Not Quite the Easy Weekend

Photo by Naz Hamid



And just like that, the despondency in my veins from last week has evaporated. Spent Saturday morning working on the thesis, just listening to the rain fall outside. I'd woken up early to go to Metropolis with the crew, with a ride to follow, but precipitation has its ways and we called it off. So, I hung out at home, got some work done and relaxed – no pressure. At noon, I went for an easy ride to Glencoe and just rode to enjoy the ride. I had my PowerTap on, but I stuck a Post-It on top of the display, just so I wouldn't be tempted into gassing it or taking it too easy – I just wanted to ride my bike and take in the sights.

Got home, cleaned-up, and Allison and I went out walking. Wandered around the neighborhood, went to Berger Park (or Cheeseburger Patch) and went to Ethiopian Diamond for dinner. The food sat not at all right with Allison, so we went home and watched Control, a dramatization of Ian Curtis of Joy Division's life.

Sunday, I woke up at 3:55 AM so that I could get to Naz's place where Dave Bowers picked the both of us up for the Hampshire Time Trial that our team, Half Acre Cycling, helped run. As a team, we are required to host an event in order to maintain our USA Cycling certification and the time trial fit the bill. The volunteers I conscripted bailed, which hurt my chances to race, but no matter, what was important that things would go off without a hitch.

After a drive with the sun rising in the rear view mirror, we made it to Hampshire at about 5:45. Dave and I got our bikes off the back of the car and rode around in the lot 'til the organizer showed up. Bob Meinig was already there waiting for us and he let me try out his sweet time trial rig. The air was cool and there was already a strong wind blowing from the west – weather conditions more familiar to early April than mid-July.

The organizer showed up shortly and put us to work – I was tasked with assembling the staging area and platform with Bob, Naz and Dave were to drive around and place signage on the course. Kevin Clark, Helge, Ryan Thormann, and others started arriving and soon enough we had a good crew, all looking at each other for instruction and throwing rocks at anyone who ventured into the nearby cornfield to evacuate their bladders.

By 9, all setup work was done and we were assigned corners to watch and direct traffic. Bob and I rode to our station about four miles away, Corner 3, and set up camp. We were joined shortly by Dan Labovitch and Helge, who supplied us all with orange safety vests and flags – we looked the part of a highway crew, albeit with skinny, shaved legs. Shortly, the first racers came through and our real work had begun – as our station was on a somewhat busy road, we had to stop cars coming in three different directions so that cyclists could come through without stopping. Most drivers were understanding, but a few shouted at us, cussed us out, or just floored the gas as they accelerated past us as we let them go.

The disregard these drivers have for someone who has just stopped them for less than a minute so that a bicycle race could proceed is amazing. Luckily, most people aren't sociopaths behind the wheel, and my faith in humanity was assured by some people who waved and smiled at us as we let them through after a cyclist turned the corner. Thank you, whoever you are.

After a bit, racers started coming back through the course and we waved them through the minefield of gravel (kibble!) that littered the middle of the intersection. One cyclist, buried deep in the pain that is time trialing, missed the corner, overcorrected and endoed over his bike onto the pavement. He got up, but could hardly walk as he'd landed mostly on his butt. Luckily, it seemed that he wasn't badly hurt, but I was dreading the 911 call that I had my phone out to make. His bike, a ~$5,000 Cervelo, had a broken seat post and likely other, less obvious, damage. Helge drove him to the start and made sure he made it to first aid.

By 11, the last of the riders had gone out and we were waiting patiently for them to roll back on in. Saw Ben Popper, Mike Hemme, and a bunch of the Half Acre team really tear it up and eventually we got the word that our services were consummated and that we could come back in to the finish line. Bob and I struggled back in the wind – at 15 MPH, in the crosswind, I could hardly ride straight and I was pushing 280 watts – I couldn't imagine how my numbers would've looked if I were racing.

After breaking everything down, we were free to go. Got back to the city around 3 and after a short, pleasant ride up Clark, I was home, showered and on the couch for a nap.