08.8.2007 | 10:55 am
Really, I ought to be packing right now. But I’m not worried. My list of things to bring to Leadville is thorough. Actually gathering and loading all the stuff is just a formality, really.
So, it’s time for us to make some wagers.
The Dug v. Fatty Saga: I Cannot Lose
Back in November, Dug and and I exchanged a little bit of trash talk. Specifically, I told him he was a feebleminded fool to do the Leadville 100 on his singlespeed. Dug responded by betting my bike against his in a fairly complex wager. Here’s how Dug’s challenge to me went, for those of you whose memories are as hazy as mine:
- If I finish Leadville next year in less than ten hours on my crappy, “Brad Keyes maintained†Surly Karate Monkey rigid singlespeed YOU will give ME whatever bike you ride in Leadville.
- If I finish in Leadville in more than 11 hours, I will give YOU the bike I ride in the race.
- If I finish between 10 and 11 hours, we’ll call it a push. You keep your bike, I keep mine. But, in this case, since I’ll have finished (and you contend I won’t finish), you’ll have to maintain my bike for me for the rest of calendar 2007.
So here’s the thing: As his challenge is written, it’s now impossible for me to lose. Why? Because Dug no longer rides a crappy, “Brad Keyes maintained” Surly Karate Monkey rigid singlespeed. Dug in fact now rides a beautiful Waltworks rigid singlespeed. Sure, this Waltworks is (yet another) Brad Keyes hand-me-down, but it’s still a beautiful, light bike. So Dug can’t satisfy the condition under which he would win my ultra-trick Weapon of Choice.
But what about the other two parts of the bet? Well, the second part is still in effect. If Dug finishes in more than 11 hours, he will give me the bike he rides in the race. Which is, as I’ve just noted, no longer an ancient Karate Monkey. Now it’s a bike that I would actually like to have. And I think there’s a pretty darn good chance Dug will finish in more than 11 hours. So far, consensus is he’ll finish in 11:15.
And as for the third condition, well, that remains in effect as well. I’m willing to maintain Dug’s bike for the rest of calendar 2007 if he finishes between 10 and 11 hours.
Which does not mean that I will necessarily maintain it well.
Contest: Place Your Own Bets
OK, so I’ve been pretty open about my weight, my training and my attitude about this race. I’ve also been pretty open about the fact that this will be the eleventh time I have done this race, and that the fastest I have ever done it is 9:13.
So, what time do you think I’ll finish with? I’ll give the person with the closest time an awesome Fat Cyclist logo-embossed Banjo Brothers Messenger Bag.
And while you’re at it, why don’t you guess Rick Sunderlage’s (not his real name), Dug’s, Kenny’s, Bob’s, and Brad’s finish times. I’ll give away prizes (I’ve got some Ergon grips, a Fat Cyclist T-Shirt, and some Banjo Brothers pocket messenger bags to give away), to the people who come closest to guessing their times.
In case of a tie for any of these guesses, the earliest entry wins. That’s fair.
Pics and Short Posts for the Next Few Days
The good folks at Apple have been kind enough to provide Dug, Susan and me with iPhones. I’ve set them up so we can easily post pictures and quick notes from these phones. Assuming we get a signal in Leadville (far from certain), we’ll post pictures and comments during the next couple days, and Susan will post pictures and updates during the actual race.
OK, time for me to go pack. Wish me luck (with the race, not with packing. I don’t need luck for packing).
Comments (113)
08.8.2007 | 9:21 am
Elden tries to look somewhere, ANYWHERE, but not at Brad.
doug
Comments (4)
08.7.2007 | 10:39 am
I’ve been riding for about thirteen years now. Not nonstop, mind you, but I’ve got my share of miles in. Right now, though, I’m doing something I have never ever done before, bikewise.
I’m tapering.
Yes, I am following — mostly — Coach Lofgran’s schedule of riding less while drinking more (water), and resting.
I don’t like it.
For the past ten days, I haven’t had a ride that’s left me cooked at the end. I am constantly having to hold myself in check. About the time I get up to a cadence and speed that feels good, I notice that I’ve just bumped out of my target heart rate, and I have to dial back.
I’m riding short, I’m riding easy. It feels wrong. I’m itching — aching, really — to attack a hard climb. I yearn to find a flat road and open up, exploring the limits of my legs and lungs. I want to get on the bike for five hours and disappear into the rhythm and ache of the ride.
Sheesh, I sound like a lovesick teenager, don’t I? Or maybe a junkie in need of a fix.
Self-Restraint
Yesterday, I rode for just over half an hour, staying in zone 1 and 2. It feels weird to get to a minor bump of a hill and shift down and try to climb without letting your heart rate go up, instead of shifting up two gears and attacking. It feels crazy to do a ride, start to finish, without exerting myself; it’s like going for a drive without ever touching the gas pedal. It feels so strange, to quit just about the time your legs have awakened.
But I’m doing it. Coach Lofgran got me to this point — I’m faster than I’ve ever been, as near as I can tell — so I’m sticking to the plan.
Well, mostly I am, anyway. Bob’s in town now and he wanted to ride Tibble — which is in the most perfect condition it’s ever been in — right now. Who am I to say “no” to a friend who’s flown all the way from Seattle to go riding?
Today I was supposed to stay in zones 2 and 3a. I’m pretty sure that’s not even possible on some of the pitches going up Tibble. So I might have seen zone 4b for a couple of minutes.
Or possibly zone 9, but just for a second.
Mostly, though, I took it as slow as I could without falling over. And you know what? Tibble’s a lot easier if you don’t pedal as hard.
I am so insightful.
Psychological Component
I’ve got this theory about tapering. The physical component — keeping your legs fresh and rested and storing up some fuel in your body — is just half of what the taper is for.
The more important part is what it does to your head. I figure that by the time I get to the starting line at Leadville, I won’t just be excited for the race, I’ll be excited to ride — to stand up and climb. To ratchet up to a tall gear. To go fast.
Of course, this means that I’ll be a slobbering, drooling, hyperactive freak by Saturday morning.
Once the race starts, though, I should be just fine.
Comments (25)
08.6.2007 | 9:06 am
An Explanatory Note from Fatty: This is it. This is the week before Leadville. Those of you who know me or have read this blog for any time at all know that this event consumes my every waking thought during the week before the race. So that’s what I’ll be talking about for the next few days. Thank you for your patience as I obsessively obsess.
Last year I bought a nice Fisher 29″ Paragon as my main ride. I made a few tweaks — lighter wheels, lighter brakes, rigid fork — and called it the Weapon of Choice.
It turns out I should have done less; riding a mountain century with a rigid fork before I was used to it was a bad idea.
That said, I could have done more.
And now I have.
Allow me to introduce The Weapon of Choice, Mark II: This Time It’s Really, Really Personal.
Overall Effect: Stealth
At first glance, the Mark II (as I like to call it) is not a bike you’d particularly notice. Certainly, it doesn’t have the sexy modern sculpture look you can get with a carbon fiber frame. It’s an aluminum hardtail, for crying out loud. How passe.
There are a few details are worth noting, however.
Cranks: Sexy, Silly
I may as well get the most decadent part of the bike over with. Here, take a look at the cranks.
They’re not that much lighter or stiffer or whatever-er than any other crank out on the market. But mercy, they are beautiful. I mean, they’re the most beautiful cranks since those mirrored Syncros cranks from back in the day. Those of you who have been riding for at least seven years know which cranks I’m talking about.
The Fork: A Better Idea than Ever
Like last year, I’m riding this race on a completely rigid bike. However, the Bontrager carbon fork I used last year now lives happily on my singlespeed. Which means I needed a new fork. Behold:
Yep, a White Brothers Rock Solid 29. It weighs exactly nothing at all.
Last year, I was a fool to ride the Leadville 100 on a rigid fork, having no experience at mountain biking on a fully rigid bike. This year, on the other hand, I’ve been riding fully rigid bikes — both my singlespeed and geared bike — the whole year. I’m as comfortable with this fork as I ever am downhilling. Which is not particularly comfortable, but that’s something I’ve finally accepted about myself: I will always suck at downhilling, and that’s just the way it is. Alas.
Super-Fast New Decals
My new Fat Cyclist decals are 30% lighter than last year’s model.
Just kidding, these are the same things I printed out on overhead projector plastic and affixed with packing tape last year.
Where the Rubber Meets the Road. Or Dirt. Or Something.
I fully acknowledge that I am being a goofball about some of these changes. I think, though, that even the churliest among you would agree that a tireset that weighs a half pound less than my previous tireset is a good idea. Dropping a half pound of weight at the very outside of your 29″ wheels makes a noticable difference in how the bike feels. So please give a warm welcome to my new Maxxis Crossmarks:
Oh, and also be sure to notice that I’m riding with my acid-green Twin Six Crest bottles.
Very, Very Important Change
Perhaps most importantly of all, I have replaced the two yards of duct tape I keep wrapped around the seatpost with one yard:
Just consider the weight savings!
And, as you can see, I’m sticking with the SLR saddle I talked about recently.
Grand Total
None of these changes, by themselves, amount to much. Add it all up, though, and I now ride a 29″ geared mountain bike that weighs pretty much exactly 21 pounds.
I believe it shall do quite nicely.
PS: He was in, then he was out, then we thought he was in, but he was actually still out. I am speaking, of course, of Lance and Leadville. This snippet from VeloNews says that Floyd’s still in, though. I’m bringing a Pink Fat Cyclist Jersey for him to wear. I will report on the success of this effort as events warrant.
Comments (45)
08.1.2007 | 8:56 pm
Have you ever thought about how many separate moving parts your bike has? Wheels, cogs, levers, cables, bearings, a chain, and a couple of pincers. All of which need to be working — more or less, anyway — for your ride to go off well.
Here’s a mental exercise to do sometime while riding: think about all the moving parts in your bike’s drivetrain, starting with your cleats and working all the way through your pedals, cranks, bottom bracket, chain, derailleur(s), freewheel (if you’ve got one) and wheel.
Makes you dizzy, doesn’t it?
Like a car, a modern bicycle is crazily sophisticated. But you can ignore all that complexity, because actually using the bike is simple, reliable, and worry-free.
Most of the time.
The Genius of the Quick Release Skewer
I have, on occasion, stared at the quick release skewer at the front of my bicycle and marveled at it. It’s an almost impossibly elegant design, performing a crucial task with an absolute minimum number of parts: Tighten on one side to a certain point, then use the clever cam-shaped lever to cinch it tight. No tools required. Voila, your wheel stays put.
It’s too perfect a design, frankly, to have been designed by humans. I suspect aliens from the future brought it too us, at the same time they revealed that vinegar and egg whites could be combined to make mayonnaise.
Where was I? Oh yes: the quick release lever. It’s a marvel. It does its job exactly, intuitively, and reliably. I have never, in my entire life, created anything so perfect.
About a week ago, though, a quick release skewer just about made me throw up.
Easy as Pie
I’ve been riding the Tibble Fork trail – my favorite trail in the world – a lot, lately. The route I take makes for an intense climbing workout, followed by an exquisite downhill, all on ridiculously beautiful forested singletrack.
I’ve been trying to open up a bit more on the downhill, figuring that my big wheels should make up for my slow reflexes and timidity. And they have been. I’m a little faster going down than I used to be, though nowhere near as fast as any of my riding friends. That will never change.
Anyway, following a terrific climb and very good downhill, I rolled up to my car, ready to take my front wheel off so I could put the bike on the truck’s fork-mounted rack.
The front wheel’s quick release skewer just plopped open.
No effort required.
At all.
So I sat down and gave myself some time to let the wave of nausea pass, thinking about what I had lucked out of.
Not the Only One
The thing is, I know this same thing has recently happened to Dug — except his skewer actually flopped open while the bike was rolling, calling Dug’s attention to it.
Brad tells me it’s happened to him, too.
Is it the extra torque disc brakes put on the skewer? Is it that skewers just wear out and need to be replaced every so often? Am I just getting old and forgetful?
Hardly matters, really. I’m freaked out no matter what the answer is.
And you may rest assured that I now check the lever plentysix times per ride.
Comments (51)
« Previous Page — « Previous Entries Next Entries » — Next Page »
