We rode with Floyd in the morning.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Davis Phinney Foundation
Hey Team,In the morning we rode with Floyd Landis, George Hincapie, Robin Williams, and many other cycling legends. One of the best experiences in my life.
When we arrived at the Circus club for the Davis Phinney Foundation dinner there was lots to be done. And we did it! We stapled about 400 packets that were the programs we handed out, signed everybody in, made sure people knew where to go and what to do when they got there, helped with the bidding, picked people up from their hotel rooms almost with a Maserati. I was so close to driving a Maserati to pick Dave Towle up from his hotel room but the car was picking up Phil Ligget instead. That's ok. The fact that they even offered to let me drive it already made my day. So after picking up Dave, the guests started to arrive. Many famous people such as Floyd Landis, Bobby Julich, Fabian Cancellara, George Hincapie, Jens Voight, Robin Williams, Paul Sherwin, and Phil Ligget are just some of the big names that were there. It was hard to keep my cool when these people arrived so I couldn't help gathering the team up to get some photos with the guys. Here are some photos of the event.
The Team with Davis Phinney
Sharing a few laughs with Robin Williams
And getting to mingle with the biggest names in cycling. Including Tour of California prologue winner Fabian Cancellara.
We hope that Davis's surgery turns out well and that he recovers soon. It is very sad to see him like this but we were all happy we were there to help with the cause. Thank you to Fred St. Goar, Team Tibco, and anyone else for letting us help out with the dinner.
-Edan
Saturday, February 16, 2008
What's wrong with this picture?
1. Team time trial practice gone wrong...
2. We're missing Rob Anderson...
2. We're missing Rob Anderson...
3. It's sunny...
Aloha from Maui
CR, WW, SC, and BI
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Pineapple Upside Down Cake
This is the Maui version of Cherry Pie, but it doesn’t involve racing... it involves imbibing in the culinary delights and then burning off the calories by riding around in the Hawaiian sunshine.
By the way, congratulations Larry and Dean!!! You guys are amazing.
Haleakala, pictured below, is a 10,023 foot bump in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The best part about this bump is that there is a paved road from sea level to the top. It's 38 miles or about 4 hours of climbing to the top. Anyone can ride down...
Craig Roemer and Rob Anderson saying, "aloha teammates", along Honoapiilani Road, Kahakaloa, Maui. This is by far and away one of the best bicycle rides in the world: minimal traffic, nice roads, plenty of climbing, great views, and clean fresh tropical air.
Right now, airfares to Maui are cheap. Come and join us.
Aloha
CR
By the way, congratulations Larry and Dean!!! You guys are amazing.
Haleakala, pictured below, is a 10,023 foot bump in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The best part about this bump is that there is a paved road from sea level to the top. It's 38 miles or about 4 hours of climbing to the top. Anyone can ride down...
Craig Roemer and Rob Anderson saying, "aloha teammates", along Honoapiilani Road, Kahakaloa, Maui. This is by far and away one of the best bicycle rides in the world: minimal traffic, nice roads, plenty of climbing, great views, and clean fresh tropical air.Right now, airfares to Maui are cheap. Come and join us.Aloha
CR
Monday, February 4, 2008
Hyperglide Suicide: Tour of the Bahamas
From my secret hideout in Florida, launched a quick strike into Bahamas for some warm weather racing. The race flyer said that Team Slipstream would be there, including Zabriskie, Vandevelde, Farrar, Pate, Creed and more. Who could resist a chance to race against that kind of muscle and talent?
Sure enough, there they were before the Stage 1 Time Trial, argyle skinsuits and all. Zabriskie went out and ripped a course record of 5:26 in this 3-mile flat-ish, out and back course.
My little red Specialized Transition got a lot attention from competitors as I rolled up to the start. The timer counted down to zero, and I put myself into a conservative powerband on the outbound leg, not knowing how much I could open up the throttle this early in the season. I hit the turnaround feeling pretty good (although already at 3:15), and gradually ramped the power.
Came back for a final time of 5:51, for 12th place. That made me pretty happy.
The Specialized Transition was flawless. Everything worked just like it should. The SRAM shifters and drivetrain were incredibly precise. I was very happy with my TT equipment.
42-mile circuit race came in the afternoon; 7 laps on a breezy, flat course. The pack rocketed out of the start, and I am pretty sure I saw less than 11 minutes on the clock when we hit the start finish after 6 miles. Then it slowed down, and I launched 4 attacks over the next 2 laps, getting up to 20 seconds on the last one before being reeled in. On lap 4, my chain fell off the big ring onto the BB (?!?!) and I couldn't maneuver it back on, so I had to stop to do it manually. Chase, chase, chase as the pack disappeared. Darn. Race officials put me back in on the next lap, told me to ride at the back of the pack so I could qualify to start the next day. Fortunately this kept me out of the horrendous wreck going into the final sprint.
Lesson 1: Change my chain rings more often? Don't ride a folding bike (Ritchey BreakAway) in a race? Still trying to figure this out.
105-mile road race on Sunday morning. Hot and breezy. Facing a 4-minute penalty for Saturday's missed lap, I went at the gun. Three of us worked like dogs (think sled dogs, not beagles, please) for one 17.5 mile lap, dragging along a Slipstream rider and rolling up a lead of 4 minutes to the field. Then a group of 12 or so, including 2-3 Slipstreams, rolled up to us. Now we're going to get somewhere, right? Maybe not...
That's when the suicide attacks started. Turns out that the Slipstream guys were on defense, and the other breakers would do anything to get rid of them. Attack, slow, attack, slow, on and on. I bridged to too many of the wrong breaks, and when the right one went (a relative concept: they were reeled in later in the race) I was drooling on my bars. The rest of the break sat up, and we went back to the field. Which took a really long time because of the 4-minute lead. Only 70 miles left in the race!
Then the pack noodled. 18 mph, 16 mph. Very nice and easy! Lulled by this, I sat at the back, drinking and recovering. That's when we hit the cross-wind section by the airport.
Slipstream put the hammer down at the front as I was sitting in dead last position. Nothing personal. I was guttered in the head/cross wind, wondering if I could ride faster over in the grass. My eyes were bleeding. Guys were dropping off in front of me, forcing me to bridge again and again. When I could no longer bridge another gap, I fell off the back. I found one other guy willing to work, and we tried to ride back up to the field, hoping they would slow down when the course turned into the headwind, but it didn't work. My race was done.
Lessons 2 and 3: Pro road races with top talent are long and hard; going at the gun makes for good training, but mostly not a winning tactic for non-mutants. This was a training race for me, so that probably wasn't a bad decision. Most important, NEVER sit at the back going into a crosswind section. Even if you are strong enough to hold the next wheel, the guy in front of you won't be. A bridge to nowhere is called a pier.
Generally this is a fun, pretty well organized race with decent talent and nice weather. Opt for the Pro/1/2, since the masters fields are tiny.
Sure enough, there they were before the Stage 1 Time Trial, argyle skinsuits and all. Zabriskie went out and ripped a course record of 5:26 in this 3-mile flat-ish, out and back course.
My little red Specialized Transition got a lot attention from competitors as I rolled up to the start. The timer counted down to zero, and I put myself into a conservative powerband on the outbound leg, not knowing how much I could open up the throttle this early in the season. I hit the turnaround feeling pretty good (although already at 3:15), and gradually ramped the power.
Came back for a final time of 5:51, for 12th place. That made me pretty happy.
The Specialized Transition was flawless. Everything worked just like it should. The SRAM shifters and drivetrain were incredibly precise. I was very happy with my TT equipment.
42-mile circuit race came in the afternoon; 7 laps on a breezy, flat course. The pack rocketed out of the start, and I am pretty sure I saw less than 11 minutes on the clock when we hit the start finish after 6 miles. Then it slowed down, and I launched 4 attacks over the next 2 laps, getting up to 20 seconds on the last one before being reeled in. On lap 4, my chain fell off the big ring onto the BB (?!?!) and I couldn't maneuver it back on, so I had to stop to do it manually. Chase, chase, chase as the pack disappeared. Darn. Race officials put me back in on the next lap, told me to ride at the back of the pack so I could qualify to start the next day. Fortunately this kept me out of the horrendous wreck going into the final sprint.
Lesson 1: Change my chain rings more often? Don't ride a folding bike (Ritchey BreakAway) in a race? Still trying to figure this out.
105-mile road race on Sunday morning. Hot and breezy. Facing a 4-minute penalty for Saturday's missed lap, I went at the gun. Three of us worked like dogs (think sled dogs, not beagles, please) for one 17.5 mile lap, dragging along a Slipstream rider and rolling up a lead of 4 minutes to the field. Then a group of 12 or so, including 2-3 Slipstreams, rolled up to us. Now we're going to get somewhere, right? Maybe not...
That's when the suicide attacks started. Turns out that the Slipstream guys were on defense, and the other breakers would do anything to get rid of them. Attack, slow, attack, slow, on and on. I bridged to too many of the wrong breaks, and when the right one went (a relative concept: they were reeled in later in the race) I was drooling on my bars. The rest of the break sat up, and we went back to the field. Which took a really long time because of the 4-minute lead. Only 70 miles left in the race!
Then the pack noodled. 18 mph, 16 mph. Very nice and easy! Lulled by this, I sat at the back, drinking and recovering. That's when we hit the cross-wind section by the airport.
Slipstream put the hammer down at the front as I was sitting in dead last position. Nothing personal. I was guttered in the head/cross wind, wondering if I could ride faster over in the grass. My eyes were bleeding. Guys were dropping off in front of me, forcing me to bridge again and again. When I could no longer bridge another gap, I fell off the back. I found one other guy willing to work, and we tried to ride back up to the field, hoping they would slow down when the course turned into the headwind, but it didn't work. My race was done.
Lessons 2 and 3: Pro road races with top talent are long and hard; going at the gun makes for good training, but mostly not a winning tactic for non-mutants. This was a training race for me, so that probably wasn't a bad decision. Most important, NEVER sit at the back going into a crosswind section. Even if you are strong enough to hold the next wheel, the guy in front of you won't be. A bridge to nowhere is called a pier.
Generally this is a fun, pretty well organized race with decent talent and nice weather. Opt for the Pro/1/2, since the masters fields are tiny.
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