From Jeff Ker, Toronto:

Greetings from TO.

Ok, raced the Tour of the Battenkill for the second time last Saturday. What a truly amazing course. A 105km race course with 4942' elevation gain of which 25% is gravel and/or dirt roads.

It is an unforgiving course but fantastic in it's design. It is point to point and addresses the root of suffering.

Last year I got my ass handed to me by thinking it was safe to register in the Master 40+ group. TOB does not really draw the enthusiast, yet the expert. So it doesn't matter what your passion level is for great races and great topography, it matters more what your climbing ability and raw power is. That said, yes, loving 'the art of the race' is not to be discounted, but you will pay a price.

This year my climbing was much better, my recovery much better and my raw power much higher. A good friend put me on a great program this past winter which was both interesting and very profitable. So this year I registered in the 45+ cat, new to this year, and I approached the start line to join a group of exceptionally fit 45+ year olds. It's rather amazing when you look around, you assume they are all stronger than you(and they probably are), some look well over 50 and you are not mere mortals in this world. You don't eat Cheese steak sitting on the couch for hours on end.

The weather was good. It was about 7deg C and it had rained the day before for the better part of the day and had packed the dirt sections down. Some were a little sticky and overall times were down.

The race pulled out with a neutral start for a few KMs when the pace car moved away and we leapt into a faster pace over some rollers. I was trying to remember around which corner the two first climbs were sitting. They sit one in front of the other, are about 20kms in and are nasty. The first not so steep but long and stepped, the second, gravel/dirt and about 13% and long. If you climb out of the saddle this one will step on you as it is gravel/dirt and steep so your rear tire will slip. 'Sit down!' the climb yells!

Last year I was dropped on the first climb. This year I sat for both climbs and made it to the top with the lead group. They dropped me shortly thereafter as they really hit the accelerations at the top like good climbers can. I wasn't alone though. I had probably 30 guys behind me and between them and some in front we took up chase and over about another 30 kms (50 total) we harvested enough eligible bodies to catch the lead group again. It was a beautiful exercise of sheer determination to 'not get left behind'.

I'll be straight with you, at that point I was satisfied with my efforts and could have packed it in there.

There was still the matter of the other half of the race to finish. The hills go up and down and each time you hit them they take a little more from you, and the speed is as high as one can get. Remember this is a long race with 86 in our group and if you are not at the front, then you are trying to balance who can help you and who you can drop. I don't really know how many climbs there are, but there could be 30 legitimate climbs.

Something I learned this time around, is one must eat at the neutral start, because the pace is too high for the first 30kms to eat OR drink. That's 1/3 of the race and you have nothing in you. I will touch on this a little more later.

I was working with a few guys, and it's just as well. When you are not climbing you are either going down hills or battling wind.

I was thanked for my long and hard pulls. Let me say that again - some guys thanked me and commended me on my pulls.

I felt giddy.

I've never been complimented like that by guys I considered strong racers. Scott's winter training was really paying off. This was another moment I thought,'I could get off my bike right now and hop in the broom wagon', ' these guys are impressed and thankful - i am a worthy racer'. We picked up more people, we lost people, some guys left me, it went on and on.

It wasn't until about 20kms to go that some fast group came up behind me and another racer and we realized they were in our cat. I couldn't understand how we could be so far into the race and these guys were moving at such a pace, though they were obviously way behind us. I still don't get it. They ended up dropping me with about 10km to go on a nasty climb where my legs were cramping so badly and spasm-ing, that I could see my leg muscles receding bout 3 inches up my leg and shaking in spasm. I knew I had the power to hit this climb as faster or faster than they were. I felt the power inside of me but it seems my legs were working at about 60%, and so it was...

One of the guys through out ' hey, that's gotta be a 20lb bike there' to my Marinoni. hardly 20lb but perhaps 17.5. It's not as old as anyone ever thinks it is. I was running homemade wheels of Record hubs with Reflex's and FMB Robaix green walls. Many of the racers bring their hottest road bike with carbon wheel set. I can't really imagine that, as there are so many places to crash on the gravel downhills, potholes and the other racers negotiating the same in a pack at times. Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to have my deep dish rims for the open paved stretches.

Re. the cramping, I remember what Gilbert said last year about a sprint at the end of the World Championship. He something to the effect of,' Everything is telling you to sit down, but if you do it is over, you must just keep pushing the crank'.

I knew if I stopped pedaling and pushing at a constant the muscles would just collapse, so I just kept on a willed the muscles to stay in check. They did and I got though it. They had been threatening me on and off for at least 15kms by that point. I had drank and eaten but a little too late. I suspect If I had done it right I would have gained 5 positions at least and 5 minutes off my time.

Up the last climb of the race, a fellow racer who had stuck with me through most of the second half fell to the mercy of cramped hamstrings and collapsed. I urged him on but to no avail. He was done. I powered on and at up one position in the last km.

I finished with 54th and a time of 3:21.

Comparitively, I took 10 minutes off my time from last year and felt good at the end. I climbed really well, seated for every one, and significantly helped the groups I was in with my pulls

Last year I cursed Scott for talking me into the race and this year I was eager to go back for next year. A very big difference.

To put it in perspective, the 60+ men's group winner was better than my time and 30 of the 75 or so were within 10min of my time.

That's men OVER 60 years old. This race does not draw the sportive rider.

I'm proud to be a contender and next year I will do ever better.

Skipton CC and the Tour of Flanders

From Sean:

Five of us packed into Bruce's car to make the pilgrimage to Flanders - me, Bruce, Tom, Mike and Stuart. Bruce has a Skoda Octavia estate and you can see why they make good team cars - it swallowed all of us and our gear without any trouble. Nightime ferry to Zeebrugge meant we had a leisurely day on Friday, including a little ride to a bike shop to buy a new tyre for me as I had a large cut in my back one. We would have gone further but it started snowing! Saturday meant an early start. Bruce, Stuart and I were doing the 259km ride starting in Brugge and finishing in Oudenaarde whilst Tom was doing the 140km ride starting and finishing in Oudenaarde so had to get the train there. Mike was nursing an injury so was chilling out soaking up the atmosphere. Bruce had some friends from around the UK riding so we all set off as a group at 7.10am.  It was very cold, not far from freezing. I wasn't wearing too many layers as I knew the pace would keep me warm but my hands were freezing as we rolled along in a huge group at about 30km.  In Belgium there are bike lanes along most major roads and the groups stuck to these mainly so moving up could be difficult, After about 10km we started rolling faster, moving up the outside of the groups and jumping across to faster groups. Hard to keep track of your crew in those circumstances but every now and then you'd see one of them rolling through. At one point I was stuck at the back of a massive group packing a bike lane with seemingly no way to the front when there was a slap on my buttock and a shout in Flemish. I squeezed to the right and a Flemish woman, well into her fifties, riding a Colnago came through.. I hopped on her wheel as she slapped and shouted her way through the group like a knife through butter and before I knew it we were through and off the front and rolling along in a fast-moving paceline. She was class. We regrouped at the first feed station after only about 20km (there were 7 in total!) and stuffed our faces with waffles (can't face waffles now) then off again. Got in a group with two towering Belgians and we flew along to the next feed station as they cracked the whip. At the next feed the group got split up when leaving as it was so chaotic. I was by myself, jumping from group to group when a serious express train came through with some strong riders in it. I punched my ticket and hopped on board for the next 30km. We were going so fast we caught Bruce's group, jut as he stopped for a 'comfort break'. Next stop was a feed station just before the Koppenberg (we'd already done the first climb which was a pretty innocuous tarmac drag).  Four of us regrouped and set off. You can see the Koppenberg looming as you approach it but you don't realise its steepness until you're on it. Steep and cobbled. I put it in the 39 x 29 and ground up it. Two motorbikes decided to ride up it at the same time. The first one clipped a cyclist and knocked him off; this freaked out the rider of the second on who toppled over right next to me with an almighty crash then lay there pinned under her huge bike blinking at me helplessly. Not much I could do and there were plenty of spectators about to help so I carried on. My strategy was to ease over the climbs (17 of them) and ride on the flats. By myself now but feeling strong on the flats and drags I carried on, joining groups when I could and taking my time on the short, steep climbs. The hardest bit is keeping your head together. I had no computer, the plan being to keep riding until told to stop., and I lost count of the climbs. We were doing them in a different order to the race the next day so you couldn't use the number on the banner at the top to keep track. My head nearly fell off when I saw 50km to go chalked on the road but I managed to rationalise it and use it as a countdown. Oude Kwaremont came and went - long, hard cobbled drag, then the Paterberg - very short, steep, only 300m long but long enough for Cancellera to destroy everyone.. Then 15km headwind home, jumping from group to group again with a final run in with a mixed group of Belgians, French and Italians. We all met up at the Expo at the end where there was free-running beer and frites and mayo - bliss. 9hrs 20mins riding time, 10 hours total - well within my expectations.

http://app.strava.com/activities/46518841

On Sunday we watched the start in Brugge.

We saw the race come through - break off the front, peloton just behind the stragglers already tailing off the back.

 

Great photo by Tom of Europcar hauling back the break. Then drove back to Brugge to watch the finale in a bar with beer to hand to toast Spartacus as he lay down the power. Great trip, great company, cheers boys.

Pacific Populaire, Vancouver

From Chuck, Vanouver BC:

Robert, myself, Martin and his posse road the Populaire last Sunday. We rode out from Robert's place about 7:30 to meet the rest of the crew at the Shell gas station at the bottom of Cap Rd. Robert's day didn't start off very well. Upon leaving his house he noticed his computer was dead and arriving at the gas station promptly got a flat. Not a good way to start our 140K day. With some help from Robin and a second tube later we were on our way. After sign on we Jammed ourselves as close to the front of 500+ riders as we could. As my luck would have it I missed two lights. (Bad positioning)  Everyone of our group were up the road. There was no sense of urgency in the group left two lights behind. I pretty much had to TT from 4th and McDonald to the beginning of Spanish Banks. Great a couple of matches burned and barely 5K into the ride. Martin and his crew separated themselves from Robert and myself as we climbed up to UBC. Bob waited for me at the top of the climb. I have to admit that Bob did most of the work getting us back on to a quicker moving group. There were about eight of us working well together. I was at the edge of my comfort zone all the way to the first checkpoint. Martin and his crew had arrived there a good five minutes ahead of us. As luck wood have it they were just leaving as we turned up and decided to wait for us. Robert and his group showed up just as we were leaving. Robert must have burnt the whole pack of matches TTing to get back on. An unbelievable effort to say the least. We were all back together as a group, plus at least ten others. We were moving at a pretty good pace. Fast enough for me to start praying I would be able to hang on for the last forty K. Martin and his crew were by far the stronger of our group. They were doing all the work into the head wind along River Rd. it wasn't long before we were two groups with the second group starting to really string out. By the the time we had made it to the Canada Line Bridge we were all back together again. Some of us a little worse for ware. Martin and his crew were still pushing the pace back up the hill to UBC, shedding riders all the way to 16th street. As I rounded the corner onto 16th Martin and his crew were about half a block ahead of me with a traffic light coming up. I prayed for and got a red light. Just what I needed to catch back on, but I was gassed from riding in the red up the long drag. The light turned green and they were gone. Ten K to go and I couldn't hold the pace any longer. I rolled in five minutes behind Martin. Robert was still a few minutes behind. We were all wet and cold as it had started to rain. So we texted Robert and off to the Musette Cafe for a coffee and warm up.  Robert dropped by the cafe to let us know he was heading straight home, said if he stopped he might not get started again. All in all a great ride. Met a few more roadies from the North Shore. (Martins Crew).  Looks like there will be a few more on the Baker Ride this year. Can't wait:)

Martin held the KOM from the start of the Populaire to the check point. That's a good chunk of real-estate. He must have posted first, because by the end of the day he had been dethroned:(

I have to say Martin has turned into a true Diesel. Seems like he can pull all day long.

Retro Wheel Build

Back in the days before aerodynamics had been invented the only thing that mattered on a race bike was weight. And the place it mattered most - and still does - was wheels. So as a permanently skint teenage time triallist I used to gasp in awe (but more usually exhaustion) as I was overtaken on a distressingly frequent basis by the North's toughest riders on super light wheelsets with silk tubs ringing on the tarmac. It was the 80's version of the 'disc wheel roar'. I was sure that if only I could ditch the tractor wheels on my race bike for a set of Mr Mavic's finest rims nothing could hold me back from stardom. And Mr Mavic's very, very finest rims at that time were the beautiful GEL 280s. 280, of course, referring to the rather optimistically claimed weight in grams, GEL standing for "something french beginning with G, Extra Leger". And extra leger they certainly were. Even today you have to look pretty hard to find a pair of box section carbon rims with a similar weight. So the cyclists' version of Murphy's law ("ability to afford kit you've always lusted after increases in inverse proportion to your ability to propel it forward at any decent rate") started to kick in and I eventually found a very suitable set of rims on eBay. Only Royce seemed to offer a suitably stylish hub in 28 hole drilling, and just to make the job of forward momentum a little easier I stumped up the cash for Sapim CXray aero spokes. Numerous visits to the always helpful customs officer at the post office later, I had all the bits ready to go and spent a weekend lacing and truing them up on my wheel jig, and gluing on tubs.
In spite of all the guff people spout about the art of wheelbuilding, it just takes patience, logic, a decent set of tools and an inexhaustible supply of tea & Oasis CDs. And the end result is shown in the photos, topped off with a close ratio Marchisio cassette (and why oh why do Campag and Shimano no longer make straight through cassette ratios? I really, honestly don't need either an 11 tooth sprocket or a 21 tooth sprocket. Or 10 sprockets come to that).

The question now is how long they will last before disintegrating. Time will tell.

Chistmas in Skipton UK.

I spent Christmas in Skipton with Sean and his family. Coming from Canada I didn't think the -10 celcius temperature would be a problem. It was so cold the fish pond in Sean's back yard froze solid. Cold is cold, dose not matter where you are. We just layered up and out we went. This picture was taken on top of a local Moor. It was a nice mix of road and off road riding. Sean was good enough to lend me his Fort Cross Bike for my stay in the UK. We did some really nice rides through the Skipton country side. The country roads were perfect for riding, quite and very little traffic. Spectacular scenery. One of the climbs Sean took me up was a 25% grade cobble road. It was about a kilometer long with tight switch backs. I wish I got some pictures of that beautiful climb. Truth be told if I stopped I don't think I would have gotten started again. I was just really glad to have mad it to the top. Sean had bought me a really nice head lamp for Christmas, so of course we had to test it out. We set out for our last ride on my last day in the UK. We left around 6:30am. Sun up wasn't much before 8:00am. Lots of time to test out the new light. It was like having a car head lamp on my handle bars. It was so cold out it didn't take long for my water bottles to freeze up. That was a first for me. We barely made it to the top of our climb because there was so much ice on the road. We decided not to try and ride across the top of the Moor as it was frozen solid. After walking the bikes for a while we decided to turn back. We still had a four hour ride. Just as we were getting back to town it started to snow. We decided to have breakfast at a local cafe, beans on toast with poached eggs. By the time we left the cafe for the ten minute ride home the snow had started to stick. We wouldn't want to be out to much longer with the snow starting to stick.
It was really great to have Sean as my personal tour guide to show me all the great riding he has on his door step. The one thing I learned about riding in the Dales is there isn't much flat riding,
you are either going up or coming down. Gives new meaning to rollers. Hey Sean the Richmond boys wouldn't like your routes to much.

Just a quick thank you to Sean, Claire, Matilda and Betty for being such gracious hosts and opening up their home to us over Christmas. We had a fantastic Holiday. Great Rides.

Jebel Hafeet Descent

Old bloke with dodgy camera descends big hill on a bike:

Mountain bike ride to Embsay Crag, North Yorkshire, England

Sub-zero but sunny morning; Claire and I had a baby sitter so the perfect opportunity to explore some local trails.  I'd scoped a local route and today was perfect to ride it because all the bogs were frozen solid and easily rideable rather than the usual muddy slog.  The first 2 miles were on road before heading up a farm track then joining the trail.  Steep uphill grassy climb, across a little stone bridge and over a little frozen stream running across the trail.

Through one of the many gates that dot the countryside to keep the sheep where they're meant to be and onto the bogland.  I find one of the few patches of unfrozen mud to put my feet into while trying to show off my gnarly mtb skills to Claire.  This amuses her as she picks her way through daintily, keeping her feet dry.  Then the rocky climb to the summit where we sit soaking in the silence and the view.

And then a fun little ride back down with a stop in Downtown Skipton for coffee and cheesecake.

Here's a picture of my new mtb, a Boardman Pro.  Bought from Halfords (for Canadian viewers, imagine a slightly upmarket Crappy Tire which is making an effort to sell decent bikes), it is a superb bike with unbelievably good components at a very reasonable price.  IMO, this is what a mountain bike should look like - basically, a road bike with fat tyres...