As the crank turns… tales of life on the rims

Sherman Park 2011 – We’re aren’t right in our heads.

I have kind of been avoiding writing this report.  Reading it you’re either going to be hanging on the edge of your seat as it pulls you in like a Hollywood thriller or you’re going t click away because you hate horror movies.

I know you’re probably thinking, “Really?  Really that bad Rob?  Come on.”  Normally I would say that you are justified in questioning my conviction regarding the extraordinary nature of the race.  I do have the tendency to spin a yarn to pass the time and attempt to entertain those around me.  Unfortunately this time it’s too real.

I have written about Sherman before: http://www.psimet.com/blog/2009/06/racing/sherman-i-heard-he-destroyed-a-bunch-of-stuff/ with some of the same take-ways.

I know little to nothing about the real history of this race, but according to what Randy Warren said before the race started the park was originally designed for bike racing back when it was big and Chicago was the place.  It’s basically a mile long oval.  Nothing technical.  No turns.  Tons of bad pavement.  Perfect for a bang-up crit – my style of race.  That’s what keeps drawing me back to it.  It’s a Chicago style race where the win goes not to the skinny guy but to the regular Chicago working man or woman.  It’s a race where teams can make a difference and size counts.

I had pre-reg’d for both the cat 4 and the 30+ 4/5.  Life being what it has been lately I woke up late and figured I would miss the first race.  Then I found a way to get there about 15 minutes before the official start of my race.  I ran to reg and while they had already sent in the starting list I still scored a number.  Now I just had to get dressed….forget about a warmup.

Same-ol group.  Looked to be fun.  This is the first time I had been to Sherman when it wasn’t raining.  After feeling better than expected at Blackhawk I was kind of interested to see what the legs could do.  I lined up second row and found myself in the front 10 riders right from the gun.

It became pretty apparent from the start that this was going to be everything it has the reputation of being.  There was enough of a wind that while no one was making deals to get off the front they weren’t exactly working over the pack either.  Non-technical crit.  Wind.  Slow pace….bad pavement…yup. You know what’s coming.

I heard the wreck(s) early on but they were behind me.  I have developed this talent to float about where everyone always tries to tell others they should be.  Lew Chin was busting my bells about it after the race and I lost track of how many rider said, “dude…you were up there the whole time – how do you do it.” – answer:  I don’t know.  When you’ve spent your life being a mediocre bike racer who is always too fat and always under trained you find your survival depends on surfing wheels.  You learn quickly how to pick up the tells of when the wheel you’re surfing is going to pop and go backwards.  Mainly because you can’t afford to expend the energy to come back up to the front if they do pop.

All in all the race was fun.  Some of us older guys kept the chatter going.  The kids can’t seem to concentrate on not falling over if they also have to listen.  They’re just not comfortable.  That’s dangerous.  …

An aside:  If you’re going to race cat4 in crits in Chicago then you just have to be comfortable.  If not it’s going to drive you nuts.  There are going to be wrecks.  You have to go into a race assuming that you are probably going to go down.  You’re going to be touched.  Someone will touch wheels with you, bars, shoulders, touch your hip, push you out of the way, etc.  It’s going to happen.  None of these things should EVER be a problem, and yet they continue to be for a couple of reasons – one of the riders freaks.  If you yell when someone leans on you – then get out of racing.  You’re the kind of person that will cause a wreck.  The leaning will never go away so it’s now up to you to learn how to deal with it.

Sorry – now – back to the race.  Jared from xXx was barking out orders to their guys.  Most of you know that this is xXx’s race and they turn out the lower ranks in numbers that would destroy everyone if you could just win races based on how many people you brought. Tri-Chi’s evil empire had the rope-a-dope going the whole time – send a guy up the road, block, counter, repeat.

They definitely had control on the front (which was nice letting them chase and pace everything…this race always comes to a sprint.  If you’re not wearing Red Black and White and you attempt to go off the front they’re going to chase you down like a pack of rabid dogs and they have so many fresh faces that they can do it all day long.).  Some strong riders were still there:  Bill Barnes, Dave Hudson, and now Jared Rogers – all in the mix ready to pounce.

Jared was barking orders so much that Bryan Fuller (Bicycle Heaven) finally had enough and yelled at Jared “OK WE GET IT NOW SHUT THE F UP!”  It would have sounded mean coming from anyone else but knowing it was probably Bryan I couldn’t help but laugh.

Well Jared had been calling out laps.  I thought I was paying attention.  I thought that was matching up with what I believed we had left.  So as the pace picked up I wasn’t surprised, but when it really started going I was shocked.  I was thinking, “How in the heck are these guys going to keep this up for a whole nother lap??”  Then I noticed no bell and the lap card was blank.  I looked up to see the guys on front finish.  Ooops.  Rookie mistake.  Not saying I could have really cranked something off, but I had enough juice to actually put in a sprint and it would have been nice to try and to get the numbers.

McCoy from Bicycle Heaven I guess took a face plant and really chunked off a section of his lip.  I heard it was bad. The course was closed for a while as they got him out of there.  From there it seemed like every race was cursed.  The cat 5 race ended in someone tearing open their knee to the bone.

In between races I was getting that butterfly feeling.  That spidey sense tingle that something bad was afoot.  Can’t really describe it but was even talking to Lew Chin about it.

The next race was the 30+4/5.  I love this category in general but it has the tendency to be gritty at the beginning of the year.  This is where I promised Shawn Delk I would provide my theory for why this race tends to be dangerous.  xXx has a lot of racers ad they truly dominate the lower categories in terms of sheer meat.  This being the first big race that they put on, it’s a non-technical course with no turns,  and the fact that it is located in the city seems to draw out a TON of their new recruits with little to no real race experience, and/or some of their veterans who only race a couple of times a year.  Not fair to single out xXx, but those same reasons work just as well for most of the other large city based clubs.

Now – I am not saying this is a bad thing.  I love what it can do for the sport and I can’t say enough about what xXx has done for the sport locally.  This is not a criticism rather it is a statement about the factors that I believe lead to this particular race’s pack skill.

This race too was off like a shot and I once again found myself in the same position.  I guess there was a massive pileup on the second lap that took out Arron Hampton and I believe that is the one where Ryan Handley (both of PSIMET) separated his shoulder.  We were edgy and we were punchy.  The first race was too slow and it looked like this one was going to make people dig more.  A couple of the early laps saw us even stringing single file across the start finish.  This is a good thin as it helps shed those who can’t hang from the pack.  The bad part is that newer racers have no idea what those accelerations just did to their bodies.

They find themselves sitting in and thinking that they are OK.  They don’t realize that they are actually on the limit and that the excitement and adrenaline are masking the pain.  This goes away in longer races but in the first 15 minutes – everyone is a super hero.  So they sit there and they are trying to think.  What they should be thinking about is breathing and staying upright, but they seem to start thinking about position.  Result – riders out of position and seeing red/pinwheeling (to use one of Enzo’s phrases) ready to make bad decisions as they fight to grab wheels for mere survival.  At. All. Costs.

We weren’t that far in to the race – maybe 10 minutes or so when it happened.  I was about 10-15 wheels back when you heard it.  Two guys touching up front.  They were about 3^rd wheel.  They got too close to each other.  Touched…learned into each other but made the rookie mistake of leaning away and turning their bars instead of leaning into it.

You could hear the cleat dragging first then the sounds of metal as the tires skidded and let the rims touch the ground.  It was a yellowish/gold jersey.  Spidermonkey or Iron Cycles would be my guess but as we saw last time I can be very wrong about these things.  The guy hit the deck and went pinwheeling back through us.  I thought I was down, but made it around him – you know what’s next – you have to nail it.  Guns a blazing as you hear others go down behind you like someone had just bowled a strike and the bicycle-pins were rattling off the lane.

Drive hard then recover – sit up a bit.  Everyone here?  Am I hurt?  Bike OK?  Who did it take out?  We still have riders?  Everyone is getting amped.  Just be cool guys.  The yelling is incessant at this point.  Everyone is yelling aggressively at everyone else to just chill the f out.  Jumpy.

Then two guys cross wheels.  They saved it but EVERYONE reacted.  It was oil and water as the sound waves themselves seemed to drive riders for the margins of the roadway away from the new action.  Over reactions caused another guy to go down – all alone.

“AwwwSHI-“ bike start cartwheeling. Bury the needle, bury the needle, gogogogogogogogogogogo!

The next 15 minutes or so seemed to be punctuated with wreck after wreck.  Guys were hitting the deck with so much frequency I quickly realized that if I could stay upright I’d probably have one of my best finishes of the season.  At one point a tubular popped.  It was starting to think I was going to have nightmares about this race.

Luckily as we approached the end of the race we were starting to really tear it up.  The more that happened the faster we seemed to be driven on almost as if we slowed down the bad stuff might get us.  Coming around on the last lap I noticed Rich Lenski, John Low (PSIMET) and Bryan Fuller all in a line on the left side.  Bryan was practically coming out of his skin yelling at Lenski to go.  Almost like a movie where a bomb has gone off next to someone and they are swimming around in their head only half hearing what people are yelling at them – I finally registered what was going on.  He was right.  It was time to go.  “GGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LENSKI!!!”

The only good thing about that race was Bryan winning and John and Rich coming in 4^th and 5^th.  I think I even ended up 16^th or so after my powerful seated sprint – similar to a cheese laden bowel movement, or so I’ve heard.

Afterwards everyone I talked to was in agreement – that was the most dangerous crit I had ever raced.  I’ll spare everyone the details of after the fact – Jesse Young got his bike stolen from his car after someone threw a brick through his window.  Tim Radcliff had his stolen as he adjusted a cleat. My son cut himself on glass on the playground and the badness just kept creeping in on the day.

I don’t want to say I won’t ever go back.  The draw of a physical crit on an oval just calls to me, but I will think it over a lot.

Best news came later that day as Tim Speciale (PSIMET Elite) won the cat 3 race and we (PSIMET Elite and Enzo’s-PSIMET as well as Rhythm Racing – a PSIMET sponsored team) filled a lot of places high up in that race.  A roller coaster day for sure.  That’s racing.

…crazy now that I am looking forward to Leland as a way to settle down.