And Then...There Was Finchford

Just when I was thinking that perhaps I had this whole road thing figured out, we threw Finchford into the mix. A 5.5 mile circuit repeated five times. Sounds easy enough. Then throw in a few hills, a smaller group and some 20 to 30 mph winds. Still, very doable.

Throw on top of that a little more than 200 miles in the legs in a 8 day period, a TT less than 48 hours prior, and temps that were a little more than chilly.

There you have Finchford. Oh. And did I mention peeling one's ass from bed at 5 a.m. to drive over and then racing back soas to get the kid to baseball in time?

I am so NOT a morning person. What DO I have figured out?

The more you learn, the less you know. In comparison with the Iowa City Road Race, this was not even on the same scale. Iowa City was fast. One attack after another with my heartrate skyrocketed out my ears 99.9% of the race. During this race...at one point I nearly peed myself laughing. Yes. Laughing. It was by comparison's sake...real slow.

We thought we had a plan, and it could not have been further from coming to fruition.

Nonetheless, one cannot underestimate multiple attacks in the final 2.5 miles into a headwind and a finish into said headwind that goes straight up. My legs are STILL screaming from that final sprint. Anti-climatic as that race was, the finish was exciting. It also nearly killed me.

Results from Finchford are here.
Iowa Cup standings here.

Iowa City Old Capitol Road Race and Crit

Well, we survived the lung-searing affair that is the Iowa City Crit this weekend. My little family of two had about seventy schedule changes throughout the previous week that made it all seem like it might be a stretch to even get there in tact, but with a little help from some aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, we conquered and successfully made it three places at once. Or something like that.

Tyler is now proudly 1-0 in Padres Little League Play, and if I ever locate my new and now lost Flip, I will begin to post interviews with the little fart after each game. This Little League stuff is SERIOUS business, and there is nothing better than seeing my little man completely jacked about his team.

I can now also say that I have lived to tell about my first time trial (Elkhart), and today I will recount my first road race, and first crit.

My overall goal for the road race was to not get spit off the back and left to battle the wind and rain by my lonesome. Well, seconds before the thing started and I'd run back and forth to the restroom eighty times, I looked over to Maria and declared that perhaps my initial goal was a bit too lofty; that my NEW goal was to not shit my pants.

I think she shit hers laughing.

Mission accomplished; although I did find myself just completely out of gas in a way that I have never been out of gas on the bike, well, ever. I hung on with the fastest portion of this group for the first 22 miles or so. I was also able to do a few successful chases, hold a woman back from attacking Maria a few times, and then sat back and happily watched Maria kick some serious ass and come out second. I wound up eighth.

Not bad and yet not good. Room for improvement. Plenty of it.

And then there was the time trial. Given my Iowa City dwelling brother's account of this event which was:

"Holy shit, you're doing that?! We used to sit at the bottom of the hill drinking beer and watching all the crashes!"

My goal: don't crash.

And again, I am happy to report mission accomplished. This was no small feat given that the second they whistled the start, the rains came pelting down. The roads were slick and brick and yet, I did not crash. And after about the third climb I really settled into a good rhythm and several laps later I was actually somewhat floored when they whistled the bell lap...I wanted to keep going. I was beat on the final sprint by the woman who won the road race the day before, although I had beat her up the climb on three subsequent laps. Never a good way to finish, but a great way to learn a thing or twelve.

Cest la vie....I have room for improvement and much to learn. I came out a respectable fourth and won some beer money to boot (a shiny new fi'tty CENT piece...and yes, you had to be there).

Oh. And by the way, this racing thing...it's FUN....and aside from the thinking you're going to puke/shit yourself PRIOR to the race, and the thinking you might die DURING the race parts...it's REAL fun.

There will be a subsequent post about all this later; in addition to a few of the laughs, the jokes, and the mayhem that follows these races.

Until then, to steal a line from one of my teammates:

I really love my team.

pics here.

Specialized Designs For Women Event: JOIN US!

Please join Punk Rock Cycling at Rassmussens this Tuesday (4/21) and Wednesday (4/22) to check out the new design 4 women bikes and gear! Tuesday we will be there from 6 - 8, and Wednesday all are invited to join us for our Papa Johns ride that leaves Rassy's at 5:30. You can test ride a D4W bike! Please pass along. Hope to see you there.

Bike Rally: Please Come Support Doug Smith

On Saturday morning, April 11, fellow cyclist Doug Smith was recklessly run down by a motorist near Winterset Iowa . Doug suffered serious life threatening injuries and is recovering at Methodist hospital.

The cycling community of Iowa is outraged by incidents like this which unfortunately are occurring on a much more frequent basis. If your life has ever been touched by all the good that comes from riding a bike, we invite you to ride with us on the bike ride of your life!

We are riding to proclaim to fellow Iowans that bicyclists are living breathing human beings, just like your father, mother and sons and daughters, We want everyone to understand that riding a bike on shared public highways is not a privilege but a right that has been supported and endorsed by Iowa law for years.

Join us on this Silent Ride and encourage law enforcement officials across the state to fully enforce the current Iowa motor vehicle code and ask that our state legislatures pass Senate file 117, protecting the rights and safety of cyclists.

Come together, with a single voice, to encourage city and county attorneys to fully investigate bicycle/motor vehicle accidents and to hold those responsible accountable under the full extent of the law.

Please join us on Wednesday April 15 for the bike ride of your life to the Iowa State Capital departing promptly at 5:30 PM from 301 Grand Ave, West Des Moines, IA‎ (Rasmussen's Bike Shop).

Man Down, Road Raging Motorist Flees/Goes Home

***The following was written by my friend/teammate Heather Myer-Davis following a group ride Saturday. She posted it on her Facebook page after returning from the ride/accident/hospital.

Our friend and sponsor, Doug Smith was hit by a truck during this ride. Heather was riding with the group and witnessed this horrible event. Doug is still in ICU at Methodist and is expected to recover, but with a very long, painful journey ahead. Doug is pictured above at a a photoshoot he donated to our team earlier this year.

************************

By Heather Meyer Davis

DOUG

This note isn't going to be flowery or inspirational and there will probably be many typos and it might not make sense.

Here goes, tho.My friend Doug Smith was hit by a truck during our training ride this morning. A group of 8 of us had just left the turnaround point outside of Winterset and were headed back to DM. We were riding in a paceline on the Cumming Rd. We were in a no passing zone and were riding to the right. (The shoulder was gravel.)

Suddenly a driver came up behind us and began laying on his horn. He was driving a large truck and pulling what appeared to be anhydrous tanks. Before we knew what was happening, we were being buzzed by this guy. Then he pulled into us! NOT IN FRONT OF US-INTO US!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Doug got caught by the wheels of the trailer, was thrown up (his bike literally exploding) and was then run over by the rear wheels of the trailer. The driver kept going!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I cannot even begin to describe the horror of this. I truly thought that Doug was dead and even after I knew he was breathing, I feared he would die right there in the road.

Mark Hanrahan was an absolute hero, holding Doug's hand, monitoring his pulse and breathing and, once he regained consciousness, keeping him calm.There was no oncoming traffic so there was no legitimate reason for this driver to have done this.

Some good samaritans (fellow cyclists Shalee and Marc Hobbs) pulled up and, after being told what had happened, chased down the driver. He claimed he didn't know he'd hit anyone.

WTF?!!

You didn't notice the guy flipping in the air and being shot into the middle of the road????
You didn't notice the other cyclists throwing down their bikes and running to him?????

Doug was severely injured. He suffered a skull fracture w/concussion, a severely broken pelvis and other internal injuries. There is no evidence of any brain damage- Thank God he was wearing a helmet. He was still being treated in the ER when we left the hospital around 1:30. He was still suffering from internal bleeding that the doctors hope will stop in the next few hours. If not, he will most likely face surgery.

Doug has no memory of what happened. His concussion/shock are so severe that he has virtually no short-term memory at all right now. He continues to ask what happened to him even after being told over and over again.

Please keep Doug and his family in your thoughts and prayers. This will be a long, painful journey for them.

A Madison Co. Sheriff's Deputy was on the scene of the accident relatively quickly. The driver returned to the scene- after heading home to drop off his tanks and, apparently pick up his son or a friend. The driver was allowed to leave the scene. I believe the Deputy issued some sort of citation but I am unsure at this point.

If you are a cyclist, if you love a cyclist, if you even know a cyclist- PLEASE contact your state legislators and tell them that this bloodshed has to end!!!!

A 5-ft passing rule (if obeyed) would have prevented this. Even if the driver chose not to obey such a law, there would at least be specific penalties. This type of thing is happening far too often and drivers have GOT to be held accountable for their actions.

It feels like it's open season on cyclists in Iowa. I fear that this driver will not be charged. Madison Co. is a rural county and he is a "good ol' boy" farmer who appeared to be in his late 60's/70's.

I'm sure he'll claim it was all just an accident. Guess what, asshole? When you swerve into a group of cyclists, someone's bound to get hurt! And get hurt badly.

God dammit- I'm a wife, stepmom, daughter, sister, friend, Polk Co. homeowner, and tax-paying Iowan. I (and all my friends and even people I DON'T like, for that matter) deserve to be able to enjoy my state from the saddle of my bike without fearing for my life!!!!!! I'm mad as hell.

Racing Season IS Here...And So Is SNOW!?!?

Racing season is upon us folks, and while we've done plenty of bragging about our 70 degree cloudless days, it will surely snow again, and for good measure, why not this weekend....because after all,this is Iowa.

How about this weekend?

That's right, the forecast calls for rain mixed with snow and ice for our big debut Sunday. It will be interesting to see how my bike works on steep descents with no brakes. But those are mere details. I am trying my best to focus on the positive; moreso than freezing my ass off, crashing or finishing DFL. Racing season means spending more time with these lovely ladies, and suffering along side them:

It means earning your post ride beers, in places like this:And most importantly, it means connecting with beautiful people like Gayle (below), more often than the typical once-a-year-at-Ragbrai. If there was ever a woman I met on a bike who is my sister from another mother, it is Gayle. I cannot wait to give her a big 'ole hug this weekend, swap some stories, introduce our children and share a couple beers. Together on bikes we are the perfect combination of "Sag-a-ga-wee-a" and overachiever. We are even more dangerous, however, when we are thinking about biking, but not biking.

Team Outing

The cycling crew got together at Jethro's last night and T came along to meet the team. He was on his best behavior and walked out fairly enamored by my teammates.

His words: "such a nice group of people mom, you should really feel great about that."

Jethro's is my new fave place: comes complete with waiters who make you laugh until you cry, an eclectic mix of clientele, the tastiest ribs ever, mouth watering brisket, damned good cornbread, gooey garlic mashed potatoes, a healthy beer selection, and EVERY SINGLE NCAA GAME televised.

Yes, we are in the Midwest, it is March Madness, and I could not be happier about the gluttony.

I COULD be happier about my child's new food budget (and shoe budget and pants budget, which are posts for other days) which seems to be eating larger and larger portions of my paycheck as T's self-described "growing worm" ravages its way through his quickly-approaching-my-size-body. My kid orders his steaks medium rare, extra sides of sausage and bacon whenever possible, and now this...full racks of ribs.

At least he has taste. Enjoy the weekend. We'll be watching hoops and comparing brackets if you need us.

Tulsa Tales: Malcolm and Tim

When Malcolm and Tim showed up to ride with us, we thought they'd pull out a couple maps, send us in a particular direction, and go on their merry way.

Instead, these two strangers/friends dropped race entries, ditched their families, jobs, and spent three, long, and at times grueling days in the saddle with us. They cheered when we nailed a pace line, didn't seem to mind our bitching, were the first ones off their bikes when we had a mechanical, and especially quick with encouragement and gentle coaching. Their patience in explaining what was to come with each chunk of road was also invaluable, and I would guess, quite unlike riding with a bunch of dudes. They also took us out to dinner, opened their homes, introduced us to some of Tulsa's finest and even hauled us to a few bars.

On that last day our group split into two rides.

I followed the climbers for a hard left, despite all sorts of warning bells going off in my head, ass, and legs begging for a hard right. Within minutes we'd crested our first hill, settled into a false flat and a lively pace line. It was fast and I could barely hold on. Malcolm instructed me to hang in the back and suck up the love. I looked down, my spedometer read 31 mph. I held on. Then a break. I dropped. Pedaled hard up. Caught it. Then fell off the back again, and the rest of the group broke, then scampered up a 1.5 mile climb.

I have never wanted so badly to go all fetal and just die on my bike. I could not feel my hands or feet. My breath seemed to come from the top of my stomach, if you could even call my disgusting wheezes a breath. There was little I could do but drop it into an easier gear and spin. I am amazed, in hindsight that I stayed on my bike. It likely would have required too much effort to clip out. And so it went.

I pedaled.
Slowly.
Up.

I spun helplessly and steadily as the rest of the group scampered to the top, becoming smaller and smaller until I could not see them at all. I knew it was pointless and likely futile to try and catch them, but I also knew I needed to, eventually. My eyes watered over, my legs screamed, and I dry heaved off the side of my bike.

And then I noticed Malcolm. Slowly, drawing back. He waited until I'd caught my breath a bit, slid along beside me, took up my pace (read: damned SLOW) and started chatting. About Ragbrai. Des Moines. My son. His job. He did most of the talking. And then, gradually, when I was ready, he pulled me up that hill, and pushed me onto the back with the others. There were no words, just an occassional look over his shoulder to ensure I was still there. It was seamless. They never heard my heaves. He never said a word.

It is always on the bike that I feel the most vulnerable. It is also always on the bike that I feel strongest.

People like Malcolm and Tim, with whom you can bond in these moments of uncertainty, vulnerability, celebration and complete exhaustion, they make the adventure totally worthwhile.

It is no coincidence that I always seem to find these generous, wonderful souls...pedaling.

Tulsa Tales Con't.

Here we all are as we are boarded and ready to leave our swanky Tulsa digs.

THE RIDE(S):
200 miles.
3 days.
Lots and lots of climbing.
Hurray.

And yes, we are most certainly dressed in matching shirts. Tulsa Tough shirts.

Soon you will learn more.

Tulsa Tough

I've been in Tulsa at bike training camp with the team for three days. I am back and saddle sore but the legs feel amazingly good after pounding out 200 miles and some epic climbs.

There is really nothing better than returning home to a flat car tire, a late night, early morning, but somehow feeling completely undeterred by these small details. It sure helps that the sun is out, the birds are singing and there are buds on my trees. Life is grand, endorphins are cool. Pictures and the low down are forthcoming. Spring has sprung.

I just need to remember my name and heal my arse.

Need A Date? You Could Always Buy One

Go here for bidding, and here for additional details. I am part of this um, package. Consider yourself warned.

One More Cranksgiving Reflection

As I sat at the registration table for Cranksgiving 2008, I was introduced to a bevy of folks, most of which whose names I cannot recall. There are two people however, whom I will not soon forget. Their names are Rick and Paige Gerjets. According to my elder teammates, Paige and her dad Rick have been following the PRC website for some time, and her father Rick is a frequent commenter. Yet neither he nor his 13 year old daughter Paige had never met the team, so for this year’s Cranksgiving, Rick braved the elements and drove Paige all the way to Des Moines from Cedar Rapids.

Paige’s early interest and enthusiasm for cycling pretty much sum up why I am thrilled to be a part of PRC. It is not the training rides, the racing, the parties, the bikes, the uniforms that excite me. It is the idea of spreading like a bad case of the flu, the sport of cycling, in particular to women.

The sort of passion that Paige already clearly exhibits took years and years to cultivate within me. I was at a complete loss for female mentors, and for many years it was largely fear that kept me from jumping in to cycling on a broader scale/level. The idea that this could be completely averted or fast tracked and that….gasp, and then be very, very afraid…that I might even be seen as some sort of mentor for another cyclist is just plain exciting.

I wish that when I was thirteen, that my parents had recognized in my riding (and crashing) that there could be something that could grow from my passion, and if they had, I wish that there could have been a team of like-minded women yelling words of encouragement, and better yet, riding along beside me.

To Rick: You should be commended for recognizing and then encouraging your daughter in her passion. I am sure there were other things you wished to be doing in the midst of that snowstorm, but there you were, with a big ole smile.

To Paige: You go girl, ride on! And I promise you this…we WILL ride together at some point this season. If only I can catch you!

Cranksgiving...and the Bad Monkeys Represent

Bad Monkey's very own Riggs represented at Punk Rock Cycling's second annual Cranksgiving this weekend. He showed up with his Surly, a bottle of beer, and took home the golden crank (OVERALL WINNER!). His speedy efforts and lady luck earned him this fresh pair of Oakleys, a piece of paper good for a tattoo, and a few cold beers. We could not be more proud.

I am fairly certain that next year I'll leave the fancy bike at home and opt instead for a bike with at the very least, cross tires. It was a teensy bit sketchy riding in blinding snow on the Ruby, albeit fun. Keely and I did not wipe out once, despite giving it a pretty good whirl at the bottom of a very large hill, and I am fairly certain next year we will also add a category to the contest, "coolest shades purchased en route." Keely would have taken that hands down this year with her diamond studded frames she selected in approximately 2.5 seconds at some Walgreens on University. As she said, "It was a whole other ride after we went and got those shades!"

We also discovered some new and different treehugger type grocery stores hidden in the enclaves of Des Moines that I never knew existed, one of which allowed me to purchase my very first $6.50 jar of spaghetti sauce...yikes. And none of which seemed to have any salt. Weird.

It was sweet to see so many single speeders and out of towners at this event, given the inclement weather, and it was also fantastic to see the load of yummy food in the back of the Rassy truck as it made its way toward the food bank. Good times.

Bring on the Big Wheel Rally!

What's New...

I'll bet you didn't know you could race bikes and simultaneously carry babies? We wouldn't recommend trying it, unless of course, you're Keri. She's special AND she's gone pro!