FLCC> Tuesday Night A Report and Commentary (loooooong)

[Sara Barker]

Hi Ano,

I rarely read things that are this long (some of us actually have to work 
once in awhile :-)), but damn if you didn't make me laugh hard right from 
the beginning and I read the whole darn thing. Glad that apple is gone, ick.

Nice ride!
Sara

At 03:27 PM 6/13/2007, mgarcia at borgwarner.com wrote:

>It was a dark and stormy night.
>
>Well actually the weather started off quite beautifully.
>It didn't get dark and stormy until later (in more ways than one).
>But let's begin at the beginning.
>
>As I have described previously, my Tuesday Night Race routine begins
>around 3PM on Tuesday afternoons by studying the weather radar and
>poring
>over the short-term forecast.  Sometimes this sparks a big fret-fest but
>lately the weather has been good and so the go or no-go decisions have
>been
>pretty easy.  Yesterday seemed to follow that pattern -- weather seemed
>nice,
>almost no chance of rain.  Well, 20% chance is like almost nothing.
>
>We have an internal technical conference going on at work this week, so
>I
>have been sitting through a lot of presentations.  I have also been
>eating
>a lot of food.  I picked up an apple from the free-food fruit basket,
>thinking
>it would make a nice pre-race snack and walked into the locker room to
>change into my
>cycling clothes.  As luck would have it, while I was fussing with my
>pile of clothes,
>the darned apple fell off the bench and started rolling along the locker
>room floor.
>I started to chase it, but it had enough of a head start that it rolled
>into one
>of the bathroom stalls.  I was in a bit of a hurry to nab the renegade
>apple,
>so I didn't pay attention to whether or not anyone was occupying the
>stall and
>I barged in to grab it.
>
>Now I bet you are thinking that I am going to tell you how I barged in
>on someone
>in an advanced state of meditation, but fortunately the stall was empty.
>
>Unfortunately however, the apple continued to roll happily along into
>the next
>stall which was also (fortunately) empty.  Cursing the apple, I went
>from stall
>to stall as it rolled along collecting bacteria and God knows what else,
>just missing
>it until I finally reached under the stall and nabbed it, then finished
>the operation
>off by banging my head on the stall door coat hanger while standing back
>up.  Bad apple.
>
>Finished changing and got into my car.  If you have ever seen my car
>interior you know
>that it looks like a tornado just hit my house and deposited much of its
>contents
>into my car.  So I had to think a bit about where to put the blasted
>apple.  I decided
>to balance it between my sunglass case in one cup-holder and my water
>bottle in the
>other cup-holder.  Bad idea.  As I drove by the company pool trying to
>impress the
>attractive female lifeguards by looking suave and debonair wearing my
>cool sunglasses,
>casting an aloof but mildly interested look in her direction, the vile
>apple struck again.
>
>All of a sudden, the siren in my car turns on.  It is still there from a
>couple of
>years ago when I was a volunteer fire chief, and I haven't gotten around
>to removing it.
>What happened was that the apple rolled over onto it and hit one of the
>switches to get
>it going.  Boy is it loud.  Now I have the lifeguards' attention all
>right, but not for
>the right reasons.  Trying to remember how to turn it off, I push a few
>buttons and
>after whoooping and beeping a bit more, it finally stops, but not until
>I almost
>drive off the road because I haven't been paying attention to where I'm
>going.
>How embarassing.
>
>At that point I figured only one of us was going to finish the day
>alive.
>So I ate the apple.  Bathroom germs and all.
>
>Anyway, so that you don't spend all day reading this (and I don't spend
>all day writing it)
>I'll fast forward to the ride out to the top of Ringwood. Ernie,
>sporting his
>Whitney Point winner's jersey, demanded to know why I wasn't at the
>race.  My excuse was
>that I had gone on a chauffered wine tour with a bunch of people from my
>neighborhood.
>Even though I didn't get to ride my bike, it was still a blast.  I have
>to put in a plug
>for a winery that was completely new to me - Rasta Ranch on Rte 414.
>Had a Bob Marley
>Jimi Hendrix etc. kind of theme.  The tasting fee was minimal. They
>served nice portions of
>wine.  The hostess apologized for serving the wine in plastic cups
>because they didn't
>have enough clean glasses for our group, but then added "if you are into
>swirling your
>wine, and all that bullsh*t, you can go somewhere else."  I loved it.  A
>nice change of
>atmosphere from some of the snobbier places.
>
>http://www.winecountrycabins.com/to_do/wine/wineries/rasranch.htm
>
>So, we filed our way up to the top of Ringwood.  Ernie and I speculated
>on the
>power improvements he could have if he had only brought his carbon race
>wheels.
>Abe and I both commented that on the days that we felt the worst BEFORE
>the race,
>we usually ended up feeling good DURING the race.  As usual, I was
>feeling pretty bad.
>Hopefully the trend would continue. I noticed that off to the East, the
>sky was looking
>just a little darker than usual. But that didn't surprise me, given that
>the storms
>were expected to push down along the Rte 88 corridor.
>20% chance of rain is nothing, right?
>
>Glenn announced that the As would be racing up Ringwood twice, finishing
>on Mt. Pleasant.
>I had more or less expected this, since it was getting close to the
>longest day of the
>year and since there had been the spot of bother two weeks ago with the
>drunk guy on
>Snyder Hill.  This course description didn't seem to intimidate a lot of
>people, as
>we had a good-sized group roll out and get up to speed down Midline.  A
>rather
>large sub-group including Glenn and other significant firepower got a
>bit of a gap
>but those of us who missed the boat smelled danger and chased back on.
>The pace
>was not all that high, seemed like people were riding more
>conservatively than usual.
>In fact, it has seemed that way all year ... more on that later.  No
>real nail-biter
>action (sorry if you took a flyer and I fail to report it here) until we
>turned onto
>Ringwood and approached the bridge, which is traditionally where the
>pain starts.
>
>Now, you may know I was thinking about buying one of those recent 303
>wheelsets that
>have come up for sale.  What does this have to do with racing up
>Ringwood?  Well, in
>my hemming and hawwing about buying or not buying, I have been wondering
>how long it
>takes until my spokes start to break on my 11-year old Zipp 340s.  On
>the way up Ringwood
>I found out.  I heard a sploinging noise and looked down to see my nice
>carbon rear wheel
>going wobbly bobbly, now missing a key element of its tensile structure.
>For a brief
>moment I thought maybe this would be a great excuse to drop out and
>avoid the inevitable
>suffering that was about to ensue.  Unfortunately however, I opened up
>my rear brake and
>found that I could still ride OK on the broken wheel.  The only extra
>energy being
>expended at this point was probably mental.  So I soldiered on.  I
>picked up the pace
>a bit as the road tilted up, only to have Andy and Glenn blast by me.
>
>Not wanting to miss the train, I stood up and realized I was still in my
>big ring.
>That wasn't going to work for much longer.  I read somewhere that
>experience is a
>wonderful thing because it helps you recognize mistakes when you make
>them over and
>over again.  I should know better than to down-shift to the small ring
>when I am in
>the large rear cog, but I did it anyway and ... bloing! gling!  My chain
>falls off
>the little ring into the bottom bracket netherworld.  I spin my loose
>crank helplessly,
>drifting off to the shoulder, trying in vain to shift back onto the
>little ring as
>everyone blows by me trying to keep up with Andy and Glenn.
>
>As my speed dwindles down to zero, I have just about resigned myself to
>stopping and
>getting off the bike when at the last possible moment, my chain catches
>and
>I managed to grang it back on the chainring.  Whew.  Now to make up for
>lost time.
>I burned a match or two (as Chris Carmichael says) to get back up to the
>front group
>over the top of Ringwood. As it turned out, I didn't need to.
>
>Slight philosophical segue here, but I guess you are used to them by
>now.  At the risk
>of drawing ire from my fellow riders, I have to say that it seems like
>we race slower
>and/or less aggressively this year than in years past.  At least if we
>are not slower,
>then there is more parity, leading to bigger groups getting over
>Ringwood.
>Maybe that is because, besides Glenn, we lack the clearly superior
>riders of the past
>like Timmerman, Chadeayne, Peck, Vollers, Trevor, etc. who would drive
>the train up
>and over and if you weren't there over the top you could kiss it goodbye
>because you
>weren't going to catch it.  Whatever the reason, in a kind of sadistic
>way I miss those
>days of clinging to the lead group over the climb and then hanging on
>for dear life.
>
>Anyway, back to the race.  I caught back to the front group, wondering
>if bad things
>do come in threes and if so, did the apple count, and if not, what was
>number three
>going to be?  Glenn got a gap over the top and worked it until about
>halfway
>down Midline, when I could see him starting to coast.  I could also see
>it getting
>quite dark in the east. Glenn surmised that Harford was getting rained
>on.  But we
>were in Caroline, not Harford, so why worry?  We weren't working all
>that
>hard, and riders caught back on in twos and threes down that stretch.
>Through "suicide
>junction", up the steep little bugger of a rise, then down the back
>stretch.  I wasn't
>trying particularly hard to get a gap but no one else was trying
>particularly hard to
>prevent me from getting a gap either, so I ended up pedaling tempo for
>awhile, just
>dangling off the front.  Did I mention that the sky was looking darker
>than before?
>
>After a bit, Glenn joined me and I thought maybe we could go
>places if no one wanted to chase hard.  As I latched onto his wheel, I
>started to feel
>a bit low on gas, so I reached into my back pocket for a shot of Hammer
>Gel.  I opened
>the packet and squeezed a bit into my mouth.  Yuck, didn't like this
>flavor.  I
>tried to push the rest of the gel up near the top, kind of like you do
>with a toothpaste tube.  But I pushed too hard and splutzed the rest of
>the packet
>of gel all over the front of me.  Tried to clean it up a bit, only
>succeeded in smearing
>it all over my jersey, hands, and then, in turn, onto my handlebars and
>waterbottles and
>anything else I came into contact with.  It looked a bit like I had
>puked on myself.
>Made me feel tough.  Not to mention sticky.
>
>After this little distraction I started to work again, but then realized
>that we
>had been caught.  At that point I kind of resigned myself to sit in
>until we
>hit Ringwood again, although in retrospect maybe that was a mistake.
>Somehow
>ended up off the front a bit (again) with Joe Bailey -- don't know how.
>Sat up and
>waited for the bunch to arrive.
>
>Up Ellis Hollow the second time, Doug Carlsen and Aridk got a sizable
>gap but
>there was a substantial headwind and there was a notable lack of
>interest in
>chasing.  If Glenn had attacked here, he would have stayed away to the
>finish for
>sure.  Or he could sit in and roast us at the end.  His option, I guess.
>I
>think I might have voiced some frustration to one or two people at the
>slowness
>of our pace.  Doug is a strong enough rider that if we gave him too much
>rope,
>I felt that he had the potential to stay away for good. Then again, I
>guess
>I wasn't working that hard either, so maybe I should have kept my mouth
>shut.
>Oh well, no one seemed to take it personally.
>
>Up Ringwood for the last time.  Now the sky was getting really dark.
>And the wind started to really swirl the leaves, like it was about to
>storm.
>Much better than 20% chance of a storm I would say.  Someone in the
>group let out
>a war whoop, like this was exciting for them.  Speaking for myself,
>getting caught
>in lightning storms is not my idea of fun.  Crawling around in burning
>buildings
>with a hose is a good time, but lightning scares me.  The faster we get
>to the top,
>the faster we can get home I think.  So I went a bit faster.  We all
>did.
>
>Didn't care anymore about roasting my legs before the finish, didn't
>care about
>staying on Glenn's wheel, didn't care who was behind me or who wasn't --
>I just
>wanted to be done ASAP.  So I probably did more pulling than was prudent
>but like
>the scorpion said when he stung the horse in the middle of the river
>after
>promising not to, and they were both about to drown ...
>"Hey, what did you expect? I can't help it, that's just what I do."
>
>Don Sproull and Andy M. made a couple of jumps as we climbed the
>freshly-chipped
>starting section of Midline and then onto Mt. Pleasant. I tried to keep
>pace with
>Andy M. as he churned over a big gear, but I was nearing my limit.
>Looking back I
>saw that the two of us had a bit of a gap on the bunch, and I kept it at
>my limit
>over the next-to-last climbing bit.  I didn't let myself dream of
>sprinting against
>Andy for the win ... not yet anyway.  We tucked in for the dip and I was
>expecting to
>see the leadout train blow by us at any moment.  But it never came.  At
>least not
>the way I was expecting.
>
>Up the finishing stretch, Andy and I were giving it all we had.  We even
>had the
>benefit of a strong tailwind, but it still felt like we were crawling.
>I dared
>to look back and lo and behold a sizable gap back to Don Sproull's
>orange jersey.
>I saw the finish line at the telephone pole just about fifty years
>ahead.
>I briefly fantasized about my first Tuesday Night win ever, but it was
>becoming
>clear that Andy was getting a gap on me.  Then the devil hissed into my
>ear.
>"Well," he said, "second place isn't too bad either."  Thinking Andy had
>the win,
>and I had second locked up, I gave up and turned it down a notch.
>
>At that moment, a yellow blur zoomed by.  Glenn had come out of nowhere
>and blasted
>up the finish stretch.  He caught up to Andy and passed him to take the
>win.
>Oh well.  I'm getting used to finishing third.
>
>Now, I normally like to relax and chat the top of Mt. Pleasant.  It is a
>beautiful
>view up there, like you are on top of the world.  The hard work is done
>and it is
>usually time to enjoy camaraderie and exchange race stories.  I turned
>around to
>watch the finish, but what caught my attention was the black eastern sky
>and flashes of
>lightning.  I pointed myself Westward and skedaddled out of there, as
>did
>everyone else.
>
>It was quite a tailwind back to the parking lot.  I discovered, along
>with a few
>others I guess, that the loose gravel at the bottom of the steep part of
>Mt. Pleasant
>makes for a very exciting stopping adventure. Other than that, the trip
>back to
>the parking lot was without incident.  The lot was mostly empty, I guess
>
>because the other groups had finished and gone home.  Quite literally as
>I rode
>into the parking lot, the rain started to fall.  As I got off my bike,
>my hamstrings
>chose that moment to cramp up.  So I hobbled about trying to get my bike
>on the
>rack and change my clothes, all the while encouraging my hamstrings to
>not rip
>themselves in half.  Probably looked pretty funny.  As I started to head
>home, the
>rain fell in earnest.  Hopefully it washed the sticky gel goop off my
>bike.
>
>All in all, a nice painful night.  Even more painful later on when I
>stepped into the
>shower and realized that I had developed the worst case of saddle sores
>ever.
>Hmmm ... maybe time to pitch those purple shorts.  Feels like I stuck a
>grinder up
>my crotch -- can hardly walk today.
>
>I'm tempted to continue with more gory details of saddle sore
>home remedies and how the apple came back to haunt me,
>but I'd better stop there.
>
>Thanks for reading!
>
>Cheers,
>Ano
>
>
>Mariano Garcia
>BorgWarner Morse TEC Inc.
>Ithaca Technical Center
>770 Warren Rd.    Ithaca NY 14850
>Ph: 607-266-2136 (desk) 607-266-2243 (recep)
>FAX: 607-257-5033
>email: mgarcia at borgwarner.com
>
>
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