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11-19-03, 10:49 PM
It's not about the bike, It's all about the guy riding it.... Case in point, well 2 actually.
I do a Saturday morning group ride, about 35 miles, 18-22 mph, no one gets left behind. City limit signs are sprints, and the last couple of miles before we finish always get a little crazy. Its a Saturday social.
We've got about 15 riders who usually show up, a couple tri-guys with their aero bars, and one guy showed up on a mountain bike. He got gapped on all the 'climbs'. (here in coastal Georgia, we don't really have any.) and we had to slow a bit and wait a couple of times for him and an older gentlemen, but never for more than 20 seconds or so.
I dropped back in the group to chat with the guy on the mountain bike, asked him if he had enough water etc. He was grinnnig from ear to ear and sweating like a horse. Said he had pegged his HRM over 185 a couple of times and was starting to sympathize with the slow guys in his unit. Turns out he is a Platoon Leader at the local Army Airfield, and had always ribbed the soldiers in his unit who fell behind on their daily runs. Now he knew what it was like to be at the end of the line.
I suggested he put some more air in the tires next time, and he said he had a road bike arriving the coming wednesday, He's been out with us twice so far on the road bike and having a much more enjoyable saturday. All the running he does got him in enough shape to stay with the group despite being at a serious disadvantage regarding equipment.
I was impressed.
#2
So last Saturday I meet up with the group, as we roll along I chat to everyone I know, introduce my self to those I don't. And I notice a Guy on a lugged steel cyclocross bike, with big knobby tires on it. He's got a rear rack, with what looks like a tent on it, complete with poles, maybe a pump, hell there could have been a stove on there for all I know.
Now I learned a long time ago while racing as a teenager that you always have to watch out for the guys with the older bikes. At the starting line of many a northeastern ohio crit, I would notice kids with brand new shiny clean $3000.00 bikes, all the trimmings etc. But I wouldn't see them on the last couple of laps. It was the guys with the dirty, slightly older bikes, torn shorts from crashing etc.. that had the miles in thier legs to punish me at the end.
And I got to thinking... this guy has a cyclo-cross bike, the only one I've seen in town, he must be pretty serious about his cycling to have one. And he had that smooth effortless quick round pedal stroke.....the sign of veteran.
About 18 miles later, we are about 3 miles from the coffe shop we were stopping at. A group of about 6 or so including the cyclo-cross guy had crossed a 4 lane road while the rest of us got caught behind a little traffic, as we cross and start rolling, My friend John says, 'well if were gonna do this, lets do this....' So we pick the pace up a bit to maybe 23, im feeling pretty good at the front, and as I'm about to pull through again we catch them. John moves over to the right to latch on to the back of the group we just caught, and I decided to launch one.
Its about 2 miles to the coffe shop, and I plan on being the 1st one there. Now I've got 1000 miles for the year, but I only started up again the 1st of August, but I am getting leaner and stronger. I give it pretty much all I've got for about 20 sec. I passed them at around 28mph, and when I sat down I had ramped it up to 36mph. Now I can't hold this pace for long, so I drop down to about 26 but its too late, I've already blown up and gone anerobic, so now all I can do is gut it out and hope for the best.
About 15 seconds later I hear "hey, where is the sprint sign?" It's the dude on the cyclo-cross bike!!!
I manage to say "there isn''t one, I just didnt want to have to wait in line for coffee" without vomiting on him. He says "well, we've got a gap, lets go" and proceeded to wind it up and pull away from me. I don't know what was wierder, watching the luggage rack pull away, or listening to the "zip, zip, zip" of the knobbies fade off into the distance.
He slowed a bit and we got to the coffe shop together, turns out he is the local hammerhead, owns the high end bike shop in town, and is a great guy.
The moral of the story is this........
I did more than make a new friend that day, I got my ass kicked by a little guy riding knobbies packing a tent.
I do a Saturday morning group ride, about 35 miles, 18-22 mph, no one gets left behind. City limit signs are sprints, and the last couple of miles before we finish always get a little crazy. Its a Saturday social.
We've got about 15 riders who usually show up, a couple tri-guys with their aero bars, and one guy showed up on a mountain bike. He got gapped on all the 'climbs'. (here in coastal Georgia, we don't really have any.) and we had to slow a bit and wait a couple of times for him and an older gentlemen, but never for more than 20 seconds or so.
I dropped back in the group to chat with the guy on the mountain bike, asked him if he had enough water etc. He was grinnnig from ear to ear and sweating like a horse. Said he had pegged his HRM over 185 a couple of times and was starting to sympathize with the slow guys in his unit. Turns out he is a Platoon Leader at the local Army Airfield, and had always ribbed the soldiers in his unit who fell behind on their daily runs. Now he knew what it was like to be at the end of the line.
I suggested he put some more air in the tires next time, and he said he had a road bike arriving the coming wednesday, He's been out with us twice so far on the road bike and having a much more enjoyable saturday. All the running he does got him in enough shape to stay with the group despite being at a serious disadvantage regarding equipment.
I was impressed.
#2
So last Saturday I meet up with the group, as we roll along I chat to everyone I know, introduce my self to those I don't. And I notice a Guy on a lugged steel cyclocross bike, with big knobby tires on it. He's got a rear rack, with what looks like a tent on it, complete with poles, maybe a pump, hell there could have been a stove on there for all I know.
Now I learned a long time ago while racing as a teenager that you always have to watch out for the guys with the older bikes. At the starting line of many a northeastern ohio crit, I would notice kids with brand new shiny clean $3000.00 bikes, all the trimmings etc. But I wouldn't see them on the last couple of laps. It was the guys with the dirty, slightly older bikes, torn shorts from crashing etc.. that had the miles in thier legs to punish me at the end.
And I got to thinking... this guy has a cyclo-cross bike, the only one I've seen in town, he must be pretty serious about his cycling to have one. And he had that smooth effortless quick round pedal stroke.....the sign of veteran.
About 18 miles later, we are about 3 miles from the coffe shop we were stopping at. A group of about 6 or so including the cyclo-cross guy had crossed a 4 lane road while the rest of us got caught behind a little traffic, as we cross and start rolling, My friend John says, 'well if were gonna do this, lets do this....' So we pick the pace up a bit to maybe 23, im feeling pretty good at the front, and as I'm about to pull through again we catch them. John moves over to the right to latch on to the back of the group we just caught, and I decided to launch one.
Its about 2 miles to the coffe shop, and I plan on being the 1st one there. Now I've got 1000 miles for the year, but I only started up again the 1st of August, but I am getting leaner and stronger. I give it pretty much all I've got for about 20 sec. I passed them at around 28mph, and when I sat down I had ramped it up to 36mph. Now I can't hold this pace for long, so I drop down to about 26 but its too late, I've already blown up and gone anerobic, so now all I can do is gut it out and hope for the best.
About 15 seconds later I hear "hey, where is the sprint sign?" It's the dude on the cyclo-cross bike!!!
I manage to say "there isn''t one, I just didnt want to have to wait in line for coffee" without vomiting on him. He says "well, we've got a gap, lets go" and proceeded to wind it up and pull away from me. I don't know what was wierder, watching the luggage rack pull away, or listening to the "zip, zip, zip" of the knobbies fade off into the distance.
He slowed a bit and we got to the coffe shop together, turns out he is the local hammerhead, owns the high end bike shop in town, and is a great guy.
The moral of the story is this........
I did more than make a new friend that day, I got my ass kicked by a little guy riding knobbies packing a tent.