I hope I'm still the number one ranked Cat 3 in the 11225 zip code. I was really proud of that. I haven't been able to figure out if there are any other cat 3s in my zip code.

@ Marc ---- really tough day for Morgan but an amazing race for American's otherwise:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbm28PPZ5Ts&feature=player_embedded#!

Hey Guys,

At the risk of treading on sacred ground here (moms) I just HAVE to share this tidbit from my trip to Toronto.

We had just settled in at my mom's place and I decided to do a quick once-over on her bike while she was busy cooing over the kids & her daughter in law.

My darling mom had left her rig in the 52x11. Apparently that's just how she rolls. At the ripe old age of 72.

God bless moms.

Animal!

Can you convince her to come along to our Prospect Park leadouts. Could use a big engine at the front.

Posted By: mperlberg@ Marc ---- really tough day for Morgan but an amazing race for American's otherwise:

Yeah, tough day. She should be a force at the Olympics...and there's another Diamond meet coming up in a few weeks, she leads that series.

I'm the best cat.4 in my zip code, out of two! I must be the best French cyclist in the US working as a translator at the UN...
I could not find the list of US masters by age category on the new Webpage, but recently I noticed I was ranked 44th, together with Stetina, which is simply ridiculous. Also a couple years ago I was way ahead of Glen Swann, former world champion in the masters TT forty five to fifty... excuse letters, pb with keyboard... , who had won GMSR... Results in races like GMSR or Tour of the Hilltowns, which attract racers from the whole region, at least for masters, give you a much better perspective, even or because if it's more focused. I've no idea how I would do in California races, where ageing racers are fast, but I know my level in the Northeast as a fifty plus or a fifty five plus. The site recommanded by Marc is great and realistic.

On the topic of kit-redesign, I thought a reverse coloring of this might lead to some cool ideas:

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/photos/breschel-ruled-out-of-world-championships/144418

Alternate orange and blue chest stripes with the majority of the orange here white instead. "Kissena" somewhere above or maybe within one of the stripes, possibly crossing over. You designers will have better effect options. Shoulders and sides could be a bit more "modern" to avoid a Sky/Garmin/Leapord retread of too much retro, but the simplicity is nice.

Anyone know what's happening with tweed blvd right after the turn off from Bradley to 9w? It looks like it's all gravel now due to an oil spill? I haven't been there in a while up until today so maybe this is old

This kid is SOLID. Luka has some competition me thinks

http://www.pinkbike.com/video/147106/

the difference between a road/cx racer as a father and a MTB / trials father...

teh kid is amazing though

This kid must be a eunuch

@ Wojciech, thanks for the heads-up on results craziness:

YOUR ROAD RACE CAT 4 STANDINGS
Rank in your zip code (11205) 1 of 5 (20.00%)
Rank in your state (NY) 4 of 580 (0.69%)
Rank in your riding age (42) 2 of 267 (0.75%)
Rank in 5 year age range (40-44) 4 of 1246 (0.32%)
Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) 7 of 2229 (0.31%)
Overall Rank 9 of 7100 (0.13%)

9 of 7100 when I got time cut at the TOC... I'll take it!

JP's lining up for Cross Vegas again this year. 6th row start, not too shabby.

http://velonews.competitor.com/2011/09/news/start-lists-clif-bar-crossvegas-and-crank-brothers-lady-lucx_192161

for live coverage:

http://www.cxmagazine.com/cyclocross-magazine-presents-live-interactive-coverage-cross-vegas-september-14

GO JP!

Anybody going to this? Been before? Is it "rad"?

http://www.nycvelo.com/cx-season-kickoff-party/

I might be able to make it by 9.

An amazing article from a 1939 issue of the New Yorker:

http://www.smokinjoesbbq.com/pdf/BeefSteakHistory.pdf

An excerpt:

“[Pre-Prohibition stag beefsteaks] were amazing functions,” Mr. Wertheimer said. “The men wore butcher aprons and chef hats. They used the skirt of the apron to wipe the grease off their faces. Napkins were not allowed. The name of the organization that was running the beefsteak would be printed across the bib, and the men took the aprons home for souvenirs. We still wear aprons, but now they’re rented from linen-supply houses. They’re numbered, and you turn them in at the hat-check table when you get you hat and coat. Drunks of course, always refuse to turn theirs in.

“In the old days they didn’t even use tables and chairs. They sat on beer crates and ate off the tops of beer barrels. You’d be surprised how much fun that was. Somehow it made old men feel young again. And they’d drink beer out of cans or growlers. Those beefsteaks were run in halls or the cellars or back rooms of big saloons. There was always sawdust on the floor. Sometimes they had one in a bowling alley. They would cover the alleys with tarpaulin and set the boxes and barrels in the aisles. The men ate with their fingers. They never served potatoes in those days. Too filling. They take up room that rightfully belongs to meat and beer. A lot of those beefsteaks were testimonials. A politician would get elected to something and his friends would throw him a beefsteak. Cops ran a lot of them, too. Like when a cop became a captain or inspector, he got a beefsteak. Theatrical people were always fond of throwing beefsteaks.


Also, many washed their hands during beefsteaks with the beer itself. Just like in Heaven.

kissena beefsteak?

Rider etiquette. So we've all been there. Riding along 9W doing our own thing when some douche-nozzle jumps up on our rear wheel and assumes that we want to drag his ass home. Today I was in the position of being the douche-nozzle. I had just finished a set of hill climb intervals (p.s. River Road is a-okay for riding now), and was toodling along home on 9W. When a Finkraft dude blows by me. I was feeling sort of bored and then rode about 30 feet behind him for a while, but that was boring too, so when he made the light and I didn't it was okay. I waited and he was long gone. As I was remounting I get passed by a dude with a bento box on his bike and I'm like, "okay, enough is enough." I clicked it in the big ring and started riding for real. Bento box dude, in the dust. Still no sign of Finkraft, but I thought I could get him back. And then I saw him, or so I thought. Getting closer and closer. I had been chasing for a few minutes now and the last few miles flew by. But ever conscious of my douche-nozzleness, I started thinking about when to turn off the gas. And as his ass came into focus, so did my answer. The minute I could actually read FINKRAFT on his ass panel, I would stop, knowing I had caught him, without getting up all in his own private Idaho.

@Marc: So right. Time to read Ulysses again.

* * * Any Recommendations for Portland, OR * * * I'm flying out to Portland this morning, I'll be visiting friends who know the riding, food and beer scene well, but --if anyone here would like to recommend must-see attractions and activities in Portland... I'd be grateful!

Feel free to email me: normanswygert@mac.com

Cheers,
Norm

@ Norm - I really enjoyed the rose garden and just riding around on the new light rail system.

Also Norm, you should hulu or youtube or something to allow you to watch a few episodes of "Portlandia."

cacao, marc . . . cacao

Kissena Holiday Party 2011 - Beefsteak format ?

@mike and marc.... Thanks guys. I got a looksee at this year's Oregon Manifest utilty bikes last night, some really wonderful bicycles... The competition winners to be anniunced tonight at Chris King.

Guys,
Just got back from a few days in AZ for work; managed to rent a MTN bike and I my verdict is: "Riding in 105+ Degree weather is less fun than river road repeats in the rain"

Since I was the only Kissena dude in Boston racing, I'll keep my report here in the Sandbox so as to not clutter up the house.

Sunday's TD Bank Mayors Cup Professional Criterium was also the finale for the USA Pro Crit series. As such, a lot of really, really fast guys pinned on 2 of the most enormous numbers you have ever seen. Seriously, I should have found a mast, attached it to my bike and then sailed around the 4 corner .7 mile course. The layout reminded me a bit of the Providence, RI crit, the neighborhood, especially the big-ring climbing stretch leading into turn 4, reminded me of racing in Wall Street a few years back.

135-ish (I'm sure there were a few no-shows, but let me tell you, there were well over the 111 listed as finished or DNF-ed in the results) riders set out blazing the course. My pre-race preparation for the day was less than ideal. I don't care how much Gavi Epstein loves his Chipotle (he loves his sponsor, right?), I will never have a black-bean burrito for lunch before a race. Ever, again. I thought 3 hours would be enough to process all that tex-mex goodness. I was wrong.

And after the call-ups were done the field was off in a flash. I've raced against many of these pros before. But it's been a few years that I've raced all these guys, together, all at once. The Swedes were strong at Mengoni, but not soul crushing. Bissell was remarkably ineffective at Tour de Fairhaven. Mountain Khaki's Bedzek is freakishly successful in crits, but alone, he's just, well, one guy contesting a field sprint up Cat's Paw at 7:45 in the morning. Mark McCormack has more national championship jerseys than I can mention here in a single post, but in smaller races this year I've gone toe-to-toe with the legend and come out not the worse for wear.

But...all those guys, their teammates, in their proper context. Contesting a nationally ranked race for serious cash on the final road racing weekend of the year? Devastating. Brutalizing. Demoralizing.

The whistle blows and we're off. Turn one, we're a bunch. On the 3% decent leading into turn two, the bunch is quickly strung out, then accordions back together again. Out of the saddle sprint back up to speed. Holy crap this hurts. Must move up. Single file on the backside of the course. Wide turn into the big ring climb. Guys are flying by me on the straight-away. Must move up. Dear lord, I have to move up. Hitting the big ring climb, manhole covers, metal plates, road way imperfections leap up and smack me in the face. My bike is bouncing all over place as I'm in full sprint mode again. 135 riders, the leaders are already going through the start finish line. I can hear Frank Andreau and his announcing partner screaming out $300 2-place primes. Christ.

Sarah tells me those early laps were being announced in the 59-second range. The field bunches a bit going back into turn 1, I take an inside line and pass a few guys, but I'm still 100 riders from the front. I need to move up. We're going 32-mph down the hill and everything is double file. Wind blowing in my face. Can't move. Hammer the breaks. 10 mph through the turn. Guys at the front never touched their pads. Back stretch is flat. Single file. 37.5 mph. Are you f-ing kidding me?! Must move up. Another out of the saddle full on sprint up the hill leading into turn 4. Single file through the home stretch. How many sprint efforts do I have in me? 2 all out sprints per lap. No time to recover.

continued...next post:

I'm dying. Please, slow down just a little. Nooooooo! Another prime, this one on the backside of the course (yes, because that's exactly what a .7 mile course needs, two announcers with two fat envelopes full of cash on opposite sides of the course). No one listens to my pleas. Later I hear I'm somewhere between 5 and 11 riders from the back throughout my race. Lungs are burning, my belly is about to explode. I see the pointy end of the field, followed by a thicker section of followers, then it gets progressively narrower from there. I need to get up to the thick belly of beastly peloton.

About 15 minutes in, the pace "slows" somewhat. I catch my breath for a lap (or 60-something seconds) and try every trick in the book to move up. Leaving a little room in front of me as I hit turn two, so I can carry more speed through to the blazing back stretch. Taking a wide line, pedaling through turn 3 into the climb. Taking a hard inside line into turn 1. But the pros at the front are tired of going so slow. The pace picks up again and I'm wondering how I'm ever going to finish. Dig deep, dig deeper Marc. You have to. You can do this.

I'm on the edge and then the inevitable happens. Guys in front of me are blowing sky high. I hammer around Team AXAs Karl Rahn. Noooo!!!! I make it back to the pack. Another 10 to 37mph hour sprint. 28 minutes have passed. More guys blowing. I've got enough to hang onto wheels, but I can't bridge anymore gaps. I'm off the back. I keep the hammer down. I finally take turn 2 at full speed and nearly go straight into the metal barriers and concrete median separating rider from oncoming Boston traffic. My eyes are bleeding lactic acid. I take a break behind the tiniest little junior you've ever seen. He's going too slow, I pull around and point to the right side of the rear wheel (echelon style) and drill it some more. He sits on. Catching other dying riders. Coming through the finish one last time before an official on a BMW motorcycle says:

"You're done!"

Damn. I leave the course, my dog Penny can't contain herself, whimpers and leaps all over me. She thinks I did great. I'm glad she doesn't know any better. In the end, much to my surprise, they gave me 91st place and not a DNF. I'll take it. I guess that's what happens when you ride until you get yanked. I'll blame the burrito.

Wow. Marc great report, sounds like a brutal burtal race.