>Katherine L.</li>
<li>Lauren P. (x3) </li>
<li>Molly P.</li>
<li>Teresa R. and Rick M. </li>
<li>Mike S. (x2)</li>
<li>Tom S.</li>
<li>Tsahai T.</li>
<li>Brian Thompson (x2)</li>
</ul>
<h4>
The Collection:</h4>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDwDyhdzBsPg5zHezLmGUuIrpdI97xVqIFGKJEoiIYbvNzaMG6YPGYdpagsagTxCDNRfyWKinaD5dee2gM1YTXOkKGZCybG2-VfxTcO3HFkmKBc9lGvWGtDevntGsRyTbhpPv4ineNxAi/s1600/20191012-laybourn-GlengalenEWHighway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDwDyhdzBsPg5zHezLmGUuIrpdI97xVqIFGKJEoiIYbvNzaMG6YPGYdpagsagTxCDNRfyWKinaD5dee2gM1YTXOkKGZCybG2-VfxTcO3HFkmKBc9lGvWGtDevntGsRyTbhpPv4ineNxAi/s400/20191012-laybourn-GlengalenEWHighway.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2019-10-12 From RL on the 7AM ride on East-west highway.</td></tr>
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1cyYn06d03bng489WQkKTJrZGbzBrKA6T86BAtUKuqgtbQ8etildZSGQ9vPxAzA_Zshql4g3SNNOY_q21mX-ogpVf4G6ugz7QtM9q79hUVJqNVFEjdveV50SuAjPhQoRnQzcxkQXkCQd/s1600/2019-04-13-Laybourn-OccidentalCollege.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1cyYn06d03bng489WQkKTJrZGbzBrKA6T86BAtUKuqgtbQ8etildZSGQ9vPxAzA_Zshql4g3SNNOY_q21mX-ogpVf4G6ugz7QtM9q79hUVJqNVFEjdveV50SuAjPhQoRnQzcxkQXkCQd/s400/2019-04-13-Laybourn-OccidentalCollege.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2019-04-13 From Rob L on the Occidental College Campus (Los Angeles)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtpTL4OitO5DNU9jhHeCZYQbFHEgY9yYoSJk8GQV6BV3-PID0d4oa4BszHUOz5A6Qz7vECi1JELv5z84W8_RLOwBy8TgvZNICi2qzsVaBHBGv4mz9bwInLe8JL_3zyDZoUI3dXiiVEetV/s1600/2019-04-20-Fang-SanDiego.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtpTL4OitO5DNU9jhHeCZYQbFHEgY9yYoSJk8GQV6BV3-PID0d4oa4BszHUOz5A6Qz7vECi1JELv5z84W8_RLOwBy8TgvZNICi2qzsVaBHBGv4mz9bwInLe8JL_3zyDZoUI3dXiiVEetV/s400/2019-04-20-Fang-SanDiego.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Harry F. 2019-04-20 on the esplanade in San Diego</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BKkC4nYThVl4TuRVkXbJYcsaxjee_mWtxd2PCXqCXBaj92e8RegWXG_kHWa8UJzhU2oX7Stg_xk2nvTP2BoL6BXuzLr5wtC5FY8oEHjiQUq3jCfqln1YmKbM8U3uwHdQHkAgDmhP5YrD/s1600/IMG_4974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="1600" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BKkC4nYThVl4TuRVkXbJYcsaxjee_mWtxd2PCXqCXBaj92e8RegWXG_kHWa8UJzhU2oX7Stg_xk2nvTP2BoL6BXuzLr5wtC5FY8oEHjiQUq3jCfqln1YmKbM8U3uwHdQHkAgDmhP5YrD/s400/IMG_4974.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2019-04-02 From Frank G in Milan Italy.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJcWucPGMsgfD-ZdFV2sdWjsS7QeHwADobX5zUyzWe_Z341NZ1_UmwmK8WcZcW55_apNBfd0MApVpAbdo0ruNCJzOkmd-qIu1Z14QO9eM8olL9FUFUxMFPxXCY3CC2nPH2CRJyi2TmAX7/s1600/IMAG0395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJcWucPGMsgfD-ZdFV2sdWjsS7QeHwADobX5zUyzWe_Z341NZ1_UmwmK8WcZcW55_apNBfd0MApVpAbdo0ruNCJzOkmd-qIu1Z14QO9eM8olL9FUFUxMFPxXCY3CC2nPH2CRJyi2TmAX7/s400/IMAG0395.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2019-02-11 Keauu-Pahoa Rd. Hawaii<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Brand: Hanes </span>From Bruce B. </td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"></td><td class="tr-caption"></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DWv9EZUOdBRqHYlxDvabb4csmVo-oWYWGFrHcubRchZJ4yH6_h9DN8ElmVF8O7KycOpiKy2N4MVWmh9J3XLztbLzHXiFKj5z5AIynYsD72fr5Ep2Sp9Jiofcsiz_Gb04oTcP_WIxXjMd/s1600/20181003_121850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DWv9EZUOdBRqHYlxDvabb4csmVo-oWYWGFrHcubRchZJ4yH6_h9DN8ElmVF8O7KycOpiKy2N4MVWmh9J3XLztbLzHXiFKj5z5AIynYsD72fr5Ep2Sp9Jiofcsiz_Gb04oTcP_WIxXjMd/s400/20181003_121850.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2018-10-03 From Bill L. Southgate Rd, Arlington Va: https://maps.google.com/?q=38.868816,-77.070963</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDT52hy4KKzZVygJrAr70YS9i-V91cc5IJbTXIYeIbZaKfoyGqYJrA6OAPuy-ttAX3xAaHkn1YgUiuytxLY5d401wKe3qOvjDpg0UFn0YIi4i0dCgTDTlKyQ-ByCreqmRDMqPvzMrKBUa/s1600/2018-09-XX-cicero-NY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDT52hy4KKzZVygJrAr70YS9i-V91cc5IJbTXIYeIbZaKfoyGqYJrA6OAPuy-ttAX3xAaHkn1YgUiuytxLY5d401wKe3qOvjDpg0UFn0YIi4i0dCgTDTlKyQ-ByCreqmRDMqPvzMrKBUa/s400/2018-09-XX-cicero-NY.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Andy C. Lake Placid NY 2018-09-06</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZdZ5ksrdbC1P-b8zxYDK45482OFtBPk2VakfgPYKaAzQZsG5E4SoADbbpjbdoBImnxKYSeUR3BVfF2SKf1tKeKczxd_G56XaIeWt4kdfUcePcDuKmjxP-_R5UtBsUWCuHlRI3TPUN6zX/s1600/2018-09-02-Cicero-SPortlandMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZdZ5ksrdbC1P-b8zxYDK45482OFtBPk2VakfgPYKaAzQZsG5E4SoADbbpjbdoBImnxKYSeUR3BVfF2SKf1tKeKczxd_G56XaIeWt4kdfUcePcDuKmjxP-_R5UtBsUWCuHlRI3TPUN6zX/s400/2018-09-02-Cicero-SPortlandMe.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2018-09-02 From Andy C. South Portland Me.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpHaPrsNnDDZCUXlymInM-ZELHw5vZUGP3RKZ1rEihaOHDB53CMJkW4eJNKIm1TAz2qrpRrfH2CCEfPlVvRfrWIAvw22D0OxHoszareMkm3dMee5Hc-Nfi5dzPW6UaHNuenApoQZa7ij7/s1600/2018-08-12-LaurenPeterson-SpokesGoldsArlington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpHaPrsNnDDZCUXlymInM-ZELHw5vZUGP3RKZ1rEihaOHDB53CMJkW4eJNKIm1TAz2qrpRrfH2CCEfPlVvRfrWIAvw22D0OxHoszareMkm3dMee5Hc-Nfi5dzPW6UaHNuenApoQZa7ij7/s400/2018-08-12-LaurenPeterson-SpokesGoldsArlington.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2018-08-12 From Lauren P. Gold's gym parking lot, Arlington.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPhWvnf9wMpmz6LRSUK6jkzKpp3YEUjwx1ZJc8WhE3wa6TfGX0aU2j_Bx7ZUdWxQzNSNZMkzaUb0AxvJvOii_SSInZlc1HiTFVADppamVBCwQOzxhZ4gKiv4W4OStlk2zEYI52mv_nw5E/s1600/2018-07-20-Briseno-GoldenCo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPhWvnf9wMpmz6LRSUK6jkzKpp3YEUjwx1ZJc8WhE3wa6TfGX0aU2j_Bx7ZUdWxQzNSNZMkzaUb0AxvJvOii_SSInZlc1HiTFVADppamVBCwQOzxhZ4gKiv4W4OStlk2zEYI52mv_nw5E/s400/2018-07-20-Briseno-GoldenCo.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2018-07-20 from Christina B. Table Rock Mtn, Golden, Colorado.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-2u6fHXgqokkOJRwna_4-miIwgQ3y4SjMXDJckRxLd9rWG7RwumxeA7fKIh3bv3zfSrnKWowQXsqKmjv90DsMpcHYuB1faxOZT0PkusBRmTSCyxbFVNapBQto7kHIYX6QDhzkQGz35Jz/s1600/2017-12-31-verheul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-2u6fHXgqokkOJRwna_4-miIwgQ3y4SjMXDJckRxLd9rWG7RwumxeA7fKIh3bv3zfSrnKWowQXsqKmjv90DsMpcHYuB1faxOZT0PkusBRmTSCyxbFVNapBQto7kHIYX6QDhzkQGz35Jz/s400/2017-12-31-verheul.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-12-31 from John V. Albuquerque North Diversion Channel path, between Menaul & Candelaria.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbev-pwIYIMlOghcELHTTjBDwwtKaKGYDKW3EX3BxNbqSR0qIqSkzjU8mO2cUu1oyim7_LAuJB1LY_vvE6U9QZfaKj_KxhwbipWO82-qkN5AGjCUVdnKxvasrhyphenhyphen5JlLEMLETpgjpCf8vrW/s1600/2017-11-27-AmandaBeirne-IAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="714" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbev-pwIYIMlOghcELHTTjBDwwtKaKGYDKW3EX3BxNbqSR0qIqSkzjU8mO2cUu1oyim7_LAuJB1LY_vvE6U9QZfaKj_KxhwbipWO82-qkN5AGjCUVdnKxvasrhyphenhyphen5JlLEMLETpgjpCf8vrW/s400/2017-11-27-AmandaBeirne-IAD.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-11-27. From Amanda B. Dulles baggage claim.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNN_5XXsOMUv2NuVxfOOwRRsnVh2TrVsw51kln0ULx904xng-T6yH9WPR_OUdZEcZEF4yjD13rwrWveUYVAVTk90laMrGP4MdcoGFXUfofLkv1yoCT3TVM3lT2qzejjSNwpNXzAq147Dj/s1600/2017-11-25-anderson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1152" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNN_5XXsOMUv2NuVxfOOwRRsnVh2TrVsw51kln0ULx904xng-T6yH9WPR_OUdZEcZEF4yjD13rwrWveUYVAVTk90laMrGP4MdcoGFXUfofLkv1yoCT3TVM3lT2qzejjSNwpNXzAq147Dj/s400/2017-11-25-anderson.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-11-25 from Mark Anderson (#2) Ft Collins, Co, Coordinates: 40.577882, -105.073785</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZS49wB9U22YEcUd1DTYv-ccYhBiC4xADahYeGbmkOOoWWDbqCoLE0hhPCeE0tk5q3fkmX2T6kmpu7k24h-D8PdexA9mlib3E8R3MLKNKz_agawpQH9B4V1kNozZPAAphfbMkFdsfaCBcR/s1600/2017-11-25-Laybourn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZS49wB9U22YEcUd1DTYv-ccYhBiC4xADahYeGbmkOOoWWDbqCoLE0hhPCeE0tk5q3fkmX2T6kmpu7k24h-D8PdexA9mlib3E8R3MLKNKz_agawpQH9B4V1kNozZPAAphfbMkFdsfaCBcR/s640/2017-11-25-Laybourn.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-11-25 From Rob L on Riffleford Rd, near the Baptist church. </td><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">39.145957, -77.289074</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotV9eeqqA9emYfNRYI37Wy6aosNntJLmZzJj1tBfaqNusJQbtQVBzOL0P4iBiEnGcB6eWuRKnwoAd7aQF0wPyznIXdSLIqeISqlU__81cwrKG54E5wbvq3nGdvvVv91Vo4Syu5EkKDUGH/s1600/20171002-Bayles-Flagstaff-Az.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="579" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotV9eeqqA9emYfNRYI37Wy6aosNntJLmZzJj1tBfaqNusJQbtQVBzOL0P4iBiEnGcB6eWuRKnwoAd7aQF0wPyznIXdSLIqeISqlU__81cwrKG54E5wbvq3nGdvvVv91Vo4Syu5EkKDUGH/s640/20171002-Bayles-Flagstaff-Az.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-10-02 from Ernie B. Flagstaff Az during a pee-stop on a mountain bike tour. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHOTYYxpd4s3Ugv6WDiGDwDMqrsriB1lwpPpXgE_v-Jq0B1BCa9Zha8SdxQkxU8Evb5rwhsiYyTO_ny_sLXCUbM3qwTktXbD10OaN2TizeA-F7ABggYVfav40OUJylA720V01AXXFPyAC/s1600/2017-09-11-SydneyFrench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHOTYYxpd4s3Ugv6WDiGDwDMqrsriB1lwpPpXgE_v-Jq0B1BCa9Zha8SdxQkxU8Evb5rwhsiYyTO_ny_sLXCUbM3qwTktXbD10OaN2TizeA-F7ABggYVfav40OUJylA720V01AXXFPyAC/s400/2017-09-11-SydneyFrench.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-09-11 from Sydney F, Bloomsburg, PA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXn8kQhNuxA67aJNOb6EN1PDBxQRCvUxwaundaZ9DtNIXVekfYHIfCeUIMi26mdiSgzbzEsiN8UszwDr06kykStKe1OuOCvXvSBdo6CQrZPSlwopSTd70nceqW3e6nUAlGeraY-WnM7egL/s1600/IMG_20170805_0747504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXn8kQhNuxA67aJNOb6EN1PDBxQRCvUxwaundaZ9DtNIXVekfYHIfCeUIMi26mdiSgzbzEsiN8UszwDr06kykStKe1OuOCvXvSBdo6CQrZPSlwopSTd70nceqW3e6nUAlGeraY-WnM7egL/s400/IMG_20170805_0747504.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-08-05 from Molly P. At Scott's Run Nature Park, Loudoun, VA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqsV1BlBHWHsu2lkjX6I4U32qnG_Dh4XfeC6A1n2fngVmOZVBzI_3rsPgBiSUZEyIvdmyqo1Qkc5BV9yHedxqSNIlRibyYVLz6o0fmgP2fCi1-lc8nNaR88kCBvnh07TX4kkpCwv7KFUJ/s1600/IMG_20170625_112507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqsV1BlBHWHsu2lkjX6I4U32qnG_Dh4XfeC6A1n2fngVmOZVBzI_3rsPgBiSUZEyIvdmyqo1Qkc5BV9yHedxqSNIlRibyYVLz6o0fmgP2fCi1-lc8nNaR88kCBvnh07TX4kkpCwv7KFUJ/s400/IMG_20170625_112507.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-06-25 from Stacy B Target @ Rio, Gaithersburg, MD 39.118, -77.202 (submitted 2017-07-11)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6bSpejzZ2Jbuhjjp2Ya-2M8mSYyT1QxfLw9lWrHzEaLaXW4WtWuTNDE4DCU03OZN_RIN9KGzJXldby0it-Z7E6lEAJ5YzMlnv9Hs9MjCQZZyelEsuj72awiciZ6Pib4AhUyEKwyiNPGA/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6bSpejzZ2Jbuhjjp2Ya-2M8mSYyT1QxfLw9lWrHzEaLaXW4WtWuTNDE4DCU03OZN_RIN9KGzJXldby0it-Z7E6lEAJ5YzMlnv9Hs9MjCQZZyelEsuj72awiciZ6Pib4AhUyEKwyiNPGA/s400/image.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-07-04 From Katherine L. Quebec City, Canada.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-y_kPG_rEc0fO2M4b8hzHnXdLYkW8yb4v0dM33Vt9gAppQETILtpuJ8rrUXZfIErErLW9t_1le8ZAPT-skAEOoyIGD9O3kU6DYn5fHYbFSBabWw35JjUD5AeRPp__7wUjvKa7cN5gkotm/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-y_kPG_rEc0fO2M4b8hzHnXdLYkW8yb4v0dM33Vt9gAppQETILtpuJ8rrUXZfIErErLW9t_1le8ZAPT-skAEOoyIGD9O3kU6DYn5fHYbFSBabWw35JjUD5AeRPp__7wUjvKa7cN5gkotm/s400/image.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-06-01 from Mark I at Fort Washington Park: 38.711054, -77.029593</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YoAebQsbxSF7YcRnaCbLmRroU-1bA1OSDQhar1ub2XPJJr8v78zkYhObz25elwnAv0fkwUzO5X81JeLiNVxeUJgJeSDph9jYMktr5wwWF480x1jnQ4WE74gi-09xCj2JDAclCZkmRRmB/s1600/2017-05-29-Verheul-RoyRd-SAndiaPueblaNM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="526" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YoAebQsbxSF7YcRnaCbLmRroU-1bA1OSDQhar1ub2XPJJr8v78zkYhObz25elwnAv0fkwUzO5X81JeLiNVxeUJgJeSDph9jYMktr5wwWF480x1jnQ4WE74gi-09xCj2JDAclCZkmRRmB/s400/2017-05-29-Verheul-RoyRd-SAndiaPueblaNM.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-05-29 Roy Rd Sandia Puebla NM from John V.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNFTTgB27hI/WKtAbG77OCI/AAAAAAAAMm0/M92SwAUcHDkbxjLvwEHmfWLr6FjiiSaWwCPcB/s1600/20170220-AndyCiceroCharlottesvilleVA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNFTTgB27hI/WKtAbG77OCI/AAAAAAAAMm0/M92SwAUcHDkbxjLvwEHmfWLr6FjiiSaWwCPcB/s640/20170220-AndyCiceroCharlottesvilleVA.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-02-19 From Andy C. Clifton Inn Charlottesville Va</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NIqDZki0kYI/WJvmwCFCzyI/AAAAAAAAMiE/GSKKlsA4uFchkNtOP3AC8sJnIYiJ5oVcACPcB/s1600/2017-02-08-monterosa-rodriguez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NIqDZki0kYI/WJvmwCFCzyI/AAAAAAAAMiE/GSKKlsA4uFchkNtOP3AC8sJnIYiJ5oVcACPcB/s640/2017-02-08-monterosa-rodriguez.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017-02-08 From Teresa R and Rick M. Waikoko Beach, Hawaii</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Sydney F. 2017-02-07 Bloomsburg U Lycoming Hall 3rd Floor.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-09-15. From Mike S.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Eastview building, corner of N Randolph and Fairfax Drive, 8th floor</span>. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-07-12 Thomas S on Riffle Ford Rd, near the sewage treatment plant. SO Brand</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kcoDCpi_msw/V1DwfxiH9GI/AAAAAAAAKgg/LDNiFfll_j4Bu4DU5r4e0M_P5ZdkbXolQCKgB/s1600/20160531_064110-adam-enatsky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kcoDCpi_msw/V1DwfxiH9GI/AAAAAAAAKgg/LDNiFfll_j4Bu4DU5r4e0M_P5ZdkbXolQCKgB/s640/20160531_064110-adam-enatsky.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-06-01 From Adam E on the W&OD bike path near the East Falls Church Metro.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-enh6cdc4SYw/V1Dwf4F8tXI/AAAAAAAAKgg/mRAKdSPWFR8G6hqHy6bwtk5-huVhf08ZACKgB/s1600/20160522-cary-bland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-enh6cdc4SYw/V1Dwf4F8tXI/AAAAAAAAKgg/mRAKdSPWFR8G6hqHy6bwtk5-huVhf08ZACKgB/s640/20160522-cary-bland.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-05-22 from Cary B, Pittsburgh, PA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oBHABcCgs3M/V0ybTKCUAPI/AAAAAAAAKcs/58syBxJY-ogOfEL1yPbzYpMLn32GR4fEgCKgB/s1600/2016-05-27-Claudia-GM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oBHABcCgs3M/V0ybTKCUAPI/AAAAAAAAKcs/58syBxJY-ogOfEL1yPbzYpMLn32GR4fEgCKgB/s400/2016-05-27-Claudia-GM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-05-27 From Claudia G-M. On the trail near the Kennedy Center.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">2016-05-20 </span>From John V 8th and Gold, Albuquerque, NM</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-03-24 from Mike S. On the Mt Vernon trail just south of Crystal City intersection.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LGoOw_F75c/Vvp3jkllcxI/AAAAAAAAJvY/0ipuX9Yg_B4fTgRXxYjRsvseqrs0nNjvQ/s1600/2016-03-22-AndyCicero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LGoOw_F75c/Vvp3jkllcxI/AAAAAAAAJvY/0ipuX9Yg_B4fTgRXxYjRsvseqrs0nNjvQ/s400/2016-03-22-AndyCicero.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2016-03-22 from Andy C. corner of South Wakefield and 28th Rd South in Arlington. Stick came attached. Apparently no poking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">2016-03-08 </span>From Claudia G-M on the Capital Crescent Trail</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bYFBJGWnEgM/Vvp6onUGFUI/AAAAAAAAJv8/1RcKJbG6jPQcim01ZuLTlXL-cZE9e4Hdw/s1600/2016-02-07-fuentes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bYFBJGWnEgM/Vvp6onUGFUI/AAAAAAAAJv8/1RcKJbG6jPQcim01ZuLTlXL-cZE9e4Hdw/s400/2016-02-07-fuentes.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A "meta sighting" from Christine F. On US 211 going west up to Thornton Gap. Thanks for stopping!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WD-o9MkqHTc/Vp2WucGQWmI/AAAAAAAAJA8/RUWRXvdC3wc/s1600/2015-12-26-Fang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WD-o9MkqHTc/Vp2WucGQWmI/AAAAAAAAJA8/RUWRXvdC3wc/s400/2015-12-26-Fang.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-12-26<br />
From Harry Fang (submission #2) on <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/36%C2%B047'46.3%22N+80%C2%B028'37.6%22W/@36.796195,-80.4793107,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0x0" target="_blank">Buffalo Mountain</a>, VA </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nk_wedjCfRY/Vni9LdXKHNI/AAAAAAAAIek/W3pz9ANyljw/s1600/IMG_2190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nk_wedjCfRY/Vni9LdXKHNI/AAAAAAAAIek/W3pz9ANyljw/s400/IMG_2190.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Carolyn Barkley, on Rt 11 between <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/19%C2%B015'27.1%22N+155%C2%B026'24.9%22W/@19.2575381,-155.442455,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0x0" target="_blank">markers 46 and 47</a> in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park near the trailhead for "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawaii_(island)#The_Great_Crack" target="_blank">The Great Crack</a>" 2015-12-21. Joe Boxer brand</td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-11-06 courtesy of Mark Anderson, from his yard in Fort Collins, Co.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ENb6x22TT_g/Vizi8VxXFaI/AAAAAAAAIUY/I8QiV-DyKXo/s1600/IMG_0976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ENb6x22TT_g/Vizi8VxXFaI/AAAAAAAAIUY/I8QiV-DyKXo/s400/IMG_0976.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-10-22 at Upton Hill Regional Park, courtesy of Peter Lindeman.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lSk7DLdJH4g/VfMuuZYdJqI/AAAAAAAAH8k/IQtidIchqig/s1600/2015-08-ShawnDowning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lSk7DLdJH4g/VfMuuZYdJqI/AAAAAAAAH8k/IQtidIchqig/s400/2015-08-ShawnDowning.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-08-27 from Shawn D--the first husband/wife independent submission. Size L7, Herring Run Park, Baltimore, Md.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qXkQFP3baXo/VaxMs_Qr8jI/AAAAAAAAHgg/Jhhcjr2H4uY/s1600/2015-07-18-elizabth-harlow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qXkQFP3baXo/VaxMs_Qr8jI/AAAAAAAAHgg/Jhhcjr2H4uY/s400/2015-07-18-elizabth-harlow.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-07-19 from Elizabeth H on her first ride back after surgery. Ednor Gardens, Baltimore, Md. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a84iysM-ENk/VVjzvgs5fRI/AAAAAAAAG9s/ZBIhLQdcc0w/s1600/20150514-Fang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a84iysM-ENk/VVjzvgs5fRI/AAAAAAAAG9s/ZBIhLQdcc0w/s640/20150514-Fang.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-05-14 from Harry Fang at <span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.0799999237061px; text-align: left;">3302 Jones Bridge Road, Chevy Chase, MD 20815.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzOD0kf3gbY/VTb_bzYhrhI/AAAAAAAAGqI/RyhCNoIeV5g/s1600/%2Fstorage%2Femulated%2F0%2FEditedOnlinePhotos%2FIMG_20150421_215357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kzOD0kf3gbY/VTb_bzYhrhI/AAAAAAAAGqI/RyhCNoIeV5g/s1600/%2Fstorage%2Femulated%2F0%2FEditedOnlinePhotos%2FIMG_20150421_215357.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-April: A dual sighting in early April 2015 from Brian Thompson on Rt 17C 3 miles west of Endicott, NY</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014-04-11 from Lauren P at Virginia Square Metro 7:30AM. Definitely from the "Walk of Shame."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m_czDIL40Js/VSEq-PMTjpI/AAAAAAAAGdU/bwgfh5xf2Iw/s1600/20150404-LaurenPeterson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m_czDIL40Js/VSEq-PMTjpI/AAAAAAAAGdU/bwgfh5xf2Iw/s1600/20150404-LaurenPeterson.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015-04-04 from Lauren P, in Arlington, VA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WF26UQJKDnY/VJchZ9A-znI/AAAAAAAAFmQ/CAOndhNWep4/s1600/2014-09-26-Tsahai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WF26UQJKDnY/VJchZ9A-znI/AAAAAAAAFmQ/CAOndhNWep4/s1600/2014-09-26-Tsahai.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014-09-26 Never used! Kind of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minnie_Pearl" target="_blank">Minnie Pearl</a> version. Seen in Washington DC. Contributed by Tsahai.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsbZ65Q-Lpw/VJchZdHHKuI/AAAAAAAAFmI/R24AxqVDzwg/s1600/2014-08-06-Boston-Taggart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsbZ65Q-Lpw/VJchZdHHKuI/AAAAAAAAFmI/R24AxqVDzwg/s1600/2014-08-06-Boston-Taggart.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014-08-06 From Jeff T. Spotted on the banks of the Charles River, in Boston, Mass.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AJ7pKMzaMaI/VJchZNSjwgI/AAAAAAAAFmA/wpUGFa52sHY/s1600/2014-06-24-BathEngland-Gagner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AJ7pKMzaMaI/VJchZNSjwgI/AAAAAAAAFmA/wpUGFa52sHY/s1600/2014-06-24-BathEngland-Gagner.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014-06-24 from Bath, England. contributed by Jana P</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C7aAebLZoNU/VJchZCwaK1I/AAAAAAAAFmE/eWkrBrkZx0E/s1600/2014-04-20-Gagner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C7aAebLZoNU/VJchZCwaK1I/AAAAAAAAFmE/eWkrBrkZx0E/s1600/2014-04-20-Gagner.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014-04-20. Somewhere in Rockville, Md. Contributed by Jana P</td></tr>
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<br />bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0151 Mamalahoa Hwy, Pāhala, HI 96777, USA19.257473 -155.4401057999999719.22749 -155.48044629999998 19.287456000000002 -155.39976529999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-91847451560586245042014-10-13T17:45:00.002-04:002014-10-13T17:45:22.436-04:00Year-end Analysis of Racing in the MidAtlantic Bicycle Racing Association<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h2>
Preface</h2>
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I have a much nicer PDF of this analysis--ask for it in the comments section. And it has all the notes</div>
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1 Introduction</h2>
This report attempts to summarize the attendance trends over the past nine years of racing in the Mid-Atlantic Bicycle Racing Association–MABRA. I hope it is a useful resource for both racers and promoters. In drawing conclusions from these tables and graphs, you should be aware that the data sets are small, and that hidden variables almost certainly influence the trends. However, I believe that some data is better than<br />
no data at all. I am always looking for ways to improve this document, and I consider all suggestions.<br />
As always, this report is an incremental modification to the report of previous years. To keep the main body of the report to a manageable and readable length, the supporting information appears as a collection of endnotes that follows the last section.( just ask for the PDF version if you want this)<br />
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2 What is MABRA?</h2>
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MABRA, the Mid Atlantic Bicycle Racing Association, is an association of event-promoting clubs, based loosely around the Washington, DC-Baltimore, Md area. The map in Figure 1 shows the traditional geographic outline of MABRA, and the approximate locations of its member clubs in late 2014. The diameter of the circle is proportional to the number of USAC-licensed members in the club. (see note 1) </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2lM_v66Y3Ws/VDw_AANVj-I/AAAAAAAAFB8/IyAtX-oAiZ0/s1600/mabramap-MAPclubs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2lM_v66Y3Ws/VDw_AANVj-I/AAAAAAAAFB8/IyAtX-oAiZ0/s1600/mabramap-MAPclubs.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 1: Map of the traditional geographic boundaries of MABRA. Circle position indicates the location of a member club in 2014. Circle diameter is proportional to the number of members.</td></tr>
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Most clubs have many members who are unlicensed. In addition, most clubs have many members, mostly Category 5, who are listed as “unattached” but who have actually joined the club. Figure 2 shows a zip-code-by-zip-code map of MABRA in which the size and color of the plotted point indicate the number of licenses in that zip code. The ten most populated zip codes in MABRA are all in DC or the counties that border DC. For the US as a whole, 7 of the top 10 zip codes are Boulder or its surrounding towns. </div>
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Figure 2 shows a zip-code-by-zip-code map of MABRA in which the size and</div>
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color of the plotted point indicate the number of licenses in that zip code. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLYfay4dRbc/VDw_AbmBTfI/AAAAAAAAFB0/H1cbEECp7eQ/s1600/mabramap-MAPridersMABRA.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLYfay4dRbc/VDw_AbmBTfI/AAAAAAAAFB0/H1cbEECp7eQ/s1600/mabramap-MAPridersMABRA.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 2: Zip-code map of MABRA racer residences. Color is proportional to the number of licensed racers in the zip code. Size of spot increases with increasing numbers. Zip codes with no licensed racers are show as gray dots.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L5HJDWtpnv8/VDxDUhcLI6I/AAAAAAAAFC8/D3AH0gte3sE/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014byCat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L5HJDWtpnv8/VDxDUhcLI6I/AAAAAAAAFC8/D3AH0gte3sE/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014byCat.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<h2>
3 Demographics</h2>
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Figure 3 plots the demographic data by age broken out by gender and racing category</div>
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for all MABRA riders in 2014. Figure 4 slices puts the data of Figure 3 into separate</div>
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panels by category.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-t3UDZURrI/VDxC6vIgP2I/AAAAAAAAFCs/v5g2YLToyaw/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-t3UDZURrI/VDxC6vIgP2I/AAAAAAAAFCs/v5g2YLToyaw/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 3 Distribution of age of MABRA racers by gender and category.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L5HJDWtpnv8/VDxDUhcLI6I/AAAAAAAAFC8/D3AH0gte3sE/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014byCat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L5HJDWtpnv8/VDxDUhcLI6I/AAAAAAAAFC8/D3AH0gte3sE/s1600/demographics-DEMO2014byCat.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 4 Distribution of age of MABRA races by category and gender.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Figure 5 compares the age distribution of all USCF-licensed riders in 1989, (note 2) and</div>
<div>
2005 to 2014. 3 In the 25 years since 1989, the median rider age has increased 14 years,</div>
<div>
from 27 to 41 (computed for men, though Figure 5 shows both genders). Note also the asymmetry of the 1989 distribution towards a larger fraction of young riders is much larger than the corresponding asymmetry in 2005. Note also that from 2005 to 2014 the distribution broadens both to younger and</div>
<div>
to older ages. In 2014, a significant hump appears for racers less than 20 years old. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2X_FhdEVRtI/VDxEFKtdFUI/AAAAAAAAFDM/uGuANpcTIHU/s1600/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2X_FhdEVRtI/VDxEFKtdFUI/AAAAAAAAFDM/uGuANpcTIHU/s1600/demographics-DEMOallyears.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Historical USACycling membership demographics</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Figure 6 shows that the median age of licensed racers, except for category 5 has steadily increased since 2005. Interestingly, the median Category 5 age is basically constant. MABRA is not adding younger racers. Note also that the median age for women is basically unchanging. </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SD0CuanJj-c/VDw-_2YpdOI/AAAAAAAAFCE/5misUL5N_PA/s1600/demographics-DEMOmedians.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SD0CuanJj-c/VDw-_2YpdOI/AAAAAAAAFCE/5misUL5N_PA/s1600/demographics-DEMOmedians.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 6. Historical median racing age by category and gender. </td></tr>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<h2>
4 Historical USAC and MABRA data</h2>
<div>
Figure 7 plots historical data on USACycling membership through the years, as well as some formative events in American cycling history. (note 4) USCF membership skyrocketed during the 1980s before reaching a plateau in 1990 and then declining. It was not until 2005 that membership exceeded the 1992 peak. What caused the plateau? Why is membership increasing again after 2003? It’s hard not to argue that it’s the “Lance Armstrong effect.” But then, why does the membership continue to grow even after all the doping revelations of the past several years?</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfaQO8nDpX0/VDw_AhclZiI/AAAAAAAAFB4/aMasMap4S4s/s1600/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesHistorical.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfaQO8nDpX0/VDw_AhclZiI/AAAAAAAAFB4/aMasMap4S4s/s1600/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesHistorical.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 7. Historical USACycling membership data. </td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
Figure 8 plots the analogous data for total MABRA memberships. After three years of stagnant growth, membership increased again in 2014.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t8jOz3k10lU/VDw_BM06kJI/AAAAAAAAFCM/vXriQFInipc/s1600/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesMABRAAll.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t8jOz3k10lU/VDw_BM06kJI/AAAAAAAAFCM/vXriQFInipc/s1600/plotHistoricalAttendance-v2-PHAlicensesMABRAAll.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 8 Historical MABRA membership data.</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
<h2>
Race Attendance–Who is actually racing?</h2>
Figure 9 shows the fraction of of the total number of races entered by everyone who competed in a MABRA or Virginia race I was able to locate.5 This data set includes every racer with an address in MABRA, and every racer, regardless of address, who appears in a result from 2013. Note that licensed racers who competed in zero, one, or two races comprise more than half of the total. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dhs3AJ0iVSY/VDw--LIToTI/AAAAAAAAFCY/WZ7D_xsUtKk/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcountAll.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dhs3AJ0iVSY/VDw--LIToTI/AAAAAAAAFCY/WZ7D_xsUtKk/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcountAll.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 9 Histogram of the fraction (as percent) of races in MABRA/VA entered by each licensed racer</td></tr>
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<br />
Figure 10 is a similar histogram but that only considers MABRA racers (i.e. licensed racers whose address is in the geographic boundaries of MABRA). Here, more than one quarter of all racers do not appear in any results. And half of the licenses racers competed in two or fewer events in 2013. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fnpz20sWU0Q/VDw--Dzc2MI/AAAAAAAAFCU/5tlrQEDmhG8/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcountMABRA.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fnpz20sWU0Q/VDw--Dzc2MI/AAAAAAAAFCU/5tlrQEDmhG8/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcountMABRA.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Histogram of the fraction (as percent) of of races in MABRA entered by each licensed <b>MABRA</b> racer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Figure 11 takes that data and plots it as a cumulative distribution beginning with the racer, regardless of address, with the most races in 2013.6 The most interesting conclusion is that 10 % of licensed racers account for 40 % of the attendance. This result confirms the anecdotal evidence that you see the same people at races every week.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VfOBpHeyp1s/VDw--tu9lGI/AAAAAAAAFBU/MsO1GPSc3oY/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcumulative.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VfOBpHeyp1s/VDw--tu9lGI/AAAAAAAAFBU/MsO1GPSc3oY/s1600/assemble-race-data-ARDcumulative.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 11. Cumulative distribution of race attendance. (Results do not reach unity because unknown licenses are not considered.)</td></tr>
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<br />
<h2>
Notes</h2>
forgot it--ask for the PDF version.<br />
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bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-38946823377051229502014-09-15T20:17:00.000-04:002014-09-15T20:17:04.565-04:00New England Museum road trip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S_QOJlIkfZY/VBOs4eJcujI/AAAAAAAAEwU/hu9WynFJECI/s1600/vacation-map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S_QOJlIkfZY/VBOs4eJcujI/AAAAAAAAEwU/hu9WynFJECI/s1600/vacation-map.png" height="320" width="244" /></a></div>
<h2>
</h2>
<h2>
Summary</h2>
<div>
I built this ten-day vacation around a single bicycle race, the Vermont Overland Grand Prix. After that it was driving, museums, and old friends for eight more days. </div>
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<br /></div>
<h2>
Day-by-Day</h2>
<h3>
Saturday: Driving, bridges, Killington</h3>
<div>
I was not excited about the 500 mile mostly I-95 and NYS Throughway drive up to the lodge I had booked at the Killington ski area, and knew that I would need something to break the drive up. The <a href="https://www.walkway.org/" target="_blank">Walkway over the Hudson</a> worked nicely. The foresight of the people who turned an abandoned railway bridge over the Hudson into a pedestrian destination is truly incredible. </div>
<div>
The cantilever bridge, built in 1886 and abandoned after fire in the early 1970s, reopened as a pedestrian walkway in 2009. It's over a mile long and 200 feet above the river. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW-WlA6F2Gi2IWAy85PlxLGhesbJAN1pjoZ1hPl3hOIhboIhp_jRq6pYlVu8T6Ug-oEjiE0p9i7Mcgl20NJYDKhNCge6-qnNvceF1X_JIlMQDLXkHKxLuaytEZIVrv_OASlgD7QcfN5Ix/s1600/IMG_20140823_135742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW-WlA6F2Gi2IWAy85PlxLGhesbJAN1pjoZ1hPl3hOIhboIhp_jRq6pYlVu8T6Ug-oEjiE0p9i7Mcgl20NJYDKhNCge6-qnNvceF1X_JIlMQDLXkHKxLuaytEZIVrv_OASlgD7QcfN5Ix/s1600/IMG_20140823_135742.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra on the Walkway. In the background is the Mid-Hudson Bridge, which I rode across thirty one years earlier on my bike trip from Ithaca to Poughkeepsie.</td></tr>
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<div>
In 1983 I rode from Ithaca to Poughkeepsie to visit my then-girlfriend at her home. The trip was at the peak of my "planning is an admission of failure" style of bicycle touring. I had no idea where I was staying, how I was going to get across the Hudson, and I didn't have a tent. I rode 110 miles the first day, never out of the bailout gear, and camped at deserted campground on the Pepacton Reservoir that was straight out of a post-apocalyptic zombie film. The caretaker was raving babbling drunk, and I was the only guest in a sea of unused pop-up campers and pull-behind trailers. The trip across the Hudson was unnerving. I navigated the pedestrian (!) walkway, which was just expanded metal grid. Terrible vertigo as I stared down at the Hudson 300 feet below my wheels. The Walkway across the Hudson would have been very helpful then... I arrived in Poughkeepsie a day earlier than expected to find her parents still on vacation. After chatting up the neighbors and letting them in on my plan I bedded down on the Laurendeau's deck. Unfortunately, they also arrived home a day early. Maria's mother got the fright of her life when she came up on the deck at 1AM, and woke me up. Luckily for me they were not armed.<br />
Three decades later in the present, after a stroll over the Hudson we were back on the road to Killington. The Snowed Inn was a completely serviceable ski lodge. I swapped tires in the room, and prepared for racing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Hotel: Snowed Inn, Killington Vt</div>
<div>
Food: Neptune Diner, Newburgh, NY, It was a NY Greek diner. They had gyros. <a href="http://littleharrys.com/" target="_blank">Little Harry's</a>, Rutland, Va. A little overpriced but basically OK.</div>
<h3>
Sunday: Racing, Randolph, Montpelier</h3>
Sunday was mostly given over the Vermont Overland Grand Prix, described <a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2014/09/vermont-overland-grand-prix.html" target="_blank">elsewhere</a>. Post-race we drove up to Montpelier through Randolph, where Sandra's grandfather had grown up. We ended up at a B&B in Montpelier, just a few blocks from downtown. Of course, as the smallest state capital in the US, almost everywhere is just a few blocks from downtown.<br />
<br />
<b>Food</b>: <a href="http://www.melazabistro.com/" target="_blank">Melaza Caribbean Bistro</a>, Woodstock, Vt, (pretty good Cubano sandwhich) <a href="http://www.sarduccis.com/" target="_blank">Sarducci's</a> Montpelier, VT (Saute'd Kale salad and garlic bread--good value. Nice open porch overhanging the Winooski River)<br />
<b>Lodging</b>: Betsy's B&B. Pleasant enough, if in need of a little airing out.<br />
<h3>
Monday: Shelburne Museum and Burlington</h3>
<div>
Sandra and I had been to the <a href="http://shelburnemuseum.org/" target="_blank">Shelburne Museum</a> in 2003, when I raced (disastrously) the Green Mountain Stage Race in 2003. The museum is the personal obsession of descendants of a 19th-century robber baron (Vanderbilt) and a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Osborne_Havemeyer" target="_blank">sugar baron</a>, who set out to document New England Americana much in the same way that Henry Mercer built up the the <a href="http://www.mercermuseum.org/about-the-museums/mission-and-history-mercer/" target="_blank">Bucks County Historical Society</a>.</div>
<div>
The centerpiece of the museum, or perhaps its greatest oddity, is the Ticonderoga, the last paddle wheel steamship on Lake Champlain, which is now on blocks 2 miles from the lake. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While we were there, Sandra indulged me with this picture of an authentic Vermont smokehouse. I was obsessed with smokehouses as a child. Quoting from my "Adventure book" from June 28, 1969, when we lived outside DC "We went to Sotterly on a hot day... My favorite thing outside was the smokehouse. I love smokehouses." So here I am pointing at the smokehouse 46 years later. Even though they moved it, the smell remains. mmmmmmmmm<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqLa5_P6e7s/VBOostLpYUI/AAAAAAAAEv8/AZrhZiy1Lgw/s1600/20140825_153429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqLa5_P6e7s/VBOostLpYUI/AAAAAAAAEv8/AZrhZiy1Lgw/s1600/20140825_153429.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indulging my childhood obsession with smokehouses and smoked meats. </td></tr>
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</div>
<div>
Dinner was at Farmhouse Tap and Grill, a combination brewpub and locavore venue in downtown Burlington, recommended by my friend Katherine. Two thumbs up. Made me wish I lived in Burlington. </div>
<div>
After dinner, I left Sandra behind at the B&B and met up with Katherine, who lives basically around the corner, where I got the full story of her fall from my bathroom window while I was in Germany in 1988. It's always great to catch up with old friends. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Food: <a href="http://www.farmhousetg.com/home.html" target="_blank">Farmhouse Tap and Grill</a>, Burlington, VT One too many craft beers, olive plates, bratwursts. Whew...</div>
<div>
Lodging: <a href="http://www.richmondvictorianinn.com/" target="_blank">Richmond Victorian Inn</a>, Richmond Vt; Awesome neighbor cat. </div>
<h3>
Tuesday: More Montpelier</h3>
<div>
In my panic to get all the venues scheduled, I didn't realize that the Vermont Historical Society was actually closed on Monday, so we were back in Montpelier. The historical society is a little glitzy for my tastes--not enough artifacts in glass cases. But its presentation of Vermont history is reasonably balanced. We learned that for all his calls for liberty, Ethan Allen's motives may not have been as pure as portrayed in fourth-grade history. Turns out that he had 200,000 acres of prime Vermont land with a disputed title. It was very much in his interest to have the colonies independent to secure his clear title to that land. Nothing is ever as it was portrayed in grade school.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-evCmBhucPsOwYV_2SpR5yCmvJdDf1c0yiv9bS7NhEGNMtjwW6NIVAGmRrSC4SEbhjlFyEg8rc1c0vq_434c2iRHzwQMQUo4pfxFWKJKNa7UusFY8KJ0yf6LRL3UrB7TYy973VBRLpyzG/s1600/IMG_20140826_121703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-evCmBhucPsOwYV_2SpR5yCmvJdDf1c0yiv9bS7NhEGNMtjwW6NIVAGmRrSC4SEbhjlFyEg8rc1c0vq_434c2iRHzwQMQUo4pfxFWKJKNa7UusFY8KJ0yf6LRL3UrB7TYy973VBRLpyzG/s1600/IMG_20140826_121703.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra points at the last catamount shot in Vermont, in the 1880s..</td></tr>
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We also toured the Vermont state house. Apparently, until the mid 1970s, Vermont had one representative for each town--around 400 of them in a state that only had 400,000 people. Howard Dean has a very casual governor's portrait in his canoe with his flannel shirt and canoe.<br />
After Montpelier we lunched in St. Johnsbury, and then continued on to Concord, Mass. We stayed for two days at Concord's Colonial Inn, in the same room that Queen Noor used. Brush with greatness.<br />
<br />
Food: some forgettable place in St Johnsbury on the railroad Tracks.<br />
Lodging: <a href="http://www.concordscolonialinn.com/" target="_blank">Concord's Colonial Inn</a>, Concord, Ma<br />
<h3>
Wednesday: Concord, 19th century literature, old friends</h3>
The Concord agenda was to do everything that Sandra had missed doing when she worked weekdays in Lexington and that we hadn't done on our "Shot heard round the world" visit a few years ago. That meant we were mostly off technology and on literature.<br />
<div>
Stop 1 was the <a href="http://www.concordmuseum.org/" target="_blank">Concord Museum</a>. Very polished, and with the most youthful and attractive docents I've ever encountered.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfJAxZB_s2Zd85vmZ9zqkhzrSs0c_rc5hw79cn7K1XgFyOXkbq28n6X1HcF90yAJiKNWPQYo84aVcvJ1z2hrEjIoVLPOYRGIVXm26kC5qkoTBIFZOOGljxFLBtsSwI42BE6ta-PQsqjsc/s1600/IMG_20140827_103816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfJAxZB_s2Zd85vmZ9zqkhzrSs0c_rc5hw79cn7K1XgFyOXkbq28n6X1HcF90yAJiKNWPQYo84aVcvJ1z2hrEjIoVLPOYRGIVXm26kC5qkoTBIFZOOGljxFLBtsSwI42BE6ta-PQsqjsc/s1600/IMG_20140827_103816.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra points at a shoe at the Concord Museum</td></tr>
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From there, we were off to lunch with one of Sandra's former co-workers, and then to the Louisa May Alcott house. I've never read Little Women, but I remember the names of the books from endless card games of "Authors" as a kid. The other people on the tour were so excited about it. One women kept texting her daughter.</div>
<div>
After Louisa May Alcott we hit <a href="http://www.thetrustees.org/places-to-visit/greater-boston/old-manse.html" target="_blank">The Old Manse</a>, which overlooks the bridge from "The shot heard round the world" Ralph Waldo Emerson lived there while writing "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nature_(essay)" target="_blank">Nature</a>" and then rented the house to Nathaniel Hawthorne (also in "Authors, the card game") and his wife. They were later evicted for not paying the rent. And, wonderful tenants that they were, the commemorated their anniversary (?) by scratching a poem into the window glass with a diamond ring. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lodging: Concord's Colonial Inn</div>
<div>
Food: Concord's Colonial Inn bacon-wrapped figs and cheese, Calimari<br />
<h3>
Thursday: Lowell, Industrialism and textiles</h3>
<div>
We went off the schedule for a day, and on a whim went to the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/lowe/index.htm" target="_blank">Lowell National Historical Park</a>. Initially, I thought it would be something to do for the morning, before heading down to New Bedford, but we spent the whole day.<br />
Lowell was apotheosis of the early American industrial revolution. Industrialists dammed the Merrimack River for the water power to run weaving mills and built canals around the falls. The technology high point for me was the Boott Mills museum, which has an operating weaving mill room, using early 20th century looms. Even though only 10 of the 100+ looms were weaving, the noise was still astounding. I can't imagine being a 12 year tending for or five loops 12 hours a day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pyfK_ixuYH9ATLyPXE5j6n5hkJeWjwAN3EH8dWX2gRp8cINLR4uI3vI7VxcWyKK9cGxHjGCy_jT9xADlchBit2kdRuIFs0jtHJj_sJTD7_ln12jNldY0hMVNFmtOJwNxATwX3ae3XS-7/s1600/IMG_20140828_123544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pyfK_ixuYH9ATLyPXE5j6n5hkJeWjwAN3EH8dWX2gRp8cINLR4uI3vI7VxcWyKK9cGxHjGCy_jT9xADlchBit2kdRuIFs0jtHJj_sJTD7_ln12jNldY0hMVNFmtOJwNxATwX3ae3XS-7/s1600/IMG_20140828_123544.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra points at a balance at the Boott Mills Museum.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvY-PIG_TEa7hKfaNSQ8Q9Itz7Jv8KiO-tEZH78p2eDVl0knWQNgQ1aP3yH1-xLtPvSO73k_8rRxCd8cSM4uSI5ekA3O18NjTg95JRGqMdUn-32rA5hf7VLNRaE-X7XWB1EKdwB_PGN1u/s1600/IMG_20140828_112408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvY-PIG_TEa7hKfaNSQ8Q9Itz7Jv8KiO-tEZH78p2eDVl0knWQNgQ1aP3yH1-xLtPvSO73k_8rRxCd8cSM4uSI5ekA3O18NjTg95JRGqMdUn-32rA5hf7VLNRaE-X7XWB1EKdwB_PGN1u/s1600/IMG_20140828_112408.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weaving mills in operation at the Boott Mill. Only 10 of the 110 mills were running, and the noise was still deafening.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As usual, the park rangers were super-engaged and interesting. We rounded out the trip with a short ride on a trolley car, and then a trip through the locks to the Merrimack.<br />
Lodging in New Bedford was at the <a href="http://www.the-orchard-street-manor.com/content.htm" target="_blank">Orchard Street Manor</a>, a bed and breakfast run by a guy who had been adviser to the Moroccan finance minister. The house was built by a whaling captain, and the current owner has assembled a big collection of memorabilia of him, family, and his ship.<br />
<br />
Food: some kind of "Mufungo" at a Puerto Rican restaurant, then seafood casserole at <a href="http://www.freestonescitygrill.com/" target="_blank">Freestone's City Grill</a> in New Bedford Delicious.<br />
Lodging: <a href="http://www.the-orchard-street-manor.com/content.htm" target="_blank">Orchard Street Manor</a>, New Bedford, Ma</div>
<h3>
Friday: New Bedford, Whaling, On to Cape Cod</h3>
<div>
We really short-changed the <a href="http://www.whalingmuseum.org/" target="_blank">New Bedford Whaling Museum</a>, since we only had a little more than half a day. My feelings about visiting were a little mixed. The history of whaling is abhorrent, but I love everything about Moby-Dick. Plus we visited the <a href="http://www.drakewell.org/" target="_blank">Drake Well</a> last year on our <a href="http://billluecke.blogspot.com/2013/09/19th-century-technology-road-trip.html" target="_blank">19th Century Technology Road Trip</a>. Oil pumped from the ground spelled the beginning of the end of commercial whaling, though not, of course, of the widespread slaughter of whales. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's easy to think about commercial whaling as a 19th century horror, or perhaps even one that ended in the early 20th century. One glass case of artifacts dispelled that notion: cans of gun oil and "Whale Meat in Curry paste."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We rushed the museum a little to fit in a visit to the Seamen's Bethel, which is featured in<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm#link2HCH0007" target="_blank"> Chapters 7 to 9 of Moby-Dick </a> (and both excellent movie versions.) And then it was off to John and Rachelle's house on Cape Cod for the weekend. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFO7DDZX4RaleRYqFJuvU04_lEJ5K8OiyQdiBDg7AXR932B7JPSA8onulCodn1GLYMOTHkNQLuO7Vnia9XJa-RXrQyC55TKOaKyo51IAGTtBbbKKhDXBxkLcSYZYTOkdKgD-L0T35w-7L/s1600/IMG_20140829_103553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFO7DDZX4RaleRYqFJuvU04_lEJ5K8OiyQdiBDg7AXR932B7JPSA8onulCodn1GLYMOTHkNQLuO7Vnia9XJa-RXrQyC55TKOaKyo51IAGTtBbbKKhDXBxkLcSYZYTOkdKgD-L0T35w-7L/s1600/IMG_20140829_103553.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra points at "Old Nemo" a fur seal purchased from PT Barnum. I'm unsure what he's doing in a whaling museum, though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGv6Xu5JZ4Li2ZS9KA5Kk1b16-xk5ra3pZWwQ-QLRaMXwD3MR4AZxWuyuPLxHvs5QK2dDLGL9f_bck1fCIkO3ImKhIhpE11MWH-w-YCl0ICEhQJaI13RH3B5hqPSg9reKyCco3UjqlMnFw/s1600/IMG_20140829_105420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGv6Xu5JZ4Li2ZS9KA5Kk1b16-xk5ra3pZWwQ-QLRaMXwD3MR4AZxWuyuPLxHvs5QK2dDLGL9f_bck1fCIkO3ImKhIhpE11MWH-w-YCl0ICEhQJaI13RH3B5hqPSg9reKyCco3UjqlMnFw/s1600/IMG_20140829_105420.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scrimshaw display. The museum has an entire room of glass cases with stuff carved out of teeth and whalebone. Glass-case overload!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<h3>
Saturday: Cape Cod, Beaches, Stand-up paddleboarding</h3>
<div>
Finally a day without driving. The day was given over to hanging out on the beach with John and Rachelle. While Sandra read her book and napped, I took Rachelle's board and John and I paddled (wind-aided) north on the inlet. I only fell off every time a boat passed. At the tip we paddled past a herd (flock?) of about forty seals. Amazing.</div>
<h3>
Sunday: Cape Cod, Telecommunications museums</h3>
<div>
Rachelle left in the morning for a college-reunion weekend, and we turned back to visiting museum. The history of Cape Cod is more than just whale oil and ocean fishing. It figures significantly in the history of telecommunications as well. </div>
<div>
The first stop was the Chatham Marconi Maritime Center, which was one in a series of transmitting and receiving stations that the Marconi Corporation built on Cape Cod to compete with the trans-Atlantic cables, one of which also came ashore on Cape Cod. After WWI, the station was used for Ship-to-shore communications until the 1990s. </div>
<div>
The docents were a creepily eager--like members some kind of techno-religious cult. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZt5vA2WHoASb-q910zGVbTEj8CJJwYy96MeUEL1_EWFAU9e6t25A0LQuQ3QGkwSFStE52bgLCnOSD_TFA7xaiYN92kUeY2JeULaFycn-SUd5kB_yez4QJ8eDUSL-SQr2b4Q47BpNxbxT/s1600/IMG_20140831_143916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZt5vA2WHoASb-q910zGVbTEj8CJJwYy96MeUEL1_EWFAU9e6t25A0LQuQ3QGkwSFStE52bgLCnOSD_TFA7xaiYN92kUeY2JeULaFycn-SUd5kB_yez4QJ8eDUSL-SQr2b4Q47BpNxbxT/s1600/IMG_20140831_143916.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra pointing at some kind of vacuum tube from at the <a href="http://www.chathammarconi.org/" target="_blank">Chatham Marconi Maritime Center</a>. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Museum #2 was a labor of love to memorialize the French undersea cable first laid in the 1870s, and put through to Orleans in 1891. The <a href="http://www.frenchcablestationmuseum.org/" target="_blank">French Cable Station Museum</a> is a musty collection of artifacts of the trans-atlantic cable technology in dire need of some new labels. Still--lots of period stuff on display. It seems to be run by the descendants of the original station master. The engineers in the group (i.e. us) had a fun discussion on how a wheatstone bridge might be used to detect the location of cable breaks, while the docent/owner declaimed a technologically-not-very-correct explanation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytQItnT0wJUXfTZmrLa-5RaR235KY9tTHg3at2gzwyrDkg5xtteuu4wuVBXq2HHGpiKtfcEGIcGl70nw5hZVhdbOQ0dALcRk59ERg8yCHoG57jMo4bnsPjU_K1x2ThIiSJwB4xZWuSK07/s1600/IMG_20140831_160013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytQItnT0wJUXfTZmrLa-5RaR235KY9tTHg3at2gzwyrDkg5xtteuu4wuVBXq2HHGpiKtfcEGIcGl70nw5hZVhdbOQ0dALcRk59ERg8yCHoG57jMo4bnsPjU_K1x2ThIiSJwB4xZWuSK07/s1600/IMG_20140831_160013.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra pointing at the only glass case we could find in the <a href="http://www.frenchcablestationmuseum.org/" target="_blank">Orleans French Cable Station Museum</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then it was back to John's for dinner.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWo8vEC_MqqVQaocDB69ELs_uObsm0_R0ozk48qY3p-NHwtm3PAPR_7IBlDSSsrUZmV-qLsMF_4I3ATf2D0ceJ2BKalPGC8913VVGOogWfSn8VK1xbMebqs3eXowR3SRY01QmOz96L69QC/s1600/IMG_20140831_095619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWo8vEC_MqqVQaocDB69ELs_uObsm0_R0ozk48qY3p-NHwtm3PAPR_7IBlDSSsrUZmV-qLsMF_4I3ATf2D0ceJ2BKalPGC8913VVGOogWfSn8VK1xbMebqs3eXowR3SRY01QmOz96L69QC/s1600/IMG_20140831_095619.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, Rachelle, and Sandra on the deck.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
<br />Monday: Mystic</h3>
<div>
We cleared out of Cape Cod around lunchtime on Monday, to try to avoid the inevitable backup, and stayed at our friends Betsy and Dan's vacation house in Mystic Connecticut. We arrived too late in the day to take in the Mystic seaport museum/compound, but we did have a nice walk through downtown Mystic on a lovely summer evening. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7dWERXpSRJkxi8o2gW7IEng-G-8j5jyep9JRPIloew-6ZSPKM-P9YlI5Dea4uxsm9afPEoB0Zy29hcrQ2TeCZUBiz5Q-KjN21S44ja_rsdGW-QfJx2GdkReO5MZf0Ji62h_vbnJ1R6o8/s1600/IMG_20140901_184207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7dWERXpSRJkxi8o2gW7IEng-G-8j5jyep9JRPIloew-6ZSPKM-P9YlI5Dea4uxsm9afPEoB0Zy29hcrQ2TeCZUBiz5Q-KjN21S44ja_rsdGW-QfJx2GdkReO5MZf0Ji62h_vbnJ1R6o8/s1600/IMG_20140901_184207.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra watching the Mystic drawbridge rising.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
<br />Tuesday: Home!</h3>
<div>
One last stop on the drive home at my college friend Maria's house for lunch. She had spotted my post about the Walkway over the Hudson the week before. We had a quick lunch, played with her adorable Australian cattle dog puppies, and then hit the road again for home. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOM1b_KbD65yBGt6pkE5YxDUHHSRNHSq2E5pB0LaBBm1Z_Huy5HRrA4GFc8-rYOChIaAtd8T_pO_G5dDyXPsegzrliI4bfOJj5tmq-3X74nSIXzBfNh9zJISjngI-HVk-LodptW7tjiFmm/s1600/IMG_20140902_134916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOM1b_KbD65yBGt6pkE5YxDUHHSRNHSq2E5pB0LaBBm1Z_Huy5HRrA4GFc8-rYOChIaAtd8T_pO_G5dDyXPsegzrliI4bfOJj5tmq-3X74nSIXzBfNh9zJISjngI-HVk-LodptW7tjiFmm/s1600/IMG_20140902_134916.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maria Laurendeau and me at her house in Campbell Hall, NY</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h2>
Links</h2>
<h3>
Museum and Venue Links</h3>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://www.walkway.org/" target="_blank">Walkway over the Hudson</a>, Highland, NY</li>
<li><a href="http://shelburnemuseum.org/" target="_blank">Shelburne Museum</a>, Shelburne, Vt</li>
<li><a href="http://vermonthistory.org/" target="_blank">Vermont Historical Society</a>, Montpelier, Vt</li>
<li><a href="http://www.concordmuseum.org/" target="_blank">Concord Museum</a>, Concord, Mass.</li>
<li><a href="http://www.louisamayalcott.org/" target="_blank">Louisa May Alcott House</a> , Concord, Mass.</li>
<li><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Old_Manse" target="_blank">The Old Manse</a> , Concord, Mass.</li>
<li><a href="http://www.nps.gov/lowe/index.htm" target="_blank">Lowell National Historical Park</a>, Lowell, Mass</li>
<li><a href="http://www.whalingmuseum.org/" target="_blank">New Bedford Whaling Museum</a>, New Bedford, Mass</li>
<li><a href="http://www.chathammarconi.org/" target="_blank">Chatham Marconi Maritine Center</a>, Chatham, Mass</li>
<li><a href="http://www.frenchcablestationmuseum.org/" target="_blank">Orleans French Cable Station Museum</a>, Orleans, Mass</li>
</ul>
<br />
<h3>
Hotels</h3>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.snowedinn.com/" target="_blank">Snowed Inn</a>, Killington, Vt</li>
<li>Betsy's B&B Montpelier, Vt</li>
<li><a href="http://www.richmondvictorianinn.com/index.htm" target="_blank">Richmond's Victorian Inn</a>, Richmond, Vt</li>
<li><a href="http://www.concordscolonialinn.com/" target="_blank">Concord's Colonial Inn</a>, Concord, Ma</li>
<li><a href="http://www.the-orchard-street-manor.com/" target="_blank">Orchard Street Manor</a>, New Bedford, Ma</li>
<li>John and Rachelle's, Orleans, Ma</li>
<li>Betsy and Dan's, Mystic, Ct</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-89289110088160930792014-09-07T08:27:00.000-04:002014-09-07T08:32:17.450-04:00Vermont Overland Grand Prix<h2>
Executive Summary</h2>
<div>
A 51-mile gravel road race that uses five sections of Vermont's "Ancient Roads." Based on my drive before and after, I'm sure it was achingly scenic, but I only looked at the road ahead of me. Flatted near the finish and lost 35 places, to finish 101st in 3:39:59. The winner took only 2:42:47. </div>
<h2>
The Race</h2>
<div>
Maybe I'm getting blase about these gravel-road races. </div>
<div>
The Vermont Overland Grand Prix was epic. The roads, ancient, hard-packed dirt, or modern paved, were all just tremendous. The event vibe was the best of any race I've been to in years. But no one thing stands out as being mind-searingly memorable. Maybe that's good--no near-death experiences, no blinding rainstorms, no black depression of wanting to drop out and ride back to the car. Yeah, I'll go with that!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, the first edition of the Vermont Overland Grand Prix ran over a 51-mile single loop, with five (?) sections of Vermont's "Ancient Roads." Through a quirk in Vermont law, any public right-of-way that ever existed remains in the public until the town formally turns it back to property owners. Some of these roads, known only to the locals, date back to the 18th century. And they are not roads that you're taking your Subaru Forester down, by any stretch of the imagination. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Amusingly, it turned out I knew the promoter, Peter Vollers, from my Cornell Cycling team days, twenty five years ago. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sandra and I drove up from Falls Church the day before, and stayed at a lodge in Killington, about 35 minutes from the start. She indulged my pre-race parking/navigating paranoia, and we pulled into the race parking lot more than two hours before the 9 AM start. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For a first year event, the more than 300+ entries made for an impressive start line. Unlike Hilly Billy Roubaix and Iron Cross, almost no one was on a mountain bike. The race shut down the main street of <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Woodstock,+VT/@43.6247144,-72.5232871,15z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x89e1d71659f33f81:0x43d2d7256dade364" target="_blank">Woodstock Vt</a>. for the entire day. After the national anthem we rolled out, and a mile later we left the pavement behind on a wide, hard-packed dirt road littered with wheel-eating potholes. I watched several guys endo into the ditch almost immediately. Ouch. As soon as the gradient turned up I found myself drifting backwards out of the front group. I may have made a mistake in not going harder early, but it wasn't like others were impeding my progress, either. Five miles into the race we hit the first ancient road, and I was off the bike pushing. I was overgeared (34x28), and the recent rain made the rocks pretty slick. On the descent, despite the warning signs, a guy a mountain bike nearly creamed me, as I was held up briefly by even slower guys ahead of me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next 40 miles were a blur--pass guys on the road downhills, and then lose ground on the ancient roads. As usual, my back got progressively worse. In the last hour I found my rhythm, and actually started to pass riders until I flatted in a stream crossing with about six miles left. The entire bike was coated with black smelly grit-encrusted mud, and I sprayed down the tire with Gu from my waterbottle to try to clean it. What a mess. I was running latex tubes with Stans, left over from Hilly Billy Roubaix, but obviously I didn't have enough Stans, since the leak didn't seal. After the repair I was completely paranoid about flatting again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Minutes later we descended through a hay field, onto the pavement, crossed a covered bridge, and then minutes later i was sprinting though downtown Woodstock. One last steep uphill and I was across the line. My flat cost me 12 minutes and forty places, only good enough for 101st place. I've flatted way too many times in these races recently.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.rwdunn.com/photos/i-dZKgMBL/5/X2/i-dZKgMBL-X2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.rwdunn.com/photos/i-dZKgMBL/5/X2/i-dZKgMBL-X2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pissed off just after repairing the flat. The photo shows a rather tame section of an ancient road. Photo credit Ryan Dunn: <a href="http://www.rwdunn.com/" target="_blank">http://www.rwdunn.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CaJt1tku9HU/VAt4PLwLL2I/AAAAAAAAErI/jQ9Qo0tvVOs/s1600/2014-08-24-VOGP-garmin-trace.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CaJt1tku9HU/VAt4PLwLL2I/AAAAAAAAErI/jQ9Qo0tvVOs/s1600/2014-08-24-VOGP-garmin-trace.png" height="218" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heart rate and speed. The big notch at 190 minutes is the flat tire change. Averaged about 165bpm </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLD45XKFNty17BpvCVSXuN07k5EPUpRKUdnNcPaUO1ATH43YLd3jwEmZt1-d0E1ZhPKHrNQsMQRizx2NTNOqwbuJUApJVePxl5JLJt11IRPHke6sK_B2Y165xPs1aDDq6wrQAIWTt3CWzx/s1600/IMG_20140824_135534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLD45XKFNty17BpvCVSXuN07k5EPUpRKUdnNcPaUO1ATH43YLd3jwEmZt1-d0E1ZhPKHrNQsMQRizx2NTNOqwbuJUApJVePxl5JLJt11IRPHke6sK_B2Y165xPs1aDDq6wrQAIWTt3CWzx/s1600/IMG_20140824_135534.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a recovery beverage brewed by the race sponsor at a restaurant on the finishing straightaway.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
Equipment</h3>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Continental cyclocross speed tires @ 65psi with Vittoria latex tubes and 1/2 a bottle of 2-month-old Stans. Less than ten miles of the course was paved, and even on the smooth hardpacked roads, the tires were not a liability. </li>
<li>34x28 was not low enough. Some of the "ancient roads" would have been ridable with lower gearing.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h2>
Links</h2>
<ul>
<li>The <a href="http://www.vermontoverland.com/vogp/" target="_blank">event page</a></li>
<li>2014 <a href="http://www.road-results.com/race/4948" target="_blank">Results</a></li>
<li>My performance on<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/190604792" target="_blank"> Strava </a> </li>
<li><iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="http://www.strava.com/activities/190604792/embed/35f892f10bc42a34ab55bff89d8e7c00384a6941" width="590"></iframe>
</li>
<li>More <a href="http://www.rwdunn.com/Adventure/VTOverlandGrandPrix2014/n-R2V4c/" target="_blank">photographs</a> from Ryan Dunn, one of the moto escorts</li>
<li>Information on Vermont's "Ancient Roads:" <a href="http://www.vtroads.com/index.htm" target="_blank">http://www.vtroads.com/index.htm</a> and an <a href="http://www.yankeemagazine.com/article/travel/sleeping-roads-vermont" target="_blank">article</a> in Yankee magazine that explains some of the interesting legal issues about them</li>
</ul>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-57608830176424290712014-06-22T22:23:00.001-04:002014-08-05T22:16:01.018-04:00Hilly Billy Roubaix<h2>
2014 Summary</h2>
<h3>
Executive Summary</h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rain. And searing back pain</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">We kept hoping that the forecasted rain would hold off. Indeed, it seemed as if it might, but a half hour before the start we retreated to the Rob Campbell's van as the rain poured down. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2462-rZ-jVE/U6eVtlfaMjI/AAAAAAAAD9Y/0sypjc87BDw/s1600/IMG_20140621_090603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2462-rZ-jVE/U6eVtlfaMjI/AAAAAAAAD9Y/0sypjc87BDw/s1600/IMG_20140621_090603.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">But the rain stopped in time to assemble for the rider meeting and rollout to the actual start line. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Instead of a whistle or a cap-gun shot, the promoter signaled the race start with the squeal of an actual live pig. After a "controlled" rollout to the the highway, where I was nearly crashed out for the second time in a week, we started with a mile-long steep road descent before hitting the first sector of single-lane gravel about 2 miles into the race. Interestingly I saw two chains unfurled in the first three miles. What is it with these single speed guys?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"> In 2012 and 2013 I went too deep on the chaotic first gravel section, trying to stay in the front group, and paid for it at the end of the race. This year I kept my heart rate in the 160s even though it seemed like way too many people were passing me. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">I went into the second sector of dirt, the infamous mud bog sector on Little Indian Creek Rd, with all but one of the contenders in the women's race, including one who made a disturbing continuous symphony of grunts and bellows. Monica Seles seems demure in comparison. After that sector I was basically alone for the next 60 miles, rolling up single-speeders on the pavement sections.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Miles 20 to 40 flew by as I picked off more riders. Although I have raced the course before, I was still astounded at how much I remembered. I would be descending some single-lane gravel road and remember, "ooh, back off, this is the decreasing radius turn coming up." In general, I rode much more conservatively than usual on the downhills. Perhaps I was afraid of flatting, or perhaps I was thinking too much about crashing out of Hagerstown last week.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I spent the minimal amount of time at the aid stations. Just enough to refill my bottles. OK, maybe I spent 20 seconds too long at the second aid station while the woman in with the multi-colored mohawk, tattoos, and bikini top helped me out, but dammit---she didn't have any chain lube, which is what I really needed! Note to self: spare gloves are much less important than extra chain lube in this event.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After aid station two, rain came back with a fury. I wear glasses with prescription inserts, and even with antifog, they are useless in heavy rain. A hard choice faced me: 20:20 vision obscured 80%, or 20:100 vision at 100% clarity. I shoved my glasses into my jersey and rode the brakes hard on the downhills. A couple more sectors of gravel flew by, and then I was at the most surreal sector. After a long road section the course turns off onto the entrance into a combination strip mine and power plant. In the middle of nowhere is a giant steam-belching fog-shrouded industrial facility. At the turnoff into the gravel section where I crashed in 2011, I stopped for a pee, and a kindly spectator ( where did he come from!?!?) cleaned my glasses on his shirt. This act of kindness was easily worth five minutes to me. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Garmin showed that I only had 12 miles left, but that distance included a mudbog-filled sector on Smokey Drain Rd, an impossibly steep road climb, and finally the grim climb back to the finish. By this point my lower back was on fire. My friend Glenn refers to this situation as "the full set of steak knives in the back," and I felt like I might have a set from one of the other competitors as well. When I made the turn into Mylan Park, a quick look over my shoulder showed that I had 20 seconds to the next group behind me. Apparently the had donated their steak knife collection to me, because the first one passed me on the grassy cyclocross section two minutes later. And then another, and then two more. I waved several more through on the downhill, since my back was so locked up that I could barely steer. Unfortunately, I waved through another 50+ guy. No matter. I could not have gone any harder.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I ground up to the finish, passed under the finish arch, collected my mug, and rolled over to Rob Campbell's van, where I <span style="font-family: inherit;">collapsed into a rain water - filled puddle for the next 10 minute</span>s. I ended up second, 25 seconds behind the winner. First time I've been on the podium in eight years. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fxC_-cSzvOM/U6eVst40-PI/AAAAAAAAD9Q/Hoh4b2yXs80/s1600/IMG_20140621_171040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fxC_-cSzvOM/U6eVst40-PI/AAAAAAAAD9Q/Hoh4b2yXs80/s1600/IMG_20140621_171040.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Droid Serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Droid Serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
Race notes</h3>
<div>
<ul style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<li>Bring chain lube with you. </li>
<li>The top three 50+ guys all finished within a minute after 5 hours.</li>
<li>Setup: Carbon Crux with mechanical disk brakes, Conti Cyclocross speed tires. Even with mechanical disk brakes, the Crux was much better than the Fuji with cantilever brakes. I will never go back. The front end started to beat me up toward the end, though. Possibly some more aggressive tires would have been an advantage in the muddy sections. </li>
<li>Drove up with Rob Campbell and Tom Snyder</li>
<li>Link to <a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/156740017/embed/600c52420e09b73a2fc84f53e16fb0ab5e522a76" target="_blank">GPS Trace (strava)</a></li>
</ul>
<h2>
Results</h2>
</div>
<div>
<table border="2" bordercolor="#0033FF" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" style="background-color: #d0a020; width: 100%px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th>Year</th>
<th>Field</th>
<th>Time</th>
<th>Place</th>
<th>Overall</th>
<th>Winning Time</th>
<th>Notes</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>2014</td>
<td>50+</td>
<td>5:00:15</td>
<td>2</td>
<td>37th</td>
<td>4:19:35</td>
<td>Epic rain</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>2013</td>
<td>40+</td>
<td>DNF</td>
<td></td>
<td></td>
<td></td>
<td>Two flats, sheared rear derailleur off</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>2012</td>
<td>40+</td>
<td>5:01:21</td>
<td>8</td>
<td>30th</td>
<td>4:18:48</td>
<td></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>2011</td>
<td>40+</td>
<td>5:17:29</td>
<td>13</td>
<td>~32nd</td>
<td>4:19:25</td>
<td>Two front flats, one crash</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h3>
Links</h3>
<h4>
Results</h4>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.iplayoutside.com/donparks/2014/06/hillybilly.html" target="_blank">2014</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.iplayoutside.com/donparks/2013/06/22o.html" target="_blank">2013</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.abraracing.com/Results/2012HBRresults.pdf" target="_blank">2012</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.abraracing.com/Results/2011HBR.html" target="_blank">2011</a></li>
</ul>
<h4>
Video </h4>
<br />
<ul>
<li></li>
<li>2014: <a href="http://vimeo.com/102581785" target="_blank">Hilly Billy Roubaix</a> from In The Crosshairs--a short documentary about the event</li>
<li>2013: <a href="http://youtu.be/wvzGBxFAIqA" target="_blank">on board video</a>, where my ass is featured early on</li>
</ul>
<br />
<h2>
Year-by-year highlights</h2>
<h3 style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
2011</h3>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What even prompted us to do this race? I can't remember.We drove up with a full crew, including Rob Campbell, Pete Lindeman, and Chris Clarke. What I do remember is that I rode all out, with disastrous results. I flatted after the descent after the "Secret Aid Station," where Peter caught me. Then just after the power plant, while descending recklessly, hit a brick-sized rock, explosively decompressed the front wheel, and launched over the bars. I was really fortunate to not have broken anything.</span></div>
<h3 style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
2012</h3>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Drove up alone. Missed out on a podium finish after dawdling at the final aid station, but that cold towel was awesome</span><span style="font-family: 'Droid Serif';">.</span></div>
<h3 style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
2013</h3>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Disaster year. After missing the podium in 2012 by only a few minutes, I vowed to let it rip in 2013. My aggressive descending produced a flat before mile 20. I thought I had just pinch flatted, so I just stuck a new tube in. But I had cut the sidewall, and so I flatted again on the next gravel section. This time I changed the tube, stood up too quickly and had a complete whiteout. I staggered back and stepped on the rear derailleur. Five miles later I shifted into the big cog in the back near the secret aid station and ripped the dérailleur completely off. I had failed to replace it after damaging it on my spring gravel road tour.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Droid Serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Droid Serif'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-33195435359820024582014-05-18T19:18:00.001-04:002014-05-18T19:20:39.209-04:002010 C&O towpath/GAP trail tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-top: 0.17in; page-break-after: avoid;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAQbMN8Ybck/U3k_Do7sztI/AAAAAAAACSQ/q9CP-li1oM4/s1600/00063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAQbMN8Ybck/U3k_Do7sztI/AAAAAAAACSQ/q9CP-li1oM4/s1600/00063.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Nimbus Sans L, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Nimbus Sans L, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>2010
Pittsburgh Bike Trip</b></span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-top: 0.17in; page-break-after: avoid;">
“<span style="font-family: Nimbus Sans L, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Tour
of the endless driveway”</i></span></span></div>
<h2>
Background</h2>
Tom Snyder and I had planned to do this trip since just after our
2009 C&O Towpath tour. We had worked out a plan to drive a rental
car to the Allegheny Airport and ride back over three and half days.
As the date came closer, work commitments erased his ability to go.
Simultaneously, my uncle David announced that the Fall Luecke family
reunion would take place in Pittsburgh. I hatched a plan to ride
there.
<br />
<h2 class="western">
Mental Preparations</h2>
It had been twenty four years since I toured solo and twenty two
years since I had used my one person tent.
<br />
In the days that lead up to departure, I obsessed more and more
about whether I could really stand being alone with myself for three
and a half days. My mind tends to race when I am alone, and that time
can be a painful rehash of everything that I've done wrong. My
solution on my ninety minute commute is to go harder and harder until
I can't think straight. That's clearly an untenable solution for a
trip that includes riding eight hours a day.<br />
<br />
A week before, I started to worry about the distance as well: 300+
miles on a dirt road. My back had really been bothering me, and I
began to worry that my body might give out before my mind did.
<br />
<h2 class="western">
The Bike</h2>
Last year I rode my titanium Litespeed cyclocross bike, but it was
unavailable this year. I had lent it to a teammate, Monika Sattler,
to use. Although I could have retrieved it, I felt like I should use
a “real” touring bike, which meant using the Zeus, Reynolds 531
frame I bought from Andy Jordan in 1988. The bike is a true
Frankenstein's monster, assembled from the remains of half a dozen
bikes over the past twenty years. The parts ran all the way from the
original Sugino Mighty bottom bracket that came with the bike to a
new Deore rear derailleur that I bought two weeks before the trip. At
the last minute, I had to swap out the headset for the Dura Ace
sealed-bearing version I stole from the original Litespeed. I also
opted for Speedplay pedals and my old Sidi shoes.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jh6R4Nw_kT4/U3k73EIMITI/AAAAAAAACQU/2myqhgozCdc/s1600/annotated-touring-bike.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jh6R4Nw_kT4/U3k73EIMITI/AAAAAAAACQU/2myqhgozCdc/s1600/annotated-touring-bike.png" height="206" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2 class="western">
The Gear</h2>
I pared the gear down to the absolute minimum I thought I would
need for the trip. I didn't even take a spare shirt. I did, however,
take nearly 5 lbs of Clif Bars. I would be gassy, but I wouldn't
starve.
<br />
<h2>
Day 1 Tuesday October 5</h2>
I had arranged to leave my car at Tom's house, to avoid having the
NIST SWAT team blow it up or impound it for illegal parking. I pulled
up a few minutes late. Tom was already sitting in his driveway,
dressed and ready to go in his mismatched Spokes jersey and blue
shorts. “I wish I were going with you.” “I wish you were going
too.” We didn't have the military precision departure we enjoyed in
2009. But we were still underway at 1:12—only 12 minutes behind
schedule.
<br />
<br />
Twenty four years ago to the day I was already on day four of my
eleven-day solo trip in Germany, riding into Frankfurt to visit Jon
Brockopp. From the synopsis of my diary for that trip: “I think I
was worried about the enormity of the whole ride, doing it solo in
the possibly bad weather in a country where I only spoke half the
language.” Not much has changed in a quarter century, but at least
I speak the language in Western Maryland.
<br />
<br />
The first hour and a half of day on were on the roads to the
Monacacy aqueduct, where I planned to join the C&O towpath. Tom
accompanied me until the towpath itself, and then turned back. As he
rode back across the aqueduct, I sadly wondered, “What have I
gotten myself in to?” Just like last year, the towpath to
Brunswick, Md was very muddy. Several times I had to stop and clear
the mud out of the fenders with a stick. Progress seemed slower than
I remember from our 2009 team time trial to the Huckleberry campsite
outside of Harpers Ferry. As planned, I detoured into Shepherdstown
to look for food. Back and forth, up and down through Shepherdstown I
went until I found the FoodLion. Dinner would be several pre-made
subs, and some cookies. I had the presence of mind to grab some
flammable AutoTrader newspapers to use for kindling later. Once back
on the towpath, I began to really kill it for fear of arriving at the
campsite after dark. I planned to camp at Killian's Cave, but it was
already occupied, and I thought it prudent to get as far as possible.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l-7-wNx1FFc/U3k-umAXWuI/AAAAAAAACRw/CmcRTcCs838/s1600/00005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l-7-wNx1FFc/U3k-umAXWuI/AAAAAAAACRw/CmcRTcCs838/s1600/00005.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom turns back. I'm on my own now. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
After arriving at Horseshoe Bend I had just enough time to put up
the tent, and blunder through the woods gathering downed limbs before
it got dark. I even had time to call Sandra and let her know I had
made it. The night was restless, with a cacophony of insect noise,
some owls, and a brief spot of rain. But I had exceeded my goal for
the day, and drifted off thinking that I would really be able to
finish the trip.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ghw15oqwT0U/U3k8LPGFsxI/AAAAAAAACQk/X-CXuopHTMk/s1600/00009-relevel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ghw15oqwT0U/U3k8LPGFsxI/AAAAAAAACQk/X-CXuopHTMk/s1600/00009-relevel.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2>
Day 2 October 6, 2010</h2>
Goal one for day two was to get to the Desert Rose Cafe in
Williamsport Md, where I knew I could get a coffee and something to
eat. The cafe, and its vivacious owner, is the highpoint of
Williamsport, a town whose better days are long ago. After properly
caffeinating myself , I began seriously considering riding all the
way to Cumberland. To make that goal more achievable, I avoided the
mud and skipped the C&O west of Williamsport by taking Md 68 and
MD 56 to the eastern end of the Western Maryland rail trail.
That excellent detour decision turned forty miles of dirt into forty
miles of pavement.
<br />
<br />
Anyone who has ridden with me for any time knows that I cannot
resist the lure of found objects on the road. Over the years I have
found several wallets, a phone, about fifty bungy cords, and and what
amounts to nearly an entire toolbox worth of tools. In my quest to
pare every surplus gram from the touring rig, I had left home with
only two tools: a Crank Bros multitool and a 10 mm open-end
wrench that I thought I might need to adjust the cantilever brakes.
The multitool has a 10-mm wrench on it, but it seemed difficult to
use. Imagine my surprise, on Md 68, on a little rise west of
Williamsport,when I found another 10 mm open-end wrench on the
shoulder of the road. Why did I bring the original one?
<br />
<br />
The Western Maryland Rail Trail, which begins east of Hancock, is
twenty five miles of smooth-as-glass paved trail. Weirdly, for nearly
its entire length, you can see the C&O towpath about 100 feet
away. Is this really the best use of funds for rail-to-trail
conversions? The view is nicer, though. I made great time on the rail
trail, but when I dropped back on to the towpath about ten miles from
the Paw Paw tunnel, I realized that I still had 50 miles to go.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q_ckvruJGN4/U3k-sLT5NRI/AAAAAAAACRo/2JCanuzDFQI/s1600/00016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q_ckvruJGN4/U3k-sLT5NRI/AAAAAAAACRo/2JCanuzDFQI/s1600/00016.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Western Maryland Rail Trail. That's the C&O towpath just past the trees.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The Paw Paw tunnel was as I remembered it from last year: an
awesomely cool engineering feature from 160 years ago. And just like
last year, I got to go through it totally alone. I stopped for lunch
at the western portal to eat the last of the FoodLion subs from the
day before. It began to rain. My goal was still Cumberland, but first
I needed to refuel. The convenience store in Paw Paw had been a
disappointment on last year's trip. If anything, it eclipsed itself
in 2010. The only Gatorade as the low-calorie version. I settled for
a coke, and a slim jim. If I didn't make it to Cumberland, dinner
would be Clif Bars. The woman behind the counter was surly, and the
stench from the deep fryer was overpowering. Outside the rain picked
up, and then abated. I suited up in all my foul weather gear and
headed back to the towpath.
<br />
<br />
West of Paw Paw the towpath was thick with bike tourists. Sadly,
if the subset I saw represents the cycle-touring population, bicycle
touring will soon be extinct. Except for one four-member family
group, everyone I met was over 60. Then again, I'm nearly 50. One
group in particular stood out. Their leader was wearing reflective
yellow from head to toe, and called out a warning that I was ahead.
Each member down the line repeated it at full volume, though they
could not have been going more than 6 mph and were no more than
a bike-length apart each.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FPkbLPUYpU/U3k8Rlylb6I/AAAAAAAACQs/xHLZ5GLf__M/s1600/00026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FPkbLPUYpU/U3k8Rlylb6I/AAAAAAAACQs/xHLZ5GLf__M/s1600/00026.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eastern portal to the Paw Paw Tunnel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The closer I got to Cumberland the more my back hurt. Even if I
had wanted to camp, a spooky homeless guy had already staked out the
last campsite on the towpath. The sun even came out as I rolled into
Cumberland. I was so excited that I overshot the end of the towpath
and started riding on the railroad tracks. Clearly you're supposed to
start in Cumberland and not end there.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p60a9RDk8yo/U3k8u6esfGI/AAAAAAAACRU/tdrPswcdzcM/s1600/00029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p60a9RDk8yo/U3k8u6esfGI/AAAAAAAACRU/tdrPswcdzcM/s1600/00029.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the end of the towpath in Cumberland, Md.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
But I still needed a place to stay. At the entrance to the towpath
I met a father-son combo who had been riding from Washington since
Sunday. The son was on the phone to someone in Delaware trying to
find a hotel cheaper than the Holiday Inn. While we were discussing
bike touring, a woman I had passed on the towpath walked up and told
us that the Fairfield Inn offered a good rate. I made my decision
immediately and booked a room. I chatted up the father-son duo some
more in the portico. They had an almost unbelievable amount of gear
(65 lbs for the son), and the father had his saddle tipped down
at a 20 degree angle. They typified the people I saw on the trail. By
and large they seemed to be people who were making the trip not
because they enjoyed bicycle touring, but rather because the
Towpath/GAP trail offered some sort of epic adventure.
<br />
<br />
I got cleaned up, headed out for dinner, called my dad to wish him
Happy Birthday. The pedestrian mall in Cumberland looked very well
maintained, but hardly anything was open. Dinner was an overcooked
chicken breast and wild rice at City Lights. The owner and I chatted
about Cumberland, its past and future. As I got up to leave, I
noticed that the woman from the towpath was sitting behind me. I
introduced myself to Helen and ended up chatting with her for an hour
about middle school principals and the future of the Yellow Pages,
for whom she sold advertising in Cumberland. The long-term prospects
for the Yellow Pages don't look good.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMeoFRuYJ5Y/U3k88ZhEixI/AAAAAAAACRc/DcyXMkB9qQ4/s1600/00030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMeoFRuYJ5Y/U3k88ZhEixI/AAAAAAAACRc/DcyXMkB9qQ4/s1600/00030.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roughing it at the Fairfield Inn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h2>
Day 3 October 7, 2010</h2>
Finally, a sunny day. Leaving Cumberland, I could smell coal
smoke. My dinner companion Helen says it's from people who still burn
coal for heat. The Great Allegheny Passage trail is awesome. The
surface is finely crushed stone. You could ride it with a racing bike
on 23s. The first twenty five miles from Cumberland are all uphill.
At the built-up turn at La Vale, about eight miles into the
ride, I stopped for the first of many seat post interventions. This
one was to lower the post. After this one, it started slipping
constantly.
<br />
<br />
I made the right decision in Frostburg, where I left the trail and
rode up into town for coffee and muffin at the Mountain City
Creamery. The girl behind the counter was also surly, but the coffee
was good. The complete lack of brakes on the on the Zeus made the
descent back to the path a bit unnerving.
<br />
The views as I left Cumberland were spectacular, but the tunnels
were not as exciting as I hoped they would be. After the Paw Paw
Tunnel this year, and the Pennsylvania turnpike tunnels a few years
ago, a 100 m tunnel just really isn't that thrilling.<br />
<br />
As I rolled up the trail enjoying the solitude, I noticed a guy
sitting off to the side. I asked if he had everything he needed, and
to my dismay, he jumped up and invited himself to ride along with me.
I tried to amp up the pace to see if I could just drop him, but did
not succeed. Larry the former Cumberland Scrap dealer turned out to
be fairly interesting, and we rapidly reached the Eastern Continental
Divide and the Big Savage Tunnel. From the overlook, you could see
all the way back to the Narrows outside of Cumberland. We took turns
photographing each other, and then Larry the scrap dealer turned to
conducting business on the phone, and I rolled on through the Big
Savage tunnel.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OudFqC7rAVA/U3k8DnLh_OI/AAAAAAAACQc/TfLYhpBvYc0/s1600/00041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OudFqC7rAVA/U3k8DnLh_OI/AAAAAAAACQc/TfLYhpBvYc0/s1600/00041.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eastern portal to the Big Savage Tunnel. Highest point on the ride.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
As soon as I came through the tunnel, which is the longest, but is
also lit, the sun disappeared and the wind hit me in the face. I see
why the ridge is lined with power-generating turbines. I stopped
again for another seat post intervention and pleasant chat in
Meyersdale, and then rode over the Salisbury aqueduct. Again,
objectively it was cool, but not as cool as I had hoped it would be.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-APnY72Zk8UE/U3k-8Jrk6VI/AAAAAAAACSI/tMZW0AXxD5U/s1600/00044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-APnY72Zk8UE/U3k-8Jrk6VI/AAAAAAAACSI/tMZW0AXxD5U/s1600/00044.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to the Big Savage tunnel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My lunch in Rockwood, after searching for an open store, was
rather disappointing, and the rest of the trail into Confluence was
not very memorable.
<br />
<br />
Camping arrangements at the Youghiogheny Dam Outflow in Confluence
were difficult to figure out. Apparently it was closed for the
season. I pitched the tent, and headed over to the Lucky Dog Cafe for
Sierra Nevadas and a burger. While I sat on the patio, the house
dogs, two chihuahuas, sat on my lap.. It's so funny how they tremble
when they're excited. The Lucky Dog reminded me of eating in the
Gastatte at the campgrounds in Germany: sitting at the bar, drinking
beer.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EATWUc7GCqg/U3k8dZNd5cI/AAAAAAAACQ0/1RgFkHD4ZlM/s1600/00056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EATWUc7GCqg/U3k8dZNd5cI/AAAAAAAACQ0/1RgFkHD4ZlM/s1600/00056.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After dinner, I walked around Confluence, since it was still
early—it had only been sixty miles. I tried to call Sandra, but
even though I could see the mobile tower, I couldn't connect.
Interestingly, Gmail worked. The night was cold, but I was
comfortable on the pad in the bag.
<br />
Commentary from the Germany Trip: “Again the oppressive silence”
but day three was the chattiest day for the 2010 trip.
<br />
<h2>
Day 4 October 8, 2010</h2>
Day four started the way most of the Germany trip days started:
socked in cold and fog: 42 F at 9:00. Just like in Germany, I
got all wet and cold taking down the tent. This time, though I had
proper cycling gloves, and not leather gardening gloves like in 1986.
After packing up, I headed over to Confluence to find some coffee,
and kill some time to see if the fog would burn off. I reasoned that
trip through Ohiopyle park would be scenic, and it would be
advantageous to be able to see more than 30 m.
<br />
<br />
Amazingly, the Turkeyfoot Valley Historical Society opens at
8:00AM on Fridays. The TVHS is my favorite kind of local historical
society: cases of stuff rescued from the attics of the locals. One
fascinating exhibit was a display of photographs of the villages that
were submerged by the Youghiogheny dam in 1947. Confluence was
spared, not because its size, but because it would have cost too much
to relocate the railroad. I breakfasted at Sisters Cafe. They make
the same coffee as the Silver Diner: insanely hot and devoid of
flavor.
<br />
<br />
The fog refused to lift, so I gave up and rolled out. After all
the expectation, Ohiopyle park disappointed. It was just a two-track
path through the woods. You could rarely see the river. I should have
left earlier; the effect of fog was minimal. I did see a bald eagle
gliding down the river.
<br />
<br />
Meanwhile the seatpost kept sinking. The more it sank, the more
my paranoia rose that the binder bolt housing was cracked. Why else
would it have let go after two days? The farther I went, the less the
bike looked like a touring bike, and the more like a clown bike.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PT4YdZO1ebg/U3k8kJZz_2I/AAAAAAAACQ8/NtFjmBIffBk/s1600/00060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PT4YdZO1ebg/U3k8kJZz_2I/AAAAAAAACQ8/NtFjmBIffBk/s1600/00060.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seatpost intervention in Connellsville, PA.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I stopped for another seatpost intervention in Connellsville, and
then twice more in quick succession to get the height right. But it
finally held. My paranoia dissipated. North of Connellsville, the
track is less wooded, but no more memorable. I passed through town
after town, each one more run-down than the one before. I stopped for
for an excellent lunch at the Trailside in West Newton. In no time I
reached Boston, which was the end of the GAP trail for me. By cutting
off the trail, I could save ten miles of a loop of the Mononghela For
the first time in 250 miles I went up a hill. And it was a
serious one. I ground along for a mile in the 38x32. Two map checks
later I was bombing down the other side. My complete lack of
confidence in my anemic brakes and the poor handling of the heavily
loaded front end ruined the downhill. I knew the road ended in a T
intersection at the bottom, and I had a vision of foot dragging right
into the river. Glassport Rd, which took me to the bridge over the
river was busy and super-industrial, with a depressing view of the
Clairton coke plant. I felt like I was barely moving.<br />
<br />
The tiny towns on the GAP trail had been depressing, but Clairton
made them look happy and prosperous. Half of the buildings on the
River road were abandoned. I managed to completely miss the entrance
to the Montour trail while looking at the coke plant. To my credit,
the sign for the trail was about 3x6inches. Instead of turning back,
I consulted the map and the GPS and continued up St. Clair Avenue,
thinking it would intersect the trail a few miles up the the road. As
I rode through downtown Clairton I felt nervous for the first time on
the trip. The main street looked pretty sketchy, and unlike the river
front, was full of people. I wondered if I could outsprint any of
them. I passed out of the downtown, certain that I was nearing the
intersection with the trail. Unfortunately, I soon found myself
riding out onto a bridge. Dismayed, I looked down and realized that
the trail ran along the streamside, 150 feet below me. I
continued on in denial across the bridge, certain that a footpath
would lead down to the stream. No such luck. Resigned, I roared down
Walnut Street with my anemic brakes back to the river, and the spot I
had been 20 minutes before. This time I found the trail, though.
<br />
<br />
My frustration continued, however, and I found myself uncharitably
cursing the Mountour Trail Association. Three miles later I was
standing at a busy intersection comparing my bike GPS, my phone GPS,
and the low-resolution laminated map I had made. I took another wrong
turn about a mile later. The signs for the trail were seemingly
randomly placed, and mostly in useless places—like when it was
obvious you were on the trail. They did provide some nice directions
around two of the road sections. After a few more wrong turns, I
ended up on the last section of the Montour trail, which then became
paved and slightly downhill. I was really motoring. I kept thinking,
“If I go through the tunnel, I've gone too far. But I'll hit the
street I want before that.”<br />
<br />
I saw one possibility to Angela's house off to the left, Linwood
Ave, but it was a dirt road with a 15 +% grade that looked like
it might be a struggle to get up. Just up the trail I reached the
tunnel. I stopped for some photos, and again, in denial, continued on
through. I asked a couple on the bridge, who were enjoying the
sunset, to confirm that Hidden Valley Rd was on top of the tunnel.
Why, I ask, should “Hidden Valley Rd” run along the ridge line?
Someone in Pittsburgh needs to vet these names more carefully.<br />
I backtracked, and turned up Linwood Ave. It was incredibly torn
up, and it was hard to keep the bike going in a straight line, even
though I was in the bail-out gear. At 3.2mph from my back pocket, I
heard the chime announcing a new text message. I knew it was from
Sandra, and that she had beaten me to the house, but I was not going
to stop and read it. After all I was only about a half mile away. A
few minutes later, after winning a drag race against a four-year-old
on an electric cart, I pulled up in front of Angela's house and a
very welcome cold beer.
<br />
<h2>
Recap</h2>
<br />
Three and a half days alone with my thoughts did not create the
mental melt-down I had feared. My back held out, after all the
seat-post interventions. I am, however, done with the C&O towpath
as a bike-touring destination. bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4100176723812470193.post-29921785289102323572013-10-01T23:40:00.000-04:002013-10-02T10:30:45.393-04:002013 Iron Cross Recap<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
“Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were.”<br />
― Marcel Proust</blockquote>
OK, I've never read Proust, but he aptly describes the Iron Cross experience.<br />
<br />
I've raced Iron Cross (billed as North America's first ultracross race) in 2008, 2012, and this year. The passage of a year dulls the pain, and leaves only the memories of the epic race. Two of three times I have been reduced to thoughts of just lying down off the track and giving up. Somehow that experience doesn't keep me from coming back.<br />
<br />
The course is mostly gravel fire roads with two (2-3) km long sections of mountain-bike single track. And of course, the signature section of the course is the Wigwam Runup: a 100-m-high goat path beneath a high-voltage power line. My GPS said that the gradient averaged 48%. New this year was the inclusion of about 10 km of rocky, rutted ATV trail at the end, and the deletion of a long segment of single track that formerly came at the end..<br />
<h3>
Race Summary</h3>
<div>
Unlike 2012, I was pretty stoked about the event. Conditions were perfect: shorts, Paceline embro , long gloves and arm warmers. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't like to criticize the course, (too much) but the rollout proceeded immediately into a 2m-wide shale-strewn path. I'm sure that within the first 5km, the leaders were already five minutes ahead. A longer open section to shake things out would have been fairer. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The modified course meant that we hit the first single-track section (Lippincote) only about 20km in to the 110-km race. It felt shorter to me this year, and seemed to beat me up less. After a short, fast descent on US30, we hit the base of Wigwam. Like every year, it was one long line of guys, bikes on the shoulders, rear wheel of the guy in front of you threatening to hit you in the face. Step. Plant the toe spikes. Step. Plant. Repeat. And once again using those running muscles just torched my legs. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
From the top of Wigwam the distance just flew by, and suddenly I was back at the start/finish and nearly halfway through the race. I pitted for two minutes at the back of Rob's van to refill my camelback and ditch my vest, gloves, and armwarmers. More flowing, fast, gravel downhill followed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I caught Tom Snyder, after buzzing his tire by accident, at the start of the Hogshead Climb. "Hey, Tom." "What are you doing here?!" and then back to grinding. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had been a little crampy up to that point, despite eating a Gu every 50 minutes and seemingly having the spigot of my camelback in my mouth the entire way. But I came completely unglued with 20km to go. It was all going well, until almost immediately it was not going well at all. I was forced to ride the (anemic) brakes on one downhill, as I was so bleary that I feared that I would not be able to ride out of a bad situation. I started counting the kilometers to the finish, which is never a good sign. I rode the next uphill section under reduced power for fear of cramping. My lower back was on fire, and my arms hurt from the combined braking and pounding. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The finish line was going to involve quite a bit of vertical, and I started praying it was going to be the road climb that we descended at the start. Every downhill seemed to be followed by another little wall of an uphill.Would that final climb never come? Instead of the road, the finish climb was an ATV trail. I realized that if the finish didn't come at 110 km, I might just get off the bike and lie down. Finally I could see the inflatable Red Bull finishing arch through the trees, but the climb was too steep. Only 150 m from the end, and I was pushing the bike. I remounted with 50 m to go, and rolled through. At least 10 guys passed me in the final 3 km.</div>
<h3>
Setup</h3>
I rode the Fuji with what should have been Conti Cyclocross Speed 35mm tires. Unfortunately, while setting up the bike on Saturday I saw that the sidewall on one was slashed, probably from my second flat at Hilly Billy Roubaix this year. I replaced it with a Panaracer 35mm that I had used in '12. It probably didn't make too much difference. The Fuji has a 46x34 with and 11x28 in the rear. That setup did accomplish some of my course recommendations from 2012, but did not address the one in all caps: NEED.MORE.BRAKES. The TRP cantilevers are just not sufficient for this course.<br />
<br />
I had gone back and forth about riding my mountain bike this year, but the course change that eliminated the long single-track section, which convinced me that the road sections would be more efficient on a 'cross bike. The downhill sections would have been slightly faster, and the lower gearing would have been an advantage with the mountain bike.<br />
<br />
The Panache shorts from the '13 NCVC kit are the nicest club shorts I've ever worn. Not quite Assos, but close.<br />
<h3>
Comparison with 2012</h3>
<div>
I was faster on every segment I examined. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<b>2012 2013 Segment</b><br />
11:39 09:28 Lippincote<br />
07:43 06:49 Wigwam runup<br />
09:02 08:50 Thompson Hollow Descent<br />
14:55 13:46 "Iron Pavement"<br />
17:44 16:15 Hogshead climb<br />
<br />
<b>Overall</b><br />
2008: 100 km in 5:14:59 @1:17:39 : 44th/93 starters in the 40+<br />
2012: 100 km in 5:03:17 @1:14:23 : 27th/79 starters in the 40+<br />
2013: 109 km in 5:24:10 @1:12:37 : 38th/94 starters in the 40+ (going backwards...)<br />
<h3>
Links</h3>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://ironcrossrace.com/" target="_blank">Iron Cross main page: http://ironcrossrace.com/</a></li>
<li><a href="http://ironcrossrace.blogspot.com/p/results.html" target="_blank">2013 Results</a></li>
<li>Iron Cross 2012 Recap <a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/william-luecke/iron-cross-2012-recap/10152155469880099" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/notes/william-luecke/iron-cross-2012-recap/10152155469880099</a></li>
<li>Link to <a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/85884435" target="_blank">2013 Strava data</a></li>
</ul>
<h4>
Notes</h4>
<ul>
<li>Drove up in Rob Campbell's van with Tom Snyder. Left from the Exit 11 park and ride. Took just about 1.5 hours to get to the parking area. Plenty of time.</li>
<li>My heart rate trace (no power data) was pretty consistent after the first 20 minutes: 158 bpm average. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
</ul>
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bill lueckehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04537962325352460024noreply@blogger.com0