Good Day in the UK

I won a race this past weekend. How sick is that?

Now that you've had time to process your shock and excitement at that declaration, I'll level with you: this was not the most prestigious race I've ever won. In fact, I was hesitant to even call it a legitimate race until I saw that British Cycling had awarded me bona fide points for it. Those sweet, sweet points have shot me up the national rankings. Look out, Britain, this Yank means business. I'm gonna claw my way to the top of the heap one chipper crit at a time!

The race was the Stan Jones Paramount Circuit Race #2. (We all know how highly regarded races are that feature a series number. Ugh.) Team Raleigh had no big races on the sched so a whole troop of blue smurfs turned out for this race, meaning we had 7 riders in a field of about 40. I like those odds. The course was a purpose built circuit in an L shape with a 180 turn on each end, the second one being a real screamer. (Sorry I don't have any photos, but just picture your favorite NRC crit and then double the number of spectators.)

There's really not much to say about that race. Our team rode hard out for 60 minutes, but nothing got away, and then my boys rallied at the front to give me a stellar leadout. Despite some interesting timing and poor gear choice on my part I managed to snag the dub and thus crack the seal on 2011. Hopefully it's the first of many and not the most prestigious. They had locker rooms again at this race and they were definitely one of the highlights of the day. Liam rolled a 3rd, and G6 4th which meant we all made back our entry fees + enough skrilla for a cup of coffee. Bonus.
On Sunday I got to roll my first British RR, the Evesham Vale. Again the team laid it down, zwaffling the field and cleaning up the first 4 spots in the race and landing 6 guys in the top 10. There were some strong dudes in the race, but as you may have guessed the field was missing some riders from the other big teams. Whatever. Races like that are a total blast to ride, they're good for the confidence and for team bonding, and so long as we didn't make any lifelong enemies then it's all in good fun.

I've been blitzing all over the country again, playing chicken with tanks, sipping drinks in the officer's mess, scoping Stonehenge and pulling a Rip Van Winkle, but more on that later. Time to strip down to my skivvies and go sprint in the sunshine. Booyah!

The Promised Land

I finally got to smash up a cobbled pro race in Belgium, and it was everything I hoped it would be. Sure, I only have this single race to judge from, but as far as I can tell if you take all factors into account Belgian pro racing has got to be the sweetest bike racing in the world. Certainly the sweetest I've ever done.

Belgium is the world center of cycling. Okay, that's a big claim, but look at the facts: it has coolest races on the calendar - the cobbled classics (sorry TdF, thems the facts), the fans are the purest, and it produced Eddy Merckx. I can't speak for every American cyclist out there, but when I think about true feats of heroism on the bike it's always images of hardmen smashing hundreds of miles over cobbles in the rain that come to mind. I never really thought I'd get the chance to be doing the smashing myself, and I got chills just crossing the border into Belgium.

Belgian kids waving at the team car.

At the team meeting the night before the race we got a handout to study detailing all the sectors of pave (cobbles) on the course. That was the first time I've ever gotten one, and for some reason I thought it was very, very cool. I went to sleep studying the thing and thinking about the race, which means it took me a long time to drift off. I must have been keyed up, too, because I woke myself up with nightmares, which NEVER happens to me.

Raceday: Boom! We rolled out to the sign-in/start really stinkin' early, but it turns out it's a good thing we did. Remember when I said Belgian cycling fans are pure? I meant it. I don't mean they're blind fanatics like the tifosi or the Basques, they don't dress up in sumo suits and banana hammocks like the Americans and they won't spit on you like the French (ahhh, stereotyping!). They just really, really love and respect cycling. That was especially apparent when, three full hours before the race, fans were already gathering to look on, snap photos and get autographs. And not just from the big names. Guys were there with binders filled with pages and pages listing every racer, sometimes with a photo, and they wanted to get an autograph for each one. One person had big, high-quality prints of everyone on photo paper that he wanted signed. Wherever I went people would ask me to stop and pose for photos, and there were tons of guys snapping away as we signed on.Sign on, and some French, which I think says we're strange...

There were also kleedklamers, aka: locker rooms. How sweet is that!!! America really needs to jump on the bandwagon here. Instead of changing in a soggy field behind a car door and spending too much time in an overworked porta potty, we got to pin numbers and get kitted up in the comfort of a locker room just for our team. Like real athletes!!! (There were also kleedkamers at the finish so a guy doesn't have to ride 6 hours home in their own stink.)Kleedkamers. I opted for this shot over the one of Jonsey massaging his brain.

But how was the race itself, you ask? Amazing. First off, I got to bust out some Russian on the Katusha guys on the start line. See, dad, that four years at Stanford is really paying off! Right from the gun I felt pretty good, and I can best describe things in terms of how different they were from Holland. In Holland I was on the back foot immediately. I was timid, moving through the pack seemed impossible, and all I wanted was to finish. In Belgium I felt like I owned the road, gaps seemed to open for me as I flowed through the peloton, and I was wondering how I was going to win. I have to thank my coach, Jesse, for a well-timed and well-written email that really got me focused and pumped. I got to the front in about 5 minutes instead of 50, like in Holland, and when I did I already saw teammates throwing down attacks.

The roads were wider in Belgium, and there weren't devastating winds to shatter the field, which made things a lot easier. There were, however, cobbles. For those of you who have never ridden real cobbles, imagine cranking away in hard out race when all of a sudden your bars and front fork are replaced with a jackhammer. You get shaken so badly that your eyes are bouncing around in your skull. You can't accelerate; the best you can do is try to hang on to the speed you've already got.

The course had 3 laps of about 24k and then nine 12k finishing circuits. During the first lap no breaks were getting more than a few seconds. So, during a lull I positioned myself at the front and then attacked with everything I had into a stretch of cobbles. I'm not exaggerating when I say that attacking the shit out of a pro race over Belgian cobbles has to be one of the best sensations I've ever had on a bicycle. It felt amazing. And not only did it feel great, it worked! I got a pretty good gap and when three riders managed to drag themselves across we were clear of the field and started rolling.

Van Dijk was second on the day, and second again on Wednesday to Geert Steegmans at Nokere Koerse. #TPR,².

It was no joke break either. Topsport-Vlaanderen and Willem's Accent are two of the three Belgian Pro Conti teams and An Post (riding for Niki Ekhout) are no slouches. The gap went out to 1'30" and I thought that this would be the move of the day, but we didn't fully commit, and after a short lull back in the field things apparently went ballistic again and the gap started to fall. 45". 24" And then, looking back, we could see the field. The other (more experienced) riders knew the jig was up, but I threw in a little desperation attack, hoping that I might get swept up in the counter, but I ended up just wasting energy.

The rest of the race is a sad story. I had magic legs and was really feeling great in the bunch. No move was going to stick and I was getting really amped to try my luck in the field sprint. But alas, it was not to be. With 7 laps to go I smashed into a massive crater and pinch-flatted at possibly the worst time. We were heading into the feedzone, so my raised hand/cry for help was misinterpreted as a request for a feed and the commissar didn't call my team car up. I rolled all the way to our van, but they weren't prepared for a wheel change, and by the time I got pushed back in the only car behind me was the official end of the caravan. And that was the end of my day. Here's some footage of my demise:

Kipo was feeling supreme and the guys were working for him in the sprint, but he went down with 2 to go. Cronshaw didn't get slotted in at the right position but stuck it out for 24th. Matt Gee "6" had the toughest day of all. For his Belgian debut he flatted at 3k and 50k, and when he finally made it back the the group he got sent back for bottles. He was making his way back up with his jersey stuffed to bursting with bottles when he got his third flat. Ouch. He probably thinks I'm a pansy.

I'll make an effort to write shorter posts more often instead of these epics. But I can't not write about this race. It's been a secret dream to do races just like this since I was a Cat5, and it was so friggin cool to not only be riding the race, but to be a factor in it and feel like I belonged. I really believe that I'm meant for this kind of racing an I hope I get more opportunities to prove it.

Also, we went through the Eurotunnel. And compared to the ferry it did feel like we were traveling at light speed.

Soens and So Forth

Saturday was the official kickoff of the British cycling season, the Eddie Soens Memorial Race. British Cycling did a pretty damn good job of covering the race and they have a solid report complete with video on their website. If you want the official version head there. But since you're reading this I have a sneaking suspicion you might want my opinion on the days happenings. So here you go. (Also, there are some really good photos here.)

Here's Pete getting the rigs race ready. Hmmm... alliteration!The race was crazy. That seems to be a common theme with racing in Europe so far. But while the Zwolle was crazy because people were fast and the roads were narrow and challenging, the Soens was crazy because we raced with women and juniors on a wide open course with no real turns or selective features. To hijack a quote from Forest Gump, European bike racing is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're gonna get, but it's probably going to be nutty.

The race takes place on the closed circuit pictured above. This could be a pretty interesting course if it was about 800 meters long, but each lap is 1.66 miles of wide open roads. This, combined with a lack of elevation change, wind or inclement weather made this about the least selective course I've ever ridden. We were rolling around at almost 30mph and you could pretty much coast in the pack.

To spice things up and give everyone an equal shot at glory they run this race as a handicap. They break all starters into 3 groups with women, juniors and lower categories in the first group, then middle category riders, then 1,2 and Elite riders. They started group one, then group 2 after 30 seconds, then us at a 1:30. Last year the juniors caught the third group by slaying it for the first few laps and as a result the fastest riders were sprinting for 30th. Not this year.

The Raleigh boys jumped on the front from the gun and didn't stop rolling until we'd swept up all the groups on the road. This made for a very exciting 150 man, nay, person group swerving around an open track like so many drunk drivers who've tried to compensate for their inebriation by drinking a whole pot of coffee. Twitchy and reckless is a hell of a combination. I mean, picture taking your local crit and running all the categories together and that's the Soens.
Despite the supremely negative conditions our guys did everything they could to snap off a break. I saw absolutely every one of our guys rip off at least one attack and most people were out there hitting it time after time after lung-busting time. We rolled that shit for 25 laps until a move finally went. It's a testament to the strength of the team that we could make a move stick on a course with those conditions.

And stick a move we did. Cronshaw and Liam managed to finally get a gap with 8 other guys. We dropped the ball by letting a lone chaser get away, and then Kippo showed his killer instinct and hopped right on the Tennant train for a free ride across. 3 out of 11. Not bad. As it got down to the closing laps Cronshaw knew the time was ripe for a glory gamble and lit out solo in search of the line.

Alas, tragedy befell him. He got swallowed up by the break less than 50 meters from the line. Kippo had the balls to throw down a nasty sprint and snagged a very respectable podium spot.
And what of your humble narrator? I mixed it up with a tad bit of attacking and then tried to rally a little sprint, but there's not much glory in sprinting for 12th place, and even less in getting crashed out while doing it. I pulled up early and called it a day.

But there is a silver lining. Even though I only rolled in for 18th place, it was actually quite an impressive result. You see, Magnus Backstedt has come out of retirement and he was racing the Eddie Soens. And I beat him. Now, if you know anything about math or logic then you've probably heard of transitivity. It usually runs something like this: if a > b and b > c then a > c. Now let me introduce to you the Transitive Property of Race Results (TPR²): If Magnus > Paris-Roubaix and Ryan Parnes > Magnus then Ryan Parnes > Paris-Roubaix. AMAZING!! It turns out the Eddie Soens was one of the most pivotal races of my young career. However a true fan would quickly point out the fact that I showed promise of being one of Transitive Cycling's true greats as far back as the TT of the 2009 Nature Valley Grand Prix. It was in that opening time trial that I virtually won cycling's most prestigious race, the Tour de France. Floyd Landis > Le Tour and Ryan Parnes > Floyd Landis. Therefore Ryan Parnes > Le Tour. It's even more impressive because I'm clean!

Team Raleigh did two more races on Sunday with great success and I urge you to keep up with the team on facebook and to check out the pretty slick, if not always grammatically correct, website. Okay, I just can't keep it in. Rickety Cricket won the race at Pimbo and Jonesy nabbed another podium at the Severn Bridge RR. These guys are on fire!

Zwaffled by the Zwolle

My first European UCI race is in the books. I managed to nab the title of highest American finisher, but unfortunately that was only good enough for 89th overall. I've been meaning to do a write-up about this race for a while, but the experience was so taxing that even thinking about it makes me tired and puts an ache in my legs. Instead of going through the race blow by blow (which most of you would hate anyway) I've decided to present you with the inside scoop from our embedded reporter, Mr. Jeroen Janssen, aka JJ, the Flying Dutchman. I've added my own comments in bold. Enjoy!

‘Omloop het Nieuwsblad’, or ‘Het Volk’ is the classic Belgium season opener for the big pro’s, whereas the equivalent Dutch opener is the ‘Ster van Zwolle’ a brutal race for any rider. I’ve ridden for several Dutch teams and this is the race where you work towards all winter and you want to be selected for. Your team manager keeps telling you in the early season training rides that this is the first goal of the season. Endless echelon training rides should pay off here. 172 kilometers and every manager tells his riders that it is crucial to ride in the first twenty of the bunch. A change of direction and the wind can come from the side, which means you’re either in the first echelon or hanging on for grim death in the gutter. Positioning is everything. Not surprising the first 20k of the race can be a bit stressful, with almost 200 riders wanting to be on the first row.

With all of this in the back of my head, I felt pretty nervous before the start. Comments from friends who have done the race many times didn’t really help either: ‘just be in the first twenty of the bunch all race and you’ll be fine, just watch out for crashes as everyone is trying to get to the front’. Right…. Fortunately I was the only one who had done the race before and with riders and staff not knowing what to expect, there was less pressure coming from the team. Just the pressure from everyone who looked at the Dutchman with the famous Raleigh name on his jersey…

The weather at the start was typically spring classic weather: lovely wind, cold and a bit of rain. (I was absolutely freezing! I had on twice as many layers as everyone else and I was still shaking uncontrollably.)The pressure disappeared straight from the word go, the focus on getting to the front took up all the energy (most of which went to the use of the elbows). (Contrary to JJ's claims the pressure did not disappear. It increased about 100 fold. The "neutral" section was about as neutral as Germany in 1939. It was a 200 rider battle royal; elbow anyone near you, shoot a too-small gap, lock up both wheels, sprint, repeat.) Seven of our eight riders managed to stay out of trouble, unfortunately Phil got stuck behind a crash early on and never got back in contact with the peloton. The rest of us kept fighting and after several splits and regroups, we were all in the main bunch. At this point there was a group of seven up the road. Not wanting to ride this race anonymously, we got organised and brought the gap back from 2 minutes to 10 seconds. (Prior to this Jamie had seen the break rolling off and full tilt past 150 riders IN THE DIRT to get to the front and then threw down a massive solo chase. It was like watching the love-child of Eddy Merckx and Sven Nys get freaky.) This cost a lot of energy though and after another switch into a side wind, the teams with riders in the break took over and organised themselves too so that we wouldn’t catch the break.

The nervousness started again; it was not long until we would come into another crucial point where the race would definitely split for good. (Prior to this is was so exhausted I was so exhausted from the chase that I almost dropped out. It was so chaotic and flat out for the first hour and a half that I hadn't eaten or drunk anything, which probably didn't help.) I was placed well enough, but lacking some interval and race hardness, I couldn’t hold on and had to let the front group go. Matt Cronshaw however managed to place himself really well and got in the front split with mainly riders from the Rabobank Continental and Jo Piels teams. Dan Fleeman was one of the few who got across a bit later on, a remarkable effort. The rest of us were behind in different groups on the road, which all came back together towards the closing stages of the race. (Dan and Matt tried to get organised to get Matt up there in the sprint for 6th but ran out of energy and luck and rolled across the line in the first major group, a very good result.

The rest of us crossed the line about 5 minutes later in the second big group, worn out from the wind, the fighting and the hard racing. (Worn out is an understatement. The last ten miles seemed to take as long as the rest of the race combined.) Only just over half of the starters finished, so with 7 out of 8 of Team Raleigh crossing the finishing line we can be satisfied. Racing in echelons on dykes all day is not something we do often, the Dutch riders are specialists at this, but for the team to finish a good hard day of racing in the cold and wind meant the morale is still sky high, we all learned a lot and are very confident for the next races! Bring on Eddie Soens!

That was, hands down, the craziest damn race I've ever done. You needed laser focus the entire time, because you never knew when the next curveball was coming. CRASH-slam on the brakes and swerve around it! ROAD FURNITURE-find a gap in 200 riders on a bikepath sized road and squeeze into it in half a second! TURN-cut the corner through the dirt and grass to make up a few spots! You can't lose focus for even a second or your day could be over. That meant that while the race was indeed one of the most physically challenging of my life, it was far and away the most mentally taxing. It was like riding a technical crit, except that instead of seeing every turn 60 times you never knew what was around the bend. Loco!

Here's a link to a bit of video form the race. Most of the footage comes from pretty late, so you don't get a true sense of the chaos.
1:22 Group of us at about 100mi into the race. I'm the only guy in blue leg warmers, and you can see JJ, Jamie, Cricket and Jonesy as well.
3:52 A good look at echelons.
4:00 Fleeman slamming back to the front group, followed shortly by the rest of us. We never did close that 12 second gap, but Flee-digity rode all the way to the front group!

Here's another sick vid which actually shows JSparls playing one-man wrecking crew on the front of the race at 1:22. The rest of us are tucked back in the top 30 and I'm overheating in my blue leg warmers.

If any of you guys are really hardcore cycling fans you can head over to cyclingtorrents.nl and download some legit race coverage from the 2011 Ster van Zwolle.

The only thing harder than the race was the drive home. After cold (and I mean freezing, f%$&ing cold!) shower in the locker rooms and enough Dutch dick sightings to last me a lifetime (turns out the baby bald look is quite fashionable) we got into the cars and drove back to England. That's right, we raced the hardest race in most of our lives and then got straight into a car for a 3.5 hour drive + 2 hour ferry + 4 hour drive. I just don't even have words to describe the agony... so I'll just paint a picture:

That ferry(sp?) shot pretty much sums it up.

Never fear! After a bit of a two day driving hangover we were all chipper as chipmunks and back on the bike slamming around getting fired up for our first British race of the year, the Eddie Soens. Finally, a race where people will understand when I'm swearing at them!

Before I sign off I have to give props to my boy Matt Kippling. He had the honor last weekend of taking the first race win of 2011 for Team Raleigh, and he did it in style.

I'm pretty sure he managed such dominant sprint because his legs were unencumbered by silly, sissy leg warmers. But, believe it or not, that's only the second best photo recently taken of Kippo. Here's number one:

That's right, folks. On top of being a sleek, race winning machine Kippo is also an accomplished ballroom dancer. I'm not entirely sure he's isn't British Secret Service. All I know is that if I were you I'd hide my daughters.

I actually know one other bike racer-cum-ballroom dancer, and I'd hide my daughters from him too, but for entirely different reasons. Oh! You don't believe me? Scoot on over to the Viennese Ball website from 2005 and search for Rand Miller. Also, scope this video evidence. Good money says that it is the one and only Rickets posted up in the foreground just 30 seconds into that video. Rand, if you're reading this, we want pictures.

That's if for now. See you all after the Soens.