The Cooperative Road Thong Network

Sherlock Holmes had his "Baker Street Irregulars;"  I have the Cooperative Road Thong Network to complement my own investigations.

The Team:
(out of respect for the participants, no last names without permission)

• Mark Anderson (x2)
• Carolyn Barkley
• Bruce B.
• Ernie B.
• Amanda B.
• Cary B.
• Cristina B.
• Stacy B.
• Andy C. (x4)
• Shawn D.
• Adam E.
• Harry Fang (x3)
• Sydney F. (x2)
• Christine F.
• Frank G. 
• Claudia G-M (x2)
• Elizabeth H.
• Mark I.
• Bill L. (a different one--not me!) 
• Rob L. (x3)
• Peter L.
• Jana P (x2)
• Jeff T.
• John V. (x3)
• Katherine L.
• Lauren P. (x3) 
• Molly P.
• Teresa R. and Rick M. 
• Mike S. (x2)
• Tom S.
• Tsahai T.
• Brian Thompson (x2)

The Collection:

2019-10-12 From RL on the 7AM ride on East-west highway.

2019-04-13 From Rob L on the Occidental College Campus (Los Angeles)

From Harry F. 2019-04-20 on the esplanade in San Diego

2019-04-02 From Frank G in Milan Italy.

2019-02-11 Keauu-Pahoa Rd. Hawaii
Brand:  Hanes From Bruce B. 

2018-10-03 From Bill L. Southgate Rd, Arlington Va: https://maps.google.com/?q=38.868816,-77.070963

From Andy C. Lake Placid NY 2018-09-06

2018-09-02 From Andy C. South Portland Me.

2018-08-12 From Lauren P. Gold's gym parking lot, Arlington.

2018-07-20 from Christina B. Table Rock Mtn, Golden, Colorado.

2017-12-31 from John V. Albuquerque North Diversion Channel path, between Menaul & Candelaria.

2017-11-27. From Amanda B. Dulles baggage claim.

2017-11-25 from Mark Anderson (#2) Ft Collins, Co, Coordinates: 40.577882, -105.073785

2017-11-25 From Rob L on Riffleford Rd, near the Baptist church.  

39.145957, -77.289074

2017-10-02 from Ernie B. Flagstaff Az during a pee-stop on a mountain bike tour. 

2017-09-11 from Sydney F, Bloomsburg, PA

2017-08-05 from Molly P. At Scott's Run Nature Park, Loudoun, VA

2017-06-25 from Stacy B Target @ Rio, Gaithersburg, MD 39.118, -77.202 (submitted 2017-07-11)

2017-07-04 From Katherine L. Quebec City, Canada.

2017-06-01 from Mark I at Fort Washington Park:    38.711054, -77.029593

2017-05-29 Roy Rd Sandia Puebla NM from John V.

2017-02-19 From Andy C. Clifton Inn  Charlottesville Va

2017-02-08 From Teresa R and Rick M. Waikoko Beach, Hawaii

From Sydney F. 2017-02-07 Bloomsburg U Lycoming Hall 3rd Floor.

2016-09-15. From Mike S.
Eastview building, corner of N Randolph and Fairfax Drive, 8th floor.  

2016-07-12 Thomas S on Riffle Ford Rd, near the sewage treatment plant. SO Brand

2016-06-01 From Adam E on the W&OD bike path near the East Falls Church Metro.

2016-05-22 from Cary B, Pittsburgh, PA

2016-05-27 From Claudia G-M. On the trail near the Kennedy Center.

2016-05-20 From John V  8th and Gold, Albuquerque, NM

2016-03-24 from Mike S. On the Mt Vernon trail just south of Crystal City intersection.

2016-03-22 from Andy C. corner of South Wakefield and 28th Rd South in Arlington. Stick came attached. Apparently no poking

 2016-03-08 From Claudia G-M on the Capital Crescent Trail

A "meta sighting" from Christine F. On US 211 going west up to Thornton Gap. Thanks for stopping!

2015-12-26
 From Harry Fang (submission #2) on Buffalo Mountain, VA 

From Carolyn Barkley, on Rt 11 between markers 46 and 47  in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park near the trailhead for "The Great Crack"  2015-12-21. Joe Boxer brand

2015-11-06 courtesy of Mark Anderson, from his yard in Fort Collins, Co.

2015-10-22 at Upton Hill Regional Park, courtesy of Peter Lindeman.

2015-08-27 from Shawn D--the first husband/wife independent submission. Size L7, Herring Run Park, Baltimore, Md.

2015-07-19 from Elizabeth H on her first ride back after surgery. Ednor Gardens, Baltimore, Md. 

2015-05-14 from Harry Fang at 3302 Jones Bridge Road, Chevy Chase, MD 20815.

2015-April: A dual sighting in early April 2015 from Brian Thompson on Rt 17C 3 miles west of Endicott, NY

2014-04-11 from Lauren P at Virginia Square Metro 7:30AM. Definitely from the "Walk of Shame."

2015-04-04 from Lauren P, in Arlington, VA

2014-09-26 Never used! Kind of a Minnie Pearl version. Seen in Washington DC. Contributed by Tsahai.

2014-08-06 From Jeff T. Spotted on the banks of the Charles River, in Boston, Mass.

2014-06-24 from Bath, England. contributed by Jana P

2014-04-20. Somewhere in Rockville, Md. Contributed by Jana P

Year-end Analysis of Racing in the MidAtlantic Bicycle Racing Association

Preface

I have a much nicer PDF of this analysis--ask for it in the comments section. And it has all the notes

1 Introduction

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
no data at all. I am always looking for ways to improve this document, and I consider all suggestions.
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)

2 What is MABRA?

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)  

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.

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. 

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. 

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.

Add caption

3 Demographics

Figure 3 plots the demographic data by age broken out by gender and racing category

for all MABRA riders in 2014. Figure 4 slices puts the data of Figure 3 into separate

panels by category.

Figure 3 Distribution of age of MABRA racers by gender and category.

Figure 4 Distribution of age of MABRA races by category and gender.

Figure 5 compares the age distribution of all USCF-licensed riders in 1989, (note 2) and

2005 to 2014. 3 In the 25 years since 1989, the median rider age has increased 14 years,

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

to older ages. In 2014, a significant hump appears for racers less than 20 years old. 

Historical USACycling membership demographics

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. 

Figure 6. Historical median racing age by category and gender. 

4 Historical USAC and MABRA data

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?

Figure 7. Historical USACycling membership data. 

 Figure 8 plots the analogous data for total MABRA memberships. After three years of stagnant growth, membership increased again in 2014.

Figure 8 Historical MABRA membership data.

Race Attendance–Who is actually racing?

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.

Figure 9 Histogram of the fraction (as percent) of races in MABRA/VA entered by each licensed racer

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.

Histogram of the fraction (as percent) of of races in MABRA entered by each licensed MABRA racer.

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.

Figure 11. Cumulative distribution of race attendance. (Results do not reach unity because unknown licenses are not considered.)

Notes

forgot it--ask for the PDF version.

New England Museum road trip

Summary

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. 

Day-by-Day

Saturday: Driving, bridges, Killington

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 Walkway over the Hudson worked nicely. The foresight of the people who turned an abandoned railway bridge over the Hudson into a pedestrian destination is truly incredible. 

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. 

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.

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.
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.

Hotel: Snowed Inn, Killington Vt

Food: Neptune Diner, Newburgh, NY, It was a NY Greek diner. They had gyros. Little Harry's, Rutland, Va. A little overpriced but basically OK.

Sunday: Racing, Randolph, Montpelier

Sunday was mostly given over the Vermont Overland Grand Prix, described elsewhere. 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.

Food:  Melaza Caribbean Bistro, Woodstock, Vt, (pretty good Cubano sandwhich)  Sarducci's Montpelier, VT (Saute'd Kale salad and garlic bread--good value. Nice open porch overhanging the Winooski River)
Lodging: Betsy's B&B. Pleasant enough, if in need of a little airing out.

Monday: Shelburne Museum and Burlington

Sandra and I had been to the Shelburne Museum 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 sugar baron, who  set out to document New England Americana much in the same way that Henry Mercer built up the the Bucks County Historical Society.

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. 

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

Indulging my childhood obsession with smokehouses and smoked meats. 

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. 

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. 

Food: Farmhouse Tap and Grill, Burlington, VT One too many craft beers, olive plates, bratwursts. Whew...

Lodging: Richmond Victorian Inn, Richmond Vt; Awesome neighbor cat. 

Tuesday: More Montpelier

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.

Sandra points at the last catamount shot in Vermont, in the 1880s..

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.
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.

Food: some forgettable place in St Johnsbury on the railroad Tracks.
Lodging: Concord's Colonial Inn, Concord, Ma

Wednesday: Concord, 19th century literature, old friends

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.

Stop 1 was the Concord Museum. Very polished, and with the most youthful and attractive docents I've ever encountered.

Sandra points at a shoe  at the Concord Museum

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.

After Louisa May Alcott we hit The Old Manse, which overlooks the bridge from "The shot heard round the world" Ralph Waldo Emerson lived there while writing "Nature" 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. 

Lodging: Concord's Colonial Inn

Food: Concord's Colonial Inn bacon-wrapped figs and cheese, Calimari

Thursday: Lowell, Industrialism and textiles

We went off the schedule for a day, and on a whim went to the Lowell National Historical Park. Initially, I thought it would be something to do for the morning, before heading down to New Bedford, but we spent the whole day.
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.

Sandra points at a balance at the Boott Mills Museum.

Weaving mills in operation at the Boott Mill. Only 10 of the 110 mills were running, and the noise was still deafening.

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.
Lodging in New Bedford was at the  Orchard Street Manor, 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.

Food: some kind of "Mufungo" at a Puerto Rican restaurant, then seafood casserole at Freestone's City Grill in New Bedford Delicious.
Lodging: Orchard Street Manor, New Bedford, Ma

Friday: New Bedford, Whaling, On to Cape Cod

We really short-changed the New Bedford Whaling Museum, 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 Drake Well last year on our 19th Century Technology Road Trip. Oil pumped from the ground spelled the beginning of the end of commercial whaling, though not, of course, of the widespread slaughter of whales. 

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."

We rushed the museum a little to fit in a visit to the Seamen's Bethel, which is featured in Chapters 7 to 9 of Moby-Dick  (and both excellent movie versions.) And then it was off to John and Rachelle's house on Cape Cod for the weekend. 

Sandra points at "Old Nemo" a fur seal purchased from PT Barnum. I'm unsure what he's doing in a whaling museum, though.

 

Scrimshaw display. The museum has an entire room of glass cases with stuff carved out of teeth and whalebone. Glass-case overload!

Saturday: Cape Cod, Beaches, Stand-up paddleboarding

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.

Sunday: Cape Cod, Telecommunications museums

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. 

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. 

The docents were a creepily eager--like members some kind of techno-religious cult. 

Sandra pointing at some kind of vacuum tube from at the Chatham Marconi Maritime Center. 

 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 French Cable Station Museum 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.

Sandra pointing at the only glass case we could find in the Orleans French Cable Station Museum.

Then it was back to John's for dinner.

John, Rachelle, and Sandra on the deck.

Monday: Mystic

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. 

Sandra watching the Mystic drawbridge rising.

Tuesday: Home!

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. 

Maria Laurendeau and me at her house in Campbell Hall, NY

Links

Museum and Venue Links

• Walkway over the Hudson, Highland, NY
• Shelburne Museum, Shelburne, Vt
• Vermont Historical Society, Montpelier, Vt
• Concord Museum, Concord, Mass.
• Louisa May Alcott House , Concord, Mass.
• The Old Manse , Concord, Mass.
• Lowell National Historical Park, Lowell, Mass
• New Bedford Whaling Museum, New Bedford, Mass
• Chatham Marconi Maritine Center, Chatham, Mass
• Orleans French Cable Station Museum, Orleans, Mass

Hotels

• Snowed Inn, Killington, Vt
• Betsy's B&B Montpelier, Vt
• Richmond's Victorian Inn, Richmond, Vt
• Concord's Colonial Inn, Concord, Ma
• Orchard Street Manor, New Bedford, Ma
• John and Rachelle's, Orleans, Ma
• Betsy and Dan's, Mystic, Ct

Vermont Overland Grand Prix

Executive Summary

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. 

The Race

Maybe I'm getting blase about these gravel-road races.

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!

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. 

Amusingly, it turned out I knew the promoter, Peter Vollers, from my Cornell Cycling team days, twenty five years ago. 

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. 

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 Woodstock Vt.  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. 

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.

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.

Pissed off just after repairing the flat. The photo shows a rather tame section of an ancient road. Photo credit Ryan Dunn: http://www.rwdunn.com/

Heart rate and speed. The big notch at 190 minutes is the flat tire change.  Averaged about 165bpm 

Enjoying a recovery beverage brewed by the race sponsor at a restaurant on the finishing straightaway.

Equipment

• 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. 
• 34x28 was not low enough. Some of the "ancient roads" would have been ridable with lower gearing.

Links

• The event page
• 2014 Results
• My performance on Strava  
• More photographs from Ryan Dunn, one of the moto escorts
• Information on Vermont's "Ancient Roads:" http://www.vtroads.com/index.htm and an article in Yankee magazine that explains some of the interesting legal issues about them

Hilly Billy Roubaix

2014 Summary

Executive Summary

Rain. And searing back pain

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. 

But the rain stopped in time to assemble for the rider meeting and rollout to the actual start line. 

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?

 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. 

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

I ground up to the finish, passed under the finish arch,  collected my mug, and rolled over to Rob Campbell's van, where I collapsed into a rain water - filled puddle for the next 10 minutes.  I ended up second, 25 seconds behind the winner. First time I've been on the podium in eight years. 

Race notes

• Bring chain lube with you. 
• The top three 50+ guys  all finished  within a minute after 5 hours.
• 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. 
• Drove up with Rob Campbell and Tom Snyder
• Link to  GPS Trace (strava)

Results

Year	Field	Time	Place	Overall	Winning Time	Notes
2014	50+	5:00:15	2	37th	4:19:35	Epic rain
2013	40+	DNF				Two flats, sheared rear derailleur off
2012	40+	5:01:21	8	30th	4:18:48
2011	40+	5:17:29	13	~32nd	4:19:25	Two front flats, one crash

 Links

Results

• 2014
• 2013
• 2012
• 2011

Video 

• 2014: Hilly Billy Roubaix from In The Crosshairs--a short documentary about the event
• 2013: on board video, where my ass is featured early on

Year-by-year highlights

2011

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.

2012

Drove up alone. Missed out on a podium finish after dawdling at the final aid station, but that cold towel was awesome.

2013

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.