fellowshipofthechainring.org

Here we go again. First Vinokourov, now Rasmussen is out of the tour. His team dropped him because he lied about where he was training before the tour, which, whether it was stupidity or deviousness on Rasmussen’s account, has the appearance of cheating, and that was all it took for his team to say goodbye.

It has gotten to the point that whenever something unbelievable happens in sport, everyone must wonder how these things are being achieved, and everything now must be questioned. (Alex Trautwig)

Everything now, indeed, should be questioned (man, I hate to say that).

Here we go again! Another sports scandal, and once again in cycling. I was surprised that on the tail of all of the controversy over the past year that anyone would even attempt something like steroids or, in this case, blood doping. I had to watch comments from the Versus commentators on the Tour de France, hoping they would bring perspective. Bob Roll hit the nail on the head if you ask me, and I quote:

I can’t believe someone could be so stupid, and so desperately stupid that they put somebody else’s blood in their system — one of the easiest things to detect, but that’s the kind of pressure that Vino feels he’s under….but to resort to these things as a lot of the big champions in the past have done…we’ve seen it with Basso and Ullrich, and now Vinokourov; it’s unbelievable.

I just can’t imagine; what kind of system you came from that would allow you to do this and incredible risks too. Somebody else’s blood in your system?… I don’t know who thinks this is a good idea any more. (watch the video “Speaking Their Mind”)

Bob spoke my mind when he asked what kind of system do you come from that would allow you to do this. I certainly don’t know the answer to that.

There is a silver lining to this all. The fact that cyclists are not getting away with it, and in light of the cost of getting caught so devastating: public scorn, disqualification from the Tour, an entire team (including, alas, the Fellowship’s Fantasy Team’s best point-garner Kloden) being pulled (Astana must be so ticked).

All the fallout is “tightening the noose” as one of the commentators put it on would-be cheaters. I sincerely hope that most cyclists are not thinking of ways to get around the tests but rather determining to ride “fair and square.”

Bicycling magazine has a 4-week crash course regimen for preparing for a century, called “3 Workouts to Save Your Butt“, and after having ridden today’s 18-miler, I can tell that the training finally seems to be paying off.

The regimen includes 4 rides per week, with 3 of the rides being 1-hour rides, and 1 long ride per week. The long ride (weekend rides) is more to get in saddle time and preparing the body for the beating it will take, and the 3 1-hour rides are mostly standard rides. Mostly…

You see, the bread and butter of the training ride is the weekly, “911″ interval ride. That involves a 10-minute warm-up, 15-minute quad-pounding, 80% maximum heart-rate, lung-bursting power ride, 10-minute recovery, 15-minute muscle-searing, 80% maximum heart-rate, “what-was-I-thinking” ride, followed by a 10-minute cool down.

I never knew how long 15-minutes could be until I tried sustaining my heart rate at 80% of maximum. I also never knew how short 10 minutes could be until I sandwiched 10 minutes between the abuse of those 15-minute stretches.

The article said it would make a difference, but I wasn’t sure until today. I had already been doing the regimen for two weeks now, and I’m beginning week three. Today’s ride was the non-kill-yourself one-hour ride, and I wasn’t sure what kind of shape I was in until after I did a hill (I took 170th from Farmington up to Bany and then rode up Bany to the “something Granada something” park) and then took off down Farmington. My legs just felt great, and I kept extending the length of my ride, until I found myself heading on Rood Bridge Road towards the park.

About three or four times on the last stretch of about 6 miles, whenever I was tempted to let off on the speed, I decided not to let up, but work it more. I used every excuse to push it instead of let up. I purposely took the route on a section that would have some uphill just so I could work my legs some more, and when I finished I felt great!

I just can’t wait to get on the next ride…uh, wait…I mean the ride after the next (my next ride is the 911 ride).

Celebrity Look-Alike Tribute

I would like to add a little “shout out” to today’s celebrity look-alike. It goes to the woman in the car waiting to turn left at Farmington near 189th. She looked just like Janice from “The Muppet Show,” who, incidentally — or possibly purposely — looks a lot like Carly Simon 20 years ago, who also incidentally, looks like Mick Jagger 30 years ago.

Way to go, Janice!

As my quads were still not on speaking terms with me last night from my 40-miler training ride, I watched the first Harry Potter film. Dumbledore’s warning about the third-floor corridor reminded me to warn you all about the mistake I made on the ride I did that day. At the end of Dumbledore’s beginning of the year speech, he said,

And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.”

I will therefore pass on this warning to you:

I must tell you that Laurelwood road from Laurelwood to Bald Peak road is out of bounds to every cyclist who does not wish to die a most painful death.

It’s a bit exaggerated, but just like with Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the movie were able to make it, you too can survive that hill, but once you stop riding up the hill, you will have to walk your bike the rest of the way. I’ve ridden on some steep hills, but I’ve never been on anything like Laurelwood road. You see, according to the Washington County Sheriff’s department, There are a lot of sharp turns on SW Laurelwood and a 17% grade. Yes, you heard it: a 17% grade. And I thought Bald Peak road’s 8% grade was bad enough.

You’re probably thinking the lactic acid got to my brain, and you might be partially right, but in the back of my head, I knew better, but took it anyway. I should probably explain why I would commit myself to such folly.

I think I remember being warned about that hill, by Triguy, but I thought he was exaggerating. The problem stems from the false sense of security that Portland Velo’s map of the westside (rev. 2) gave me. I don’t put any blame on Portland Velo, but I do recommend a change for rev. 3.

If you look at the map’s legend, you’ll see the ‘>>>’ marking denotes a steep climb. Some of the roads that get that marking are Unger Rd, Laurel Rd (not to be confused with Laurelwood), and Mason Hill Road. I don’t know about Unger, but I have ridden down Laurel, and I’ve already climbed Mason Hill road three times. While Mason Hill is totally doable Laurel Rd. is definitely more intimidating. Although I haven’t yet had the nerve to try climbing it, I at least know what I would be in for, and I would climb it if I had to.

So, when I noted that there was no steep marking on Laurelwood Rd, I assumed that even though it probably would be tough, it couldn’t be that bad. My assumption was that if Laurelwood was as bad as Triguy suggested, then Portland Velo would surely mark that road as steep.

Apparently, my assumption was false, and the reality is that the wonderful folks at Portland Velo already know the insanity of attempting that hill, so they figured that marking it as steep would only encourage crazy riders like me to attempt the “wall.”

Anyway, I set out to ride on a new route, so I decided to explore some of the roads I would be riding on the HealthNet MS Bike Ride, especially to ride on Spring Hill Rd. I began — like most of my Washington county rides — by heading out to Rood Bridge Park (to and from Rood Bridge Park makes the perfect warm up and cool down).

I took Rood Bridge to Burkhalter, rode past Oak Knoll Winery, and headed to 219. Let me also warn you not to stay on 219 any longer than you have to. I turned right on 219 and took it to Tongue Ln., but I should have either turned onto Grabel road (just before 219) and taken that to just a few hundred feet south of Tongue, or I could have taken Simpson to Johnson School road (the route that the MS ride usually takes).

219 was nasty. Even though there was a wide shoulder, the traffic was horrendous with many large trucks. There already was a headwind, but every truck coming towards me gave me more work to do.

I turned left on Tongue (I was only too happy to leave the highway). Tongue had only a little shoulder, but it was scenic, and the traffic was much lighter. I turned right onto Golf Course road, which was, low and behold, right at the parking lot of the golf course.

Take a left on Blooming Fern Hill. This was one of the highlights of the ride. There’s a great hill to climb, that is when there isn’t a car that won’t pass you like in my case. Just at the top of the hill, you can see another hill. It looks worse than it is because you get a quick downhill, which gives you enough momentum for half of the next hill.

After that comes the fun part: the downhill. I wasn’t even trying, but before I knew it, I was going 39 mph (and that’s on my mountainbike). Unfortunately, there’s a stop sign at the bottom of the hill. I still hadn’t tightened my rear disk brake, which had been a little loose to accomodate the rack I had for commuting, so as I was careening towards the stop sign, I had to lean back and begin applying the front brakes, just enough to stop, not enough to do an endo.

I turned left onto Fern Hill road, and then turned onto Spring Hill road, and marveled at the beauty. I couldn’t help but admire the scenery as I wound through the valley; however, I kept eyeing the hill to my left and the infamous Bald Peak.

I kept hoping for the best, which still looked bad, but I knew that I might not end up with a forgiving hill. Unfortunately, I kept getting closer to Bald Peak and steep hillsides with no Laurelwood road in sight.

When I finally got to Laurelwood road, I knew that the hill was probably going to be bad, but I held out hope. If the road would just head enough to the south of Laurelwood, the town, then I just might survive. I had some little ups and downs and wound through Laurelwood, the town.

As soon as I got out of the town, I rounded a corner and whabam! There were two nasty and very steep corners. I had no time to think; I had to get into my smallest chainring and fast! Just like the horror movies where the victims are trying to get into their cars and fumble with the keys, my front derrailleur fumbled. Chink-chink-chink-chink. Rattle rattle rattle. It wouldn’t go!

I got around the first corner, and out bounded a doe onto the middle of the roadway — probably to find out what the racket was all about. She stared at me for a moment, wondering what I was thinking trying this hill, and then bounded up off the side of the road. I had no ability to appreciate the fine moment where I met nature face to face in an intimate moment. I didn’t care! I still wasn’t in the granny gear. As I neared the next corner, there appeared a little faun, who also stared at me before leaving the road. Again, I didn’t care.

My lungs were exploding. I was at the lowest cog of my freewheel (the mega-range cog), and as I rounded the next corner and saw that, rather than let up, the road kept going at the same steep grade, and as I was still not in granny gear, but was pulling wheelies as I tried to keep going up the hill, I knew I was either going to fall over on the road, still clipped into my SPD cleats, or I could make a break for a dirt driveway on the left of the road. There were no cars in sight or in hearing, so I made for the driveway.

I let my lungs calm down a bit, and then I tried to ride once more. I made it to the next driveway before I saw that the road was going to continue like this indefinitely. Once I got to the second drive, I tried once more to ride, but I didn’t have enough room to get clipped in and riding. If you’ve tried crazy hills like that, then I don’t need to tell you that once you stop, you probably won’t be riding again until the road lets up, and that’s what happened to me.

As I walked up the rest of the hill, I decided that I wasn’t being a wimp; I was just cross-training (hiking and riding). After all, El Cap will tell you that you aren’t really mountain biking unless you have to walk your bike part of the way. I know; I know; I was road riding, technically speaking, but I think when the road is a 15+% grade, you’re out of the traditional road riding realm and into new territory.

I ended up walking that bike about 3/4 of a mile (I know because I started walking just a little after the sign that read 15 mph for the next 3/4 miles). When I finally got past the worst part, I was able to get back on the bike (it was just a little before meeting up with Bald Peak Road. As I approached the intersection, I looked at Bald Peak road to my right, and shook my head ‘no.’ I wouldn’t be riding to the top of the hill that day. As I looked to the left, there was a woman in a car at the intersection who smiled as if to say, “good choice.”

I turned left at Laurel road (Laurel and Bald Peak become one and the same for a bit), and climbed just a little more (it was more of an incline than a hill). Now came the fun part: the ride down Laurel Road. Laurel road descends for about 1/2 a mile before Bald Peak road breaks off to the left and Laurel drops down the hillside.

Now typically, I ride up Bald Peak and at the lower intersection, I turn left and descend Laurel. On those rides, I don’t have to pedal to break 40 mph down the hill. Well, by the time I approached that intersection, I already had a 39-mph head start. I lost my nerves (probably from coming up Laurelwood), so I slowed my bike down. At some point, I figured I would get myself into more trouble slowing than just making sure I was stable and alert, so I let off the brakes and tried some of El Cap’s tips on descending, and just tucked and kept myself steady. When I did finally look at the computer at the bottom of the hill, I had made it to 44.9 mph as my top speed. I can only imagine what it would have been if I never breaked. Needless to say, it would have been pushing 50.

By now, my quads were jellied and complaining. I didn’t have the heart to tell them they still had 10 miles to go. I also had to continue on Laurel to 219 (Bald Peak Road was closed at the 219 intersection). This added an extra mile or two, which turned out for the best at the end because it got my ride to 40 miles as opposed to 38, which just isn’t the same.

The rest of the ride was uneventful except the company I got from a fellow cyclist who caught up to me on Rood Bridge road. We chatted about this and that. He was the first to inform me that Laurelwood’s grade was so steep. I hadn’t even thought about how bad it was (I was thinking 10-12% grade). I felt better about my “cross-training,” and I made a new friend.

It turns out that his wife has MS, so there’s one more reason why I’m glad I’m preparing for the HealthNet MS Bike Ride. Just don’t tell my quads that I’m planning on riding the century.

Today’s stage 9 wraps up the Alps mountain stages with a win for Columbian rider, Soler Hernandez. He attacked on the mountains and never let up. The good news for our Fantasy team is that Levi Leipheimer got us some points and moved us back up into the sub 2000s place. In fact, Levi is now in number 9 position, which, in my opinion is a great place to be, especially considering the fact that the tour moves out of the mountain stages.

We are now one stage away from being half-way through the tour. As I predicted, the mountains would shake up the tour a bit, and if you’ve been following the yellow jersey, you’ll note that it has changed hands quite few times. Cancellara, who seemed to dominate the yellow jersey in the pre-mountains is now back to 111th place, and Tom Boonen is 124th.

I think Kloden has a good shot, and I’ve been seeing Valverde hanging around the top of the list for some time. Vinokourov is slipping from his crashes earlier on, but I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him. I’ve got my eye on Leipheimer; he’s been slowing working his way up into the top 10, and he’s got a superb team behind him, not to mention the experience that Lance brought the team from 7 tour wins.

Other names recently thrown around have been Contador and Evans, but I haven’t been following their names as much. The thing about the Tour that makes everything so difficult to predict (and much more exciting if you ask me), is that there is so much to the Tour; it’s not just about the fastest sprinters. There are huge mountain passes, many miles of time trialing (an interesting side note is that there are no team time trials in this Tour de France), and there’s no one dominant “shoe-in” like Lance or Ullrich or Basso. In fact, I don’t think that there is any previous winner of the Tour de France competing this year, so the field is wide open. There are many experienced riders, but most have played supporting roles in previous tours.

Tomorrow’s stage heats up as the riders head for the Mediterranean (Marseilles). I’ve been to Nice and Cannes, but I’ve never been to Marseilles. I’m sure it’s beautiful, but it’s also hot, and it’s in the middle of the summer. I don’t envy the riders, but I bet there will be an accident or two because of the effects of heat on the riders. We’ll see…

Now that the tour is on a break today, this is as good as any time to finish my Tour de France explanations (I’m also afraid that I won’t finish this before the Tour is over). Anyway, on to Part Deux: 

You now know about the main colored jerseys; however, yellow, polka-dot, and green aren’t the only colored jerseys worn. There is also the white jersey, and the white numbers on red (combativite), and let us not forget the “red lantern.”

The White Jersey (Maillot Blanche)

This jersey is given to the best rider 25 years or younger. According to the Tour de France 2007 Rules (www.letour.fr), the winner of the white jersey wins 20,000 Euros (that’s about 27,500 US dollars according to the Google calculator).

As of stage 8 (Sunday, 7/15), Linus Gerdemann (of T-Mobile) has the white jersey.

Fighting Spirit Award (Combativité)

This award goes to the rider with the most fighting spirit in him. This award is given at the end of each stage. There are 8 judges (cycling specialists) who decide on the rider with the most fighting spirit. Then, at the end of the entire tour, there is a “super-combativité” award handed out with a cool 20,000 euros to go with it.

The Red Lantern (Lanterne Rouge)

No, the red lantern is not some DC comic or something. The name comes from the light at the end of the caboose, which, as you have already guessed, is red. This “award,” and there’s no euros for this one as far as I can tell, goes to the last rider to successfully complete the race (not get disqualified or injured).

Bicycling Magazine has a great article on the history of the Lanterne Rouge and the writer’s hopes for Zabriskie winning it. The article is a bit tongue in cheek though, but it isn’t that far off, since Zabriskie is now in 171st place out of 172 riders. It’s a distinction that no American has ever won.

The greatest Lanterne Rouge of all time was Jacky Durand, the amazing and entertaining French legend, who over the course of his career launched literally thousands of ill-advised, stupid, insane, overly long doomed breakaways — and ended up winning two national championships, three stages of the Tour, the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Tours on those rare attacks when everything went right. In 1999, Durand pulled off what I think of as the most remarkable feat in cycling: He simultaneously won the Tour de France’s award for Most Aggressive Rider, which paid 100,000 Euro, and the Lanterne Rouge….

The most mysterious Lanterne Rouge, I think, was also the first: Arsene Millocheau, who finished nearly 65 hours behind the winner in the first Tour de France in 1903, then never raced it again. One appearance, one Lanterne Rouge. It’s the stuff of legend and magic.

Well, I’d love to continue, but I have to get up in the morning to do a training ride. I’ll leave you with one more tasty tidbit about the Tour de France:

Lance Armstrong rode over 2200 miles in his last Tour de France (’05), and he averaged over 25 miles per hour over the course of the entire ride. He typically would go through 1 chain a week, and he had his tires cured for many years in a wine cellar before using them on his bike.

Let’s all take a moment while we’re watching the Tour de France to wish the French a happy independence day. It was a little under 220 years ago that those French stormed the Bastille and started the French revolution thereby sowing the seeds of the French Republic.

In my opinion, it’s a little muted since they’re on their 5th republic since then, and let’s not forget that whole Reign of Terror, but then again, they had to deal with Bonaparte a few times, not to mention a few Paris uprisings. We had our Civil War, so I’ll cut them some slack.

Enjoy your independence!

I thought it might help to add some explanations on the Tour de France to help sort out all the colors, jerseys, and peculiarities.

Jersey Colors

The Yellow Jersey (Maillot Jaune)

By now, even most average Joes know what the yellow jersey means because of all the times Lance Armstrong has won that color jersey, and the Armstrong bands don’t hurt either, but in case you didn’t know, it’s the rider with the best overall time throughout the tour, and yes, you can win it without winning any individual stage.

“But we know all about the yellow jersey, what about the other colors, and how many are there?” you ask.

Polka-dot Jersey (King of the Mountains)

Other than the maillot jaune, my favorite jersey is the red polka-dotted jersey, which is given to riders for climbing. In fact, my REI waterbottle is white with red polka-dots, and it has my new favorite algorithm:

Climb, climb, climb,
Drink,
Rest,
Climb, climb, climb,
Drink,
Rest,
Repeat,

Each hill/mountain is ranked in order of difficulty (grade, length, position in the stage), and the first to crest a hill is awarded a number of points based on its rank.

The categorisation of climbs is determined by the race organisers, and is based on the steepness of the climb, the position of the climb on the stage, and to a lesser extent, the quality of the road surface. Generally speaking, a climb needs to have an average gradient of around 4-5% and a vertical elevation of at least 100 metres for a climb to be categorised. A hors categorie (literally meaning ‘out of category’) climb is the most difficult, with an elevation usually 1,500 metres (5,000 feet) or more above sea level – while a category 3 climb is one of the easiest, with an elevation usually in the range of 300-600 metres (1,000-2,000 feet) above sea level.

Green Jersey (Maillot Verte)

The green jersey is for the best sprinters.

Points are awarded each day for position, rather than time, across the finish line.

So riders who finish consistently highest each day build up green jersey points.

It’s not just position each day, but for various points along the rides, where the first person to a “hot spot” gets extra green points. There are more hot spots on the flat stages to encourage more competitiveness.

On the next post, I’ll cover the white jersey, combativite, and the ever-odd, lanterne rouge (red light).

to be continued…

You have to see the footage from today’s stage (watch Boonen Takes Six). There’s a mad dash free-for-all at the end that’s full of suspense. I believe a headwind played a role in the final sprints as various riders vied for position, but Boonen just poured it on.

It’s interesting to watch riders drop out of the front; it’s obvious they’re trying to slow the other riders. So Boonen has the green jersey (for points in sprinting) once again. He’ll probably keep it for awhile now that they’ll be moving to the mountains.

Cancellara still wears yellow, but not for long. Tomorrow, the mountain stages begin. I don’t think we’ll have a real idea as to who’s going to be a contender until a few mountain stages do their work on the riders. I still want Hincapie to win, but I noticed that Gusev, his teammate is just behind Hincapie (Gusev is in 6th place). From what I gathered in the interviews, I believe the team may be working to place Gusev into the lead role. They’re both in great position, but will see how the Alps shake out the lead riders tomorrow.

 

There are only barely over three weeks before the ride formerly known as the MS150. I need to kick training into high gear. The longest ride of the season so far has been 55 miles (Reach the Beach), and that was two months ago! I believe the Fellowship should be out in full force. El Cap is doing high altitude training, I’m working the local hills and doing afternoon heat training, and I don’t know about TriGuy’s riding habits lately, but I know he’s been doing Mazama-type things (climbing glaciated peaks that is). Anowyn, I hope you’ll join us too!

Anowyn formed her own team last year, but hopefully, if she doesn’t have a team, she’ll join us, and if she does have a team, we’ll make them all honorary members, especially if they help us to form a mini-peloton to help get our average speed up.

Anowyn, what say you?

I for one want to do the full 176 miles for two reasons: to do a century (it’s been three years since my last), and because the route on day two rides through Timber (it has an excellent climb and better descent). I’ll check with the others.