VeloNews.com» Chris Case

A Case for Suffering: Climbing the inclined plane

Chris Case — Fri, 10 May 2013 12:37:45 +0000

The second-to-last climb on this year's Fearsome Five route was the dreaded Magnolia Road climb, which kicks up to nearly 19 percent in the first mile. After nearly 80 miles and 12,000 feet of climbing, "Steep Mountain Road" took on new meaning. | Photo: Brad Kaminski/VeloNews.com

In January 1910, only months from the start of the Tour de France, Alphones Steinès, the course designer under the leadership of organizer Henri Desgrange, set off to find some high mountain passes to add new flavor to the Tour route. It was an idea he had pestered Desgrange with for years; whereas Desgrange was afraid the racers would be incapable of riding over high passes in inhumane conditions making the Tour a farce, Steinès felt that placing such magnificent obstacles in the way of these men would allow them to demonstrate an unfathomable ability to ascend and, in so doing, grow the public’s adulation for their athleticism, will, and determination.

Steinès headed for the Pyrenees, on a mission to evaluate roads and conditions and report back to Desgrange.

In Pau, in southern France, he hired a driver and set out for the Col du Tourmalet, buried under Pyrenean snows so deep that the pair couldn’t drive but halfway up the highest road in the range. Steinès abandoned the car — and, it would seem, any sense of safety — and, with the aid of a shepherd, managed to find his way to the summit, only to become disoriented in the growing darkness and fall into a ravine. At 3 a.m. he was discovered by a search party. The next morning, he sent a telegram to Desgrange: “No trouble crossing the Tourmalet. Roads satisfactory. No snow.”

And so it was that the Pyrenean cols of the Peyresourde, Aspin, Tourmalet, and Aubisque found a place in the 1910 Tour, and Tour history forevermore. It may have also been the birth of cycling’s obsession with climbing the most precipitous, arduous, soul-wrenching ramps on the Earth’s topography.

Here in Boulder, Colorado, we have equally sick individuals to Steinès, those who like to reach into the depths of themselves, or others (these are the promoters), and tap great athleticism, will, determination, strength, stupidity, and that all important quality of pain tolerance. In 1910, a climbing revolution began, and it rages on today as the lithe among us try to cram as many meters of vertical gain into as few miles as any map will allow.

Enter the Fearsome Five. Boulder county has its fair share of precipitous steep canyon climbs, and the F5 is an attempt to take in as many of them as possible, while keeping the ride as close to 100 miles as possible. Mark Lowe, a member of the Rocky Mountain Cycling Club, routed us over the five devils in as cruel a configuration as he could imagine. We gathered in downtown Boulder on a chilly Sunday morning. Casual chatter was mixed with curious glances toward gearing choice. Then, with Mark’s gentle words about the torture that we were about to face, we rolled out, north through town to the first of what would actually be eight distinct climbs. Five of them are monsters, and, in total, those who would finish would climb nearly 16,500 feet. Who could really say, but some suggested it was the hardest century in the U.S.

Maybe their names don’t ring out like Tourmalet and Aubisque, but the details of these climbs are, nonetheless, impressive.

Olde Stage Road: 2.9 miles at 4.8% (16% maximum)
SuperJames: 9.4 miles at 5.2% (11% maximum)
West Lee Hill: 1.3 miles at 7.1% (15% maximum)
Bow Mountain: 2.8 miles at 6.7% (18% maximum)
Sunshine Canyon: 9.0 miles at 6.2% (12% maximum)
Sugarloaf Mountain: 4.7 miles at 7.6% (12% maximum)
Magnolia Road: 4.5 miles at 9.1% (17% maximum)
SuperFlagstaff: 4.6 miles at 8.2% (14% maximum)

A lead group of five, myself included, quickly established itself, despite any attempt to distance the 30 other riders in this challenge. That’s the thing about a ride like this; yes, we were wearing numbers, simply for identification purposes at checkpoints, but this wasn’t exactly a race. You had a maximum of 11 hours. Go ride. Go fast. Or not.

I wanted to test myself, not only because I’m always wanting to test myself, but because I’m gearing up for some longer races (including the Ronde 100, a re-creation of the original 324km Tour of Flanders, and Dirty Kanza 200, on consecutive weekends). As many miles as I can gobble up between now and then, the better off I’ll be.

And, of course, I love to climb.

To me, there’s no better character-shaping discipline than climbing. If you’re heavy or light, predisposed to floating or destined to sink, you can learn more about what you’re capable of — and what you’re incapable of, or how deep you can go, or how badly you want more, or what joy can be wrung from the difficult — through the slope of a KOM segment than any town sprint. At least for me. Maybe that’s because the rise over run of a climb is really about the mind over matter inside your skull. You versus physics. The fascinating power of the brain.

The irony, of course, is that the simple machine that is the ramp — the inclined plane — is meant to make the work of moving things easier. At least that’s what any textbook would tell you. The trade-off is that to save effort, you have to move things a greater distance. The longer the climb, the easier the grade. Tell that to any cyclist 25 miles into a climb up 14,265-foot Mount Evans. It ain’t easy. Nor were the shorter and steeper climbs we were tackling on this day.

Still, to rate one climb against another is to miss the point of getting to the top. There’s nothing that tests your ability to defy physics — for however long you can handle — than turning skyward. And getting to the top of whatever mountain you happen to be climbing is meaningful for myriad reasons. They’re as hard as you want them to be, or need them to be. And if you aren’t into it, you can always turn around and coast. Maybe it’s just like life.

When asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest, it is often said that British mountaineer George Mallory famously quipped, “Because it’s there.” Unfortunately, he never said just that, but it makes for a good tale. If you go deeper, you’ll learn that Mallory was an artist and a philosopher as much as he was a mountaineer. If you read his longer explanations of why he climbed, you can glean much about why anyone would want to climb anything — for the first time in history, or the first time in your life, faster than you’ve ever gone before, by bike or by foot.

How to get the best of it all? One must conquer, achieve, get to the top; one must know the end to be convinced that one can win the end — to know there’s no dream that mustn’t be dared…Is this the summit, crowning the day? How cool and quiet! We’re not exultant; but delighted, joyful, soberly astonished. Have we vanquished an enemy? None but ourselves. Have we gained success? That word means nothing here. Have we won a kingdom? No…and yes. We have achieved an ultimate satisfaction…fulfilled a destiny. To struggle and to understand — never this last without the other; such is the law.

Back in Boulder, we all kept climbing away, some slower than others, all of us churning internally and externally, rhythmically singing with our legs as our heads told us the fat lady had started a tune. I rolled along for most of the ride quiet and alone, in the best of ways. I had found a place for placid, metronomic contemplation. But I was never lonely; I felt a continual presence of everything and everyone that has made me push. My legs filled with the combustible spirit of rotation, turn upon turn. Rhythmic, yes, the revolution of the cranks like steps on the circumambulation of a sacred summit. Methodical.

Seven hours and 47 minutes after the churning had begun, I rolled up to the last checkpoint, turned in my card which proved I had climbed to the top of each climb (there were questions on the card that could only be answered by getting to the top, e.g. “There is a sign opposite the mailboxes on the top of Flagstaff summit. What does it say?”); I had “won.” I had been chased all day by a cadre of strong riders, each in their own worlds of inclined planes and, I feel it’s safe to assume, thoughts of real food and inner struggles to turn circles with their spindly legs. They understood why they were there, and what they were doing to themselves.

In the words of Mallory, climbing makes perfect sense, to those who do it.

If you don’t understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of [a] mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won’t see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life…

I’ve already contacted Mark about next year’s course. Together, I hope we can make it harder, and more joyful. Long live long climbs.

Editor’s note: Managing editor Chris Case has spent enough time racing parking lot crits to know there are far more enjoyable ways to spend time racing a bike. In his quest to find pain and pleasure in equal measure, he has sought out the most unique, challenging, and captivating competitions to test his mind, body, and equipment. Follow along with his experiment to race the best and most difficult courses, the iconic and the emerging, the most punishing and most promising, on and off road. Live vicariously through him, poke fun at him, and follow him on Twitter and Instagram @leicacase. Questions or concerns for his well-being? Send him a note at ccase@competitorgroup.com.

Rebecca Rusch smashes Kokopelli Trail record

Chris Case — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 18:41:54 +0000

Rebecca Rusch crushed the female record on the 142-mile Kokopelli Trail on Saturday, despite a crash that saw her dislocate her finger, and the malfunction of her lights that had her riding in the dark for hours. | Photo: Corey Rich

Rebecca Rusch lived up to her nickname as the “Queen of Pain” on Saturday to crush the female record on the 142-mile Kokopelli Trail that runs from Moab, Utah, to Fruita, Colorado. Despite crashing, dislocating her finger, and riding without lights for a portion of the night, the Idaho-based Rusch completed the course in 13:32:46, besting the previous female record of 15:03 set by Lynda Wallenfels in 2006.

We caught up with her after the record-breaking romp.

VeloNews: Walk us through that incredible ride.

Rebecca Rusch: I love riding at night and was totally in my groove except for a bad crash at about two and a half hours in. I just hit a rut at high speed and took a nasty, unexpected crash. My first thought was, “Is the bike ok?” Next, I felt my left index finger in the wrong place. Without thinking I put it back in place, flexed it to see if I could still operate the brake, and hopped back on. It hurt but felt fine in the flexed position. It was dislocated and would pop back out if I reached into my jersey pocket or didn’t keep it slightly flexed. It wasn’t until I finished that I realized how bad it was and had split it open from the extreme dislocation. The most frustrating part was missing the Fruita Fat Tire Festival and a proper celebration after the ride!

VN: How bad is the finger?

RR: The finger is screwed up and will need a custom riding brace, but after a hand specialist dug around, there is no nerve or tendon damage. It didn’t slow me during the ride and I never really thought about it, but it is a big factor now. This was my first time on the course, so I had no idea what was around the next corner. I had studied maps, and had a Garmin with me, but had no actual course knowledge. This was challenging because virtually every turn needed to be evaluated, I had to slow and be sure, and many turns weren’t marked or were super confusing. I definitely spent mental energy making sure I was on course. There were at least a few times I blew past turns and luckily caught the mistake quickly.

VN: How were the course conditions and what role did they play in your time?

RR: Course conditions were as perfect as could be. One week ago there was deep mud and clay in the high elevations and it was unrideable. The week of warm weather dried the course to perfect “hero dirt” up high, and there was not too much energy-sapping sand down low. I couldn’t have timed it better — pretty lucky. There was also nearly a full moon that played a huge role in saving my ride because my light malfunctioned at about 4 a.m. and went totally black. I had to ride by moonlight on the most technical section of course for two and a half hours. That cost me lots of time and it was super dangerous, but it would have been impossible to continue without the moon to give me some visibility. Wind can also be an issue on the open desert parts in the second half of the course — and there was a small head wind, but nothing like what often rips through there.

VN: What was the hardest section of trail and why?

RR: Between 4 a.m. and 6 a.m. because of losing my light. It was super stressful trying to keep moving but not hurt myself. I burned some serious energy just trying to ride and stay upright. I had no choice but to get through and keep moving forward but burned serious emotional and physical energy there. The last 20 miles were also pretty tough because I had gambled a little on water and was out by then. It was a conscious decision, but I was very spent by then and the last 15 miles are really technical and slow. I was running on fumes by then.

VN: Did you have any low points out there?

RR: During the ride, I was pretty motivated the whole time and not really very low, even when my light went out — I was intent on not letting that stop me. By that time I knew I was on a good pace and got really focused on trying to just keep moving until the sun came up, and then trying to make up for lost time when I could see. The trail is so varied and inspiring for most of the way, so that kept me focused and I was really attentive to the turns and trying not to get lost, so having my head in the game really helped. Probably the hardest miles were the last 30 because they just seemed to tick by so slowly. I was smelling the barn, gambling with limited water stops, and running on fumes by that point, but was on a good pace.

VN: How hard was this effort compared to some of the other challenges you’ve undertaken?

RR: Right up there with one of the most challenging yet. I really tried to keep pushing very hard on those last 30 miles because I knew they were really slow, technical, and had hike-a-bike. I wanted a buffer in case of flat tires, more crashes, or cramping. None of those things happened, so I ended up with plenty of time. But like I said before, the record was a target but I still wanted to lay down the fastest time I could. Given the crash, my light going out, and the fact that I was a total rookie on this course, I’m pretty proud of my effort. I know I did my absolute best on the day with those conditions and unexpected elements. So, all in all, I wasn’t super low at any point. I was in the zone and actually really inspired and focused. It was a great adventure and I’m sort of glad it didn’t go smooth as silk because it makes me feel more proud of the achievement

VN: Would you do it again?

RR: I would. It’s an awesome ride with a little bit of everything, going from high alpine in the beautiful La Sal Mountains to really cool desert terrain. Some really technical stuff, some fast open roads. If and when I do it again, I’d do it with friends and just ride for fun. I don’t need to set a record breaking time again for a while, although I know if I went back, I could go faster now that I know the trail and have experience on it.

A Case for Suffering: Rebecca Rusch is the ‘Queen of Pain’ and wants to keep it that way

Chris Case — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 09:00:30 +0000

Rebecca Rusch will attempt to set a new record on the Kokopelli Trail. Photo: Dave McElwaine | VeloNews.com

Sometimes, the best things in life come with the highest price tag. No, I’m not talking about your next bike. I’m not talking about that villa in Tuscany. I’m not even talking about a thing.

Sometimes, the best that can be had can’t be held in your hands; it is intangible and without traditional value, except for the effort involved to reach what might be called success, or nirvana, or, maybe, just survival. You sweat, heave, bonk, gripe, moan, ache, hurt, and suffer, and then you reach an apogee that you never thought possible. When you reach the end, you’ve really just reached the beginning.

Such is life for a certain endurance athlete, affectionately known as the “Queen of Pain.” Rebecca Rusch was born in Puerto Rico in 1968. She’s traveled the world for adventure, self-discovery, competition, paychecks, and she keeps on riding. It hasn’t always been a ride, mind you.

Long before she raced a mountain bike, Rusch led professional adventure racing teams for 10 years, including one that took the top prize at the 2003 Raid Gauloises Adventure Racing World Championships. If you’re not familiar with the Raid, suffice it to say it is astonishingly difficult. She won the 24-hour solo mountain bike world championship from 2007 to 2009. In 2010, Rusch won a masters cross-country skiing world title. She’s since turned to the bike to cement her position as one of the best endurance athletes in the world.

Case in point: last August, she won her fourth straight Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race, setting a new female course record along the way. This was after saying she wasn’t going to return to the high-country race. Well, she did, and she says she’ll be back again in 2013.

Rusch just doesn’t want to stop. Her latest project is not a feat for the faint of heart, and fits my definition of worthy: absurdly difficult and breathtakingly beautiful.

Starting at midnight on April 27, Rusch will ride the iconic, 142-mile Kokopelli Trail in an attempt to break the female record of 15 hours and three minutes, set by Lynda Wallenfels in 2006. Rusch will ride unsupported, starting in Moab, Utah, and finishing just outside Fruita, Colorado. She’ll carry her own lights and be unable to ditch them. She’ll have to filter water along the way. If the weather doesn’t cooperate, she’ll likely hit stretches where the clay soil will become thick, unrideable stretches of muck. She won’t have anyone cheering for her, or chasing her down, pushing her to go faster. The engine of success will be in her head. And to top it off, she hasn’t seen a single inch of the trail. “It’ll be one big blind date out there,” Rusch said.

I caught up with her to talk about the attempt and the all-important question of why she keeps doing this to herself.

VeloNews: You’ve been doing these endurance events for a long time, so you know they’re going to hurt like hell. Why do you keep going back to them?
Rebecca Rusch: Shorter races may hurt, too, but I don’t feel like I grow as a person or tap into who I really am, or slay inner demons, or draw on mental strength and problem-solving skills, perseverance. I like who I am on the other side of [these challenges]. I like knowing how I’m going to deal with that stuff. This is my outlet to keep growing as a person. It takes a ride like that — 100 miles, 200 miles, four days, whatever it takes — to make the experience more core. Yeah, it hurts, but the best things come with a high price tag.

VN: What have you learned over the years on how to push yourself farther?
RR: I’ve definitely learned more about the science of training, training with power and things, which have added a whole new level of performance. I used to just go out and do things for a really long time when I was adventure racing; now I’ve gotten faster because I pay attention to power meters, and cadence, and pedal stroke. It’s fascinating and cool to see improvement even when you’re getting older and you’re supposed to be “slowing down.” But I still think my forte comes from my long adventure background — I know how to pace myself, I know how to turn the head off and just keep plugging along. I’ve learned time and time again that if you just keep going, a lot of times that’s enough. Even if you’re going at a snail’s pace, there’s somebody else going at, you know, a slower snail’s pace [laughs]. But there are a lot of head games out there; even at Leadville, I don’t look at the power meter, I go on feel, I go on what I know.

VN: Why did you decide to make the record attempt on the Kokopelli Trail?
RR: Red Bull always pushes their athletes to come up with projects or ideas — obviously they love competition — but they also love the “personal competition” as well. Just look at Felix Baumgartner jumping from outer space. For a number of years I’ve been thinking about a project. And my background is adventure racing and long endurance stuff where you don’t really know the course, you’re just out there for hours and days. The adventure side of things always appealed to me and I wanted to think of a classic route that would excite me. I looked at the Colorado Trail Race for years, but I decided I wanted to do something alone. And the Kokopelli Trail came up. I’ve never been on it, never touched it. And maybe this leads to bigger and better things. I’ve been thinking about riding the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Vietnam, so this could be a launching point for some other cool adventures.

VN: Do you feel like you’re drifting away from competition and more toward solo adventures?
RR: I’m a competitor for sure — I think I’ll line up for the rest of my life in one way or another — but there’s also this wanderlust that I’ve had since I was a kid and wanted to be camping out in my own backyard. That part of me is definitely not dead; with the high-end competition the last five years, some of that has gone by the wayside, but I might be revisiting some of my roots a little bit. I think it’s great to do both — to push yourself physically in a cyclocross race or a 24-hour race — but I think these really long journeys where you have to take care of yourself are good for everyone to dabble in, to get the best of both worlds.

Since we’re all about the self-discovery to be gained from suffering in this column, it’s worth noting that after Rusch finishes her own personal journey, she’s enticing others to do take one of their own. The “Join the Rusch” campaign will encourage people to complete their own 142-mile challenge. The rewards will be bountiful: personal growth, a lot of pain, satisfaction, and prizes (wheels, tours of the Kokopelli Trail, and so on), of course. Check out redbull.com/ruschhour for details.

A Case for Suffering: When epic isn’t enough

Chris Case — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 13:31:52 +0000

The loneliest stretch of road along an incredibly isolated AntiEpic course — the author spotted 20 cars all day — was this farm track, somewhere smack dab in the middle of nowhere. | Photo: Chris Case

After nine hours of pedaling, navigating, and aching, we were suddenly lost. Somewhere, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, the tracks we had been following were not to be found. County Road 82 and County Road 17 came to a “T;” I went left onto another anonymous road not unlike the previous 140 miles, riddled with washboarded ruts and covered in a fine powder of ochre dust. But there were no signs of previous treads.

My weary-eyed fellow competitor, Mark, had joined me not long ago; I caught him as he stood idly on the side of another dusty track, cursing ever so slightly. It turned out he was in the lead, then went off his cue sheet entirely and somehow found his way back on course — though he didn’t know it. “Yeah, you’re on the course. We’re going to go around this butte, then back onto CR 82 for a while,” I told him. He seemed rather reluctant to move. His off-route excursion cost him 11 miles, or so said our Garmins.

Mark trailed behind me on this current detour, too. He could sense it, perhaps. Eventually I did, came to a stop, and pulled out the map. A wrath of slightly more venomous cursing ensued. I quickly decided that wherever we were was the opposite of where we needed to be; I took off. Mark lingered a little longer, checking cue sheets and computers until he finally rolled my way.

It was easy to see that I had jumped ahead on the map, taken one turn too early, a mistake made easy by the complete agony I was in. When what you long for is to stop what you’re doing, knowing that you can’t stop for at least another hour — a sensation you’ve been experiencing for hours already — you lose any gentlemanly qualities.

Which begs the question that many have tried to answer: Why do we do this to ourselves? I have my reasons.

Call it a justification of masochistic tendencies, but I like to think of it as my DaVinci curse: I travel as part scientist, part artist, always curious, simultaneously pushing the experiment that is me to reveal something new, attempting to perfect the performance of pushing boundaries while remaining composed, enthralled, and inspired.

I don’t believe that it’s healthy to suffer for the sake of suffering. But it can be illuminating to inspect what suffering means to oneself, to get uncomfortable, then understand how to make that state comfortable once again. Then, you go beyond that to the unknown once more, slowly ascending the invisible staircase of self-understanding. You learn who you are and what it is to be human. You learn that we, humans, are capable of staggering things. What we think is our utmost is rather easily turned into another segment on the gran fondo of our evolution.

Yet, in the pursuit of harder, we often attempt to make things easier. When we do something that hurts or challenges us, we are naturally inclined to want to do it better (usually this means faster) the next time.

We train; we calculate; we furrow our brows and ponder the possibilities.

Of course, humans are also as dumb as they are smart. In the process of getting faster (i.e. better) we just go harder. And we never make anything easier. We might reduce the time we spend suffering, is all.

Yes, it’s like the Greg LeMond quote: “It never gets easier, you just go faster.” It’s like a hundred cliché maxims. How hard is Mont Ventoux versus Mount Baldy? Go as hard as you can and they are each as hard as they can be — pain levels reach a maximum. One painful ride will just be a bit shorter.

So, it all comes down to the clock — friend, enemy, instrument of torture, and impetus for self-directed exploration.

Back on the dirt roads of eastern Colorado, I was sliding from one butt cheek to the other, incapable of sitting on the saddle like a reasonable adult. I couldn’t stomach another ounce of food, and drinking wasn’t much better. My mind kept demanding to know why I was in the middle of this tortuous ordeal. I was mad at the world, so angry and exhausted I could only muster sporadic fits of short words that begin with “f.” This was the AntiEpic, a low-key “gravel grinder,” and it was turning into the hardest thing I had ever done.

Mark was slowly drifting back, farther and farther as we crested the innumerable rollers of eastern Colorado. Why was I looking back, I wondered? This isn’t a race against anyone but my own brain. I was in torment, honestly, and all I wanted was to fall asleep and wake up in a bathtub of milk and honey with a steak and beer next to me.

And then it was over. I checked in at a minivan, where the wife of the organizer waited for us to roll across the “finish line.”

“Good job. What’s your name? … OK, 5:24 p.m. You were fourth.”

It had been 10 hours, 52 minutes, and 27 seconds since our neutral roll out that morning under the watchful eye of Pikes Peak. I rode 159.3 miles on everything from glassy-smooth, polished dirt, to an undulating section of farm track B-road, and endless miles of sand, gravel, marbles, washboards, and solitude. I crawled over almost 10,000 feet of backroads, dosed in short, steep hills, hundreds of them, and an equal number of downhills that were just slightly uphill. Did I mention that I broke a spoke at mile 25 and was simply too incredulous to consider the consequences of having to walk 100 miles if I happened to break another, or three, in the next 135 miles of nowhere? So I rambled on without a rear brake, forever wary of the impending explosion of aluminum. It never came.

I sat in my car and hurt. And hurt. I just didn’t understand why I had done that, the pain was just that palpable. It took me a while to fully realize what I had done; it took me only slighter longer — remarkably, only another day or so — to stop questioning why I had done that and start daydreaming about when I could do it again.

That’s when I thoroughly considered the fact that I could be insane. Is it just me, or are some cyclists hard to comprehend, their interest in pushing beyond their limits at the core of their being, and radically different from the general population?

It’s not that I embrace pain, it’s that I don’t mind it that much, sometimes not at all.

There are different kinds of pain — the anaerobic violence of cyclocross versus the insatiable ache of the endurance gravel grinder — and, likewise, there are different forms of tolerance. We all have our tricks for setting it aside, and our reasons for going back for more.

Me? Many people don’t seem to understand me; most people don’t even ask. Maybe “crazy” is printed all over my kit, and they just shake their head and mutter, “Poor kid,” when I’m not looking.

Well, I do it to take my body to places that it has never been before. Because I can. I do it to use my mind to win out over my body. Because I can. I do it to evolve. Because I want to.

When epic isn’t enough, go farther. Because you can.

Editor’s note: Velo managing editor Chris Case has spent enough time racing parking lot criteriums to know there are far more enjoyable ways to spend time racing a bike. In his quest to find pain and pleasure in equal measure, he has sought out the most unique, challenging, and captivating competitions to test his mind, body, and equipment. Follow along with his experiment to race the best and most difficult courses, the iconic and the emerging, the most punishing and most promising, on- and off-road. Live vicariously through him, poke fun at him, and follow him on Twitter and Instagram @leicacase. Questions or concerns for his well-being? Send him a note at ccase@competitorgroup.com.

A Case for Suffering: The quest begins

Chris Case — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 18:36:03 +0000

Chris Case is on a quest for the most daunting and difficult, most beautiful and iconic races he can find. Follow along as he makes a case for suffering. Photo: Annette Hayden | VeloNews.com
I am on a quest for suffering and delight. I hope you’ll join me.

Sometimes I wake up with a belly full of motivation, the anxiousness of getting on the island that is the bike, able to erase any nagging grumbles from the stomach. The rhythmic whipping of the cranks is, sometimes, the only motivation I need.

Then there are the times when crawling from the bed feels like premature extraction from the womb. It’s a cold, dark world out there. If I finally do make it into the ether, I might find myself turning squares on the power of bitterness.

But either way, I end up pedaling. Ultimately, motivation is all about imagination. Sometimes the vision of crossing the line, hands raised in triumph (or doing whichever is your preferred victory salute), is readily available and amply dosed in the frontal folds of my sleepy cerebrum. Any means justifies that end. But during those days when I’m not feeling my most imaginative, the hardman in me has a hard time finding his way out of bed, let alone into a cold chamois.

I’ve just come through a difficult cyclocross season that saw me unable to be as imaginative as in past years. That likely had something to do with the previous year, when I was fueled by barrels of broken-hearted fire. Nothing seemed worthy of doing except expressing my anger, sadness, and confusion through desperate competition. I rode for the cathartic wash that came from blaming my former love for my best-ever performances.

In 2011, I headed to the Tour of the Gila for a spring whipping; crushed was the state of my frame after five days of relentless attacking, wind, and agony. I wasn’t well prepared going in; I left stronger and fiercer than ever before. My ability to hurt people, and be hurt, was enhanced by a summer spent raging up climbs, generously supplemented with attack-filled racing, as I looked for worthiness in my whole being. I ripped through the ’cross season — nearly capturing a masters world championship title until an errant chain drop 100 meters from the line spoiled an otherwise sublime day in Louisville, Kentucky.

There can be pleasure in pain. There can also come pleasure from pain. Sometimes, a dark hollow can lead to the brightest vistas.

Almost two years have passed. My last ’cross race of this season came and went uneventfully in Louisville in February. I was ready to pack the bike away one minute, and in the next found myself witnessing one of the most exciting single days of racing on American soil, as a swollen Ohio River threatened to drown the coronation of four of the best cyclocross racers on the planet in Sven Nys, Marianne Vos, Matthieu van der Poel, and Mike Teunissen. In that moment, I couldn’t believe I would have to wait months to compete again. The cyclocross world championships struck an inspirational chord in my cycling soul. It helped me reimagine what cycling should be: unadulterated exhilaration.

I’ve always been a fan of novelty and diversity in my riding. I’ve been known to take pleasure in suffering. Without a pro contract telling me which races I need to compete in, I’m on a quest to find the most grueling and enjoyable, the most unique and challenging, single-day bike races I can find. I’m relying on the tireless and often thankless efforts — and outright creativity — of race organizers to fulfill my need (and, hopefully, that of many others) to ride the most demanding and inspiring races that can be imagined.

In Colorado, we have some of the most iconic monuments of the pro-am realm. There’s the Bob Cook Memorial Mount Evans Hill Climb, in its 48th year. The course has never changed: Start in Idaho Springs at 7,540 feet, turn right at Echo Lake, ride 28 miles toward to sky — and the 14,264-foot pile of rock and rubble called Mount Evans. Beware of mountain goats and sheep, and, of course, breathe deeply and often.

I’ve done this race a number of times before, and even had myself a sprint finish for victory in the elite category, while firmly in the clutches of a hypoxic daze. Yes, this was two years ago when I was riding on fury. No, I didn’t win. I lost by three inches. I guess that’s why I need to go back and race it again.

We also have the mother of endurance mountain bike races, the Leadville Trail 100. I competed in this race for the first time in 2012, after sitting in assorted press rooms in France covering Le Tour the month prior to the race. I was in Bellegarde-sur-Valserine¬¬, sweating in the French sun, consuming bread and cheese, far, far away from the molybdenum mines of the Sawatch Mountains, when I received an email from the mothership: “We can send someone to Leadville this year. Would you like to do it?” There was no way I could say no, despite the fact that my buttocks had gone soft riding cheap plastic chairs in sundry makeshift media tents.

I finished; I got a coveted buckle. But my personal victory was riding every inch of the course — not a single dab to the ground on any section. Was it the fastest way to the finish line? No, and it hurt like hell, especially on the infamous Powerline climb on my return to town. But my addled mind didn’t really give a shit about what was easier or faster. It conjured up a test, a layer overarching the minor challenge of racing through the mountains 10,000 feet above sea level for 100 miles. If I wasn’t able to ride as fast as I’d like, at least I could make it as hard as could be. Likely it was a result of delirium-induced masochism, nothing more. Why do we like to make ourselves suffer? It’s a question I’ll turn to in the coming months in this column.

Last year gave me a taste of the “wicked hard.” This year, the racing that I’ll do has to meet a certain criteria: mainly, it has to be marginally absurd and definitely difficult, while still being beautiful and captivating. If a seasoned cyclist chortles when they hear the distance, that’s a good sign. If pros and amateurs can race the same exact course, that’s a nod in its favor. If I fear it, I know it’s for me. Take, for example, my late May line-up.

A friend convinced me that Dirty Kanza is about the most fun you can have on two wheels. Gravel roads, 200 miles of them, in Kansas, on June 1, un? Let’s see, marginally absurd and assuredly difficult. Most people’s faces contort when they hear it described. I’m in.

Not long after, I received an e-mail from the office of tourism in Flanders. It seems the Tour of Flanders — originally run on May 25, 1913 — will be celebrating the 100th anniversary of the 324km race with a re-creation of that epic, undulating, absurd parcours. I was invited to cover the events surrounding the celebration and, of course, partake in the self-flogging. If this didn’t meet my criteria, what would? Cobbles, bergs, wind, and jetlag, shaken and served on a buttered chamois — this is the recipe for pleasurable pain. I hope. The fact that the two races are separated by six days — and seven time zones — bodes well for ramping up both the sting and farce in equal measure.

And that’s just May. What else will hurt me this summer? A lot, I predict. Each of us has a different relationship with suffering. I’m on a quest to strengthen mine, give it the attention it deserves, and communicate with it so we come to an understanding. Any good marriage is about hard work, open dialogue, and strong partnership. I do, suffering.

Editor’s note: Velo managing editor Chris Case has spent enough time racing parking lot criteriums to know there are far more enjoyable ways to spend time racing a bike. In his quest to find pain and pleasure in equal measure, he has sought out the most unique, challenging, and captivating competitions to test his mind, body, and equipment. Follow along with his experiment to race the best and most difficult courses, the iconic and the emerging, the most punishing and most promising, on- and off-road. Live vicariously through him, poke fun at him, and follow him on Twitter and Instagram @leicacase. Questions or concerns for his well-being? Send him a note at ccase@competitorgroup.com.

Tour of Alberta announces inaugural host cities

Chris Case — Tue, 05 Mar 2013 22:19:50 +0000

The 2013 Tour of Alberta will start in Edmonton with a prologue and finish on a circuit in Calgary. Map: Tour of Alberta
BOULDER, Colorado (VN) — The Alberta Peloton Association, organizer of the inaugural Tour of Alberta, announced the 11 start and finish communities for the six-day race on Tuesday.

The race will start with a prologue in downtown Edmonton on Tuesday, September 3.

Stage 1 will travel 155 kilometers from the start in Strathcona County, running towards Saskatchewan, and finish to the south in Camrose.

Stage 2 will start in Devon and finish to the south in the city of Red Deer, after 185km.

The third leg, on Friday, will start in Strathmore, pass through the Canadian badlands, and finish to the northeast in Drumheller, in the Dinosaur valley, after 175km.

Stage 4 will pass over 210km from Black Diamond, head northwest, and finish in Canmore, just outside of Banff National Park.

The final stage will take place from Okotoks to downtown Calgary, with a finishing circuit, on Sunday, September 8. The stage will cover 150km.

Medalist Sports, which manages the operations of the Amgen Tour of California, Larry H. Miller Tour of Utah, and USA Pro Challenge, will handle the operational and technical aspects of staging the Tour of Alberta, as well.

The approximate total distance of the Tour of Alberta will be over 540 miles (875 kilometers). As a UCI 2.1 stage race, the event is expected to draw up to 16 elite teams, including up to eight ProTeams, and up to eight Pro Continental, Continental, or national teams from around the world. Each team will consist of up to eight riders.

“We hope to have this event for several years to come and we’re starting off with a great foundation as we go ahead,” said Brian Jolly, chair of the Alberta Peloton Association, the non-profit association organizing the Tour of Alberta. “We had a long list of communities to choose from — believe me, it was not an easy task to choose the host communities this year. Never fear, there will be many opportunities to host in the future.”

Organizers did not release any route information on Tuesday.

1st Tour of Alberta, September 3-8, 2013
Prologue: Tuesday, September 3, Edmonton
Stage 1: Wednesday, September 4, Strathcona County — Camrose
Stage 2: Thursday, September 5, Devon — Red Deer
Stage 3: Friday, September 6, Strathmore — Drumheller
Stage 4: Saturday, September 7, Black Diamond — Canmore
Stage 5: Sunday, September 8, Okotoks — Calgary

Gallery: Builders show ’cross, monster ’cross, and other unique builds at NAHBS

Chris Case — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 22:00:53 +0000

Many of the bikes on display at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show defy traditional categorization. These are those bikes

A (worlds) day in the life of Logan Owen

Chris Case — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 14:42:46 +0000

Velo managing editor spends the day of ’cross worlds embedded with American medal hopeful Logan Owen

Mathieu Van Der Poel v. Logan Owen: A tale of two juniors whose ending has yet to be written

Chris Case — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 01:26:21 +0000

Mathieu Van Der Poel continues the family tradition of excelling — even dominating — cyclocross. Photo: Wil Matthews | www. wilmatthewsphoto.com
LOUISVILLE, Kentucky (VN) — Two for two. 25 for 25. Either way you measure it, Mathieu Van Der Poel is perfect. The Dutchman captured each of the two world championships he contested at the junior level, including Saturday’s race in Louisville. On the season, he stacked up 25 straight victories.

Perfect dominance.

He now graduates to the under-23 ranks. Could he possibly be as successful next year?

“I think that I can expect a lot. I’ve been comparing some lap times and I can see that I’m able to follow [the U23 riders],” Van Der Poel told VeloNews. “But the circumstances are always different, and we’re going to see next year what I can do.

“There are some guys that are leaving to the pro ranks, like Wietse Bosmans (this year’s silver medalist in the U23 world championship on Saturday), so I won’t be riding against them. We shall see where it goes.”

If results and pedigree mean anything, this Van Der Poel will follow in his father’s footsteps.

For the last 30 years, the name Van Der Poel meant Adri, the father of both Mathieu and older son David. Adri Van Der Poel was a force on both the road and in cyclocross in the 1980s and ’90s.

He proved his talent by becoming one of the most victorious ’cross racers ever. A seven-time national champion, he won the world title in 1996 in Montreuil, France, and finished second at worlds five times. A fourth-place finish at the 2000 world cyclocross championship marked his final ride.

Then, in 2008, the name Van Der Poel started to ring out again. This time it was David. By 2010, only his second year of competition in the junior division, David began — yes — dominating races. At one point in the season he captured 15 of the 16 UCI calendar events, including 10 victories.

So it should be no surprise that the youngest son has gone one step further, taking his second title in two attempts, and 25 victories without a hitch.

The world championship was another shining example of how the convergence of talent and good fortune can yield perfection. Van Der Poel simply rode away from the field. He never followed a wheel; he rarely made a mistake on the treacherous course. He suffered no mechanicals, and only the soles of his feet touched the ground.

Nevertheless American fans were hopeful going into the race. Logan Owen represented a credible and serious threat to Van Der Poel’s reign. Owen had taken second to the Dutchman in the fourth round of the World Cup in Zolder , and rode through the entire field in the second World Cup in Pilsen after a problem at the start saw him lose more than a minute to the leaders; he finished third. Racing on American soil would only motivate him to a higher level.

But the pressure was also palpable, with chants of “Logan! Logan!” rising from the throngs that filtered past the Team USA compound, where the riders were warming up, as they entered the venue. Owen is a star: young, but full of potential, talent, and confidence. A newborn star.

“I feel better than I have all year,” Owen said the day before the race. “I’ve never felt this good.”

But it would not be Owen’s day. Perhaps feeling the nerves that only high expectations can place on young shoulders, he lunged ahead prematurely at the start, then paused momentarily as he realized his mistake, only to see the green light flash and the field swarm around him.

It went from bad to worse when German Marco König tried to dive inside of Owen on the first sweeping corner, crashing both of them. Riding from behind on the snow-covered ruts, where in many places only a single clean line had developed, proved challenging. But Owen did it, steadily and impressively riding through the field — much like he did in Pilsen — and into third place.

Still, he had not faced all of the day’s misfortunes. In the icy conditions, Owen’s chain fell from his drivetrain repeatedly, and he had to dismount to put it back on. He dropped to eighth. This final setback only allowed Owen to prove he was one of the two strongest and most technically skilled riders in the field. He surged a final time, nearly reaching the podium, placing fourth, four seconds behind Adam Toupalik of the Czech Republic.

“I know I was easily the second strongest guy out there. If I just could have had a good start, I know I could have battled with [Martijn] Budding for second,” Owen told VeloNews just after the race.

“It was just bad timing with my chain falling off when it did. If it had fallen off earlier, it would have been fine. I could have caught [Adam]. I was so much better on this course then [Adam and Martijn]. It’s really disappointing because I know I’m so much better than that.

“I wish I had a redo. It could go so much better. Things just weren’t going well for me out there. It just wasn’t my day.”

It was a tale told a thousand times at every cyclocross race. Perfection versus misfortune. But if the victory by 36-year-old Sven Nys in the elite world championship proves anything, it’s that Van Der Poel and Owen could have 18 more years to prove themselves at the highest level of the sport.

Van Der Poel hopes to carry the family tradition forward by winning an elite world championship title; Owen hopes to carry the pressures of American cyclocross stardom and do the same. It seems they’ll meet again in the mud, ruts, snow, and slop of ’cross courses around the world.

Does Van Der Poel expect to see Owen again, and battle with him for years to come? He does. In fact, he hopes so.

Analysis: Elite American men chase varying degrees of success in Louisville

Chris Case — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 10:00:25 +0000

The six men of the U.S. National Team (L-R): Tim Johnson, Danny Summerhill, Ryan Trebon, Jeremy Powers, Jonathan Page and Jamey Driscoll. Photos: Dan Seaton | Wil Matthews

LOUISVILLE, Kentucky (VN) — The wait is over. The training has come to an end. The Super Bowl of cyclocross descends on Louisville, Kentucky, this weekend for the UCI Elite Cyclocross World Championships, the first held outside of the sport’s historic epicenter in Europe. And the elite American men’s team has high hopes on home soil. Call it the “host-nation effect,” but the U.S. National Team staff, the riders, and the American fans all wish for great things come Sunday.

“Every single one of the [American] elite men seems like they could be our best guy,” Marc Gullickson, USA Cycling’s cyclocross program director told VeloNews. “It’s going to be tough for one of those guys to get on the podium. Slightly more realistic is top five. If one of those guys could be in the top five I think it would be a great day. A couple of them in the top 10 would be good, really good. It would be great for the fans to see at least one of them racing in the top groups.”

Defining success

With no absolute star on the team — and with up-and-down results late in the season — it’s anyone’s guess who the top American will be, especially given the changing weather and course conditions. Each of them defines success differently. For Gullickson, though, he is looking to three men — Jeremy Powers, Jonathan Page, and Danny Summerhill — for the most interesting outcomes, while admitting that the other three — Tim Johnson, Ryan Trebon, and Jamey Driscoll — are just as likely to pull off a great result, depending on the day they have and the luck they find at Eva Bandman Park.

Powers has been the most successful American at the World Cups this year, specifically the early season round in Tabor, Czech Repubic, where he finished seventh, the best-ever results for an American elite man. He has also dominated the domestic ’cross scene this season. His only hitches this year — and they are significant ones — were a late season push through Europe just after a heavy training block that saw him drifting backwards in a series of races over the holiday season, and an unfamiliar off day at the national championships in Verona, Wisconsin. After another training block before last week’s Kings International event in Cincinnati, Powers was pleased with the way he was able to shake out the “cobwebs and open it up at the end of that race.” He’s come around after feeling frustrated by his late season dip.

“[The goals] are still the same. What’s possible and what’s reality are two different things though,” Powers said. “I’m going to smash it, hurt myself, decimate myself, put myself in a bad place. It’s not that I don’t always do that, but worlds will be all the more so. Top five? Yeah, I’d love it. Can I? I’d really love it. But the reality is I have no idea.”

Powers has the passion, if not the outright skill to contend with the Belgians and pull it off. Gullickson agrees.

“If he could put another performance like he did in [Tabor], I think he’d be happy. I hope he’d be happy. To be within striking distance of a top five would be great,” Gullickson said.

Perhaps surprisingly, Gullickson is also looking toward the youngest member of the elite squad, 24-year-old Summerhill, to have another amazing ride to follow on the heels of his breakout season.

“Summerhill has a big question mark over him. He’s taken it a lot more lightheartedly this year, or it seems so to me, but he’s had some of his best results,” Gullickson said. “In the back of my mind I’m thinking he could have a breakout ride here. He’s had some amazing rides this season and is coming in with the least amount of pressure on him.”

The lack of pressure is a key component to his success this season, according to Summerhill. And he continues to dream big while staying low-key about it all. Here he is, on the verge of his neo-pro road season, having thought he would hang his ’cross bikes up after the mid-December Trek U.S. Gran Prix of Cyclocross event in Bend, Oregon.

“Being here is a success in itself,” Summerhill told VeloNews. “I didn’t think I’d be able to go too much further than the USGP in Bend. So the fact that I’m even here is incredible.”

As for his chances in the race, his biggest disadvantage will be starting deep in the field — having raced only a select schedule this season, he has the lowest UCI points ranking among the elite Americans. That doesn’t stop him from thinking about another amazing result to go along with his silver medal at the 2007 junior world cyclocross championship.

“Things could go my way and I could have a good day… a top 10 would be unreal. A top 15 would be very cool, and anything after that would be fine with me, too,” Summerhill said.

Page is on an upward trajectory that sees him poised for another standout performance at worlds, to follow his own silver medal at the elite level in 2007. The relief of signing with new title sponsor Fuji has only helped his cause. http://velonews.competitor.com/2013/01/news/u-s-champ-page-signs-with-fuji_273112

“Page has a history of bringing his best game to worlds, especially when he has a slow start to the season which he did this year,” Gullickson said.

Page, a veteran of countless big-time European races and many world championships, is a bit more cautious about his hopes, and vaguely defines success, as does any seasoned ’cross racer who knows how variable things can be — both in the body and from the skies.

“I don’t know how good a race I’ll have, but I want to go as fast as I can on the day. I’m not going to say what place I want or will make me happy. The higher, the better, of course,” Page told VeloNews.

For his part, Trebon seems even more nonchalant than Summerhill.

“It’s a bike race and stuff can go really wrong, really fast, and sometimes you don’t have control over what happens. For me I just want to have a good start, ride the race, feel good,” Trebon said. “I’ve done bad at worlds before; I’ve done well at worlds before. I’m not going to be disappointed either way.”

His teammate Driscoll is more concrete about his aspirations. His trajectory is similarly pointed skyward as Page’s, though with less degree of success — he took third at the national championships on the frozen Verona ruts.

“I’d definitely like to best my current top worlds finish,” Driscoll told VeloNews. That was a 19th place in Tabor three years ago. “I just don’t know how the Euros are going to respond to the travel, and there are five other really dedicated Americans that also want to put on a good show.”

Gallery: Critical points on the course for the 2013 UCI Elite Cyclocross World Championships

Chris Case — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 00:09:30 +0000

Sven Nys looks good on U.S. soil. Here he runs up the limestone staircase, where most of the European journalists collected; this was the first time most of the Europeans had ridden the course. Chris Case | VeloNews.com
Critical points on the course for the 2013 UCI Elite Cyclocross World Championships

From the Pages of Velo: Gunning for glory on home turf

Chris Case — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 13:34:07 +0000

Velo February 2013. Photo by Tom Moran

Editor’s note: This profile of the elite men and women of the U.S. National Team headed for the UCI Elite Cyclocross World Championships this week in Louisville, Kentucky, first appeared in the March issue of Velo magazine, and our official guide to the worlds.

Gunning for glory

It hasn’t been easy, for either the racers or the organizers, but the rise in American cyclocross talent and success on the world stage happens to coincide with a historical first: the elite world cyclocross championships will jump the pond, leaving its traditional epicenter in the Belgian countryside for the unlikely host city of Louisville, Kentucky, to a slice of land along the banks of the Ohio River. In February, Eva Bandman Park will host the revolution.

Being on home soil, the championships may well bring out the best in the host country, much like the Olympics seem to inspire home nations. Could we finally see someone in a stars and stripes skinsuit trade it for a rainbow jersey? Why such hope for fortune at home? What’s the big difference between racing in the mud in Kentucky and the mud in Belgium?

“Our results [in Europe] don’t always reflect how well we’ve been riding or what kind of a race we can put together when all goes right,” said three-time national champion Tim Johnson of Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com. “We always travel to race, we always go well outside of our comfort zone to race. The questions I’ve had from my Belgian peers are pretty funny because they have no idea how to travel and race at the same time.”

Advantage number one to the Americans: They finally get to tackle the biggest race of the year, at home.

Naturally, knowing a course, and the nuances of the city surrounding it, make a professional racer that much more comfortable come race day. It all adds up to advantage number two.

“There’s no added pressure, actually it’s the exact opposite,” said Johnson’s new Cannondale teammate, Ryan Trebon. “It is so many extra small things that we don’t have to worry about this year: We have our own trucks, our own mechanics, good, normal food that’s always accessible, and no trans-Atlantic flights to contend with. I am beyond stoked not to have to spend January in Belgium this winter.”

From the Pages of Velo: How Lousiville became the first American host of ‘cross worlds

Chris Case — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 16:33:59 +0000

Velo February 2013. Photo by Tom Moran

Editor’s note: This feature originally appeared in our guide to the 2013 UCI Elite Cyclocross World Championships in the February 2013 issue of Velo magazine. Since the issue went to print, Bruce Fina and Joan Hanscom have handed over management of the world championships to USA Cycling following the departure of title sponsor Exergy Development Group. USA Cycling vice president of national events Micah Rice is the acting race director, while Hanscom continues to fulfill a support role.

‘Crossing the pond

Abandoned cars. Trashed washing machines. Thick, litter-strewn underbrush and vagrant camps.

Six years ago, what was to become Eva Bandman Park was nothing more than a neglected patch of land on the southern banks of the Ohio River, just outside of downtown Louisville, Kentucky.

On February 2-3, 2013, the park’s miraculous transition will be complete, as the best cyclocross racers in the world will descend on the small plot of renovated property for the first world cyclocross championships held on anything other than European soil.

How did this small city in the central United States — world famous as the host of that iconic American race, the Kentucky Derby — come to host the world championships of one of the most deeply rooted European niches of cycling?

Like any good cyclocross race, it is a circuitous tale involving diverse terrain and numerous barriers, one where the most determined competitor came out on top.

Powers Q&A: Turning page on a non-factor day at nationals

Chris Case — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 21:19:23 +0000

Jeremy Powers is already in Louisville, trying to ride his Verona disappointment into the distant past. Photo: Wil Matthews | www. wilmatthewsphoto.com
BOULDER, Colorado (VN) — Jeremy Powers (Rapha-Focus) blazed through the 2012 domestic ’cross season, racking up win after win at UCI C1 races. He won the overall series title at the Trek USGP of Cyclocross without having to contest the final two races. He has hovered around the 10th in the UCI’s cyclocross rankings all season long. He looked to be on better form than he did last year when he took his first national title in Madison, Wisconsin. And with a seventh place at the Tabor World Cup, a best-ever result for an American male, Powers has been having a season to remember.

As for his performance on Sunday at the USA Cycling Cyclocross National Championships, it’s a race he’d just as soon forget, and he is turning the page as he prepares for the UCI elite world championships on February 3 in Louisville, Kentucky.

On Monday VeloNews caught up with Powers, who had already flown from Madison, Wisconsin, to Louisville, to get ready for his assault on the world stage.

VeloNews: So, what happened yesterday?
Jeremy Powers: Honestly, I don’t really know. Everything leading up to the race went really well. I honestly don’t have an answer for you or myself at the moment. Sometimes that’s the unfortunate thing in bike racing when you do a lot of things but still aren’t able to answer that question right now. It was very frustrating for me. I did everything I wanted to do this year; I felt like I wanted that the most [the national title] and I failed at getting it, and I’m for sure disappointed. I worked my butt off. I wouldn’t do anything differently to prepare for it; I just wish it had gone differently. I didn’t ride a flawless race yesterday; I was off line, I wasn’t hitting everything perfectly. I thought I was doing well and then, as I tried to come back in laps two and three, I wasn’t coming back fast enough and I said to myself, ‘Wow, this is the way it’s going to go.’ There’s nothing really more to say. People were riding faster than I was and I couldn’t do anything about it and that hasn’t happened to me this year yet.

VN: Have you ever ridden in conditions like that before?
JP: It was pretty rutted. I can’t remember a race we’ve done like that. Last year [in Madison], there were frozen ruts that got pretty deep on the top, but it just dried out much faster last year; there was more space. This year was more like a singletrack race with a lot of grease on it. It was almost the perfect course for [teammate] Zach [McDonald]. For me though, I just wasn’t in the race. I didn’t have an impact.

VN: You sound very frustrated.
JP: I’m better today already. One thing I really have to tell myself is that I tried so hard to do more than I have ever done before with that [national champion’s] jersey. For me, that meant going to Europe this year a bunch of times. The racing and training to try and be the best I could be at the world level. And it’s new, trying to fly to World Cups in Europe, then fly back and do well in U.S. races, then training camps. I had a lot of firsts, and while I did try to do every little thing I could possibly do to control to make this race go well, and the race in Louisville go well, it’s a little bit back to basics for me. I know what’s worked before and I have to backpedal a little bit and try and understand how to get back.

VN: Are you the type of rider that feeds off of frustration, or do you just want to forget about this race and move on?
JP: The motivation is there. There’s some determination [to move on] because things didn’t go well, but I’m not a rider that rides off anger. I am definitely really excited for Louisville and want to have a really good race in Cincinnati. I know where I’m at. I’ll rebuild from yesterday and that doesn’t make it easier. It just is what it is. I just wish there were just more races so I could really showcase the form I have.

Wilcoxson surprises everyone on her way to silver at nationals

Chris Case — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 21:06:00 +0000

Jade Wilcoxson powered through a tough course and avoided mechanical problems to finish second. Photo: Wil Matthews | www. wilmatthewsphoto.com
VERONA, Wisconsin (VN) – Not the mountain biker Georgia Gould (Luna), nor the young and fearless Kaitlin Antonneau (Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com) could muster a silver medal at the USA Cycling Cyclocross National Championships on Sunday. Nor could the experienced Maureen Bruno-Roy (Bob’s Red Mill-Seven), nor the ever-talented Meredith Miller (Cal-Giant-Specialized). Not even the former downhill mountain biker Nicole Duke (Alchemy Bicycle Company), though she came closest.

No, none of these riders slayed the rutted, frozen track of Prairie Badger Park in Verona, Wisconsin, quite as well as the 34-year-old Jade Wilcoxson (Optum-Kelly Benefit Strategies). Except, of course, for the indomitable Katie Compton (Trek Cyclocross Collective).

Compton won her ninth straight cyclocross national championship title on Sunday; it’s as if they are automatic at this point, though the Colorado Springs resident said it was anything but, proclaiming that the course conditions in Verona were the most difficult she’d ever raced on.

Yet it was the unknown Wilcoxson who had jaws dropping in the frigid mid-January Wisconsin temperatures.

Out of nowhere

How did this relative unknown take on what one of the most prolific cyclocross racers of all time described as one of the most intense courses she’d ever raced, and not only come away unscathed, but beat up on the competition?

“I don’t really ride my bike in these kinds of conditions!” Wilcoxson said just before stepping onto the second step of the podium Sunday night. Incredibly, she had just come off a nine-day training session on the track; the warm, indoor temperatures and pristine track surface were surely a distant memory after the jackhammering sensations of the rut-laden, lava-like surface in Wisconsin.

“Having just come off the track, I was really worried about the technical parts of it. But I just got out there and felt great, and for some reason today things were just clicking. Skills that I didn’t think were there, were there,” she said. “I think it helped that I was so nervous about the technical aspects that I just didn’t care what anyone else around me was doing — I’m not going to try and go faster if somebody passes me because they might crash. I’m just going to do my own thing. And having that track fitness, just laying down the power really helped.”

She steadily worked her way through the field, riding her own race, until she caught the audacious Duke with just under a half a lap to go; Duke latched on to her wheel until they hit the finishing stretch of pavement. Wilcoxson powered away from Duke on the tarmac, taking silver by a comfortable margin.

“My bike was so gunked up with mud that I couldn’t shift into my big ring, so it was a little ring sprint,” she said. It would turn out to be the second fortuitous advantage of having just come off the track, another cycling discipline she has started just recently. “All week on the track I’ve been hating this cadence, 120 rpms! But I had to use it today.”

She crossed the line over a minute behind Compton, but put in such an impressive ride that people immediately began wondering if she had any chance of garnering a discretionary selection for the U.S. team at the cyclocross world championships, which take place February 2-3, in Louisville, Kentucky.

Unfortunately, Wilcoxson had not applied for a discretionary spot; however, immediately following the race she spoke with Marc Gullickson, the cyclocross program director for USA Cycling and advisor to the committee tasked with making final selections. Gullickson told VeloNews he was willing to see if an exemption could be pressed so that Wilcoxson could at least be considered. The final team will be announced later today.

How’d she get here?

Wilcoxson’s road to the silver medal is not an uncommon one in the world of professional women’s cycling — it started with a career change well beyond the teen years when the majority of males start their rise through the ranks. In 2012, that career led to a road contract with Optum and Velo’s Domestic Road Breakthrough Rider of the Year award.

A little over a year ago, Wilcoxson was working as a physical therapist in Oregon and dabbling in elite-level racing. Armed with a doctorate in physical therapy from Pacific University, the mountain biker-turned-road racer took aim at the Nature Valley Grand Prix in 2011, earning a spot with the Pro Ride amateur team after she won a regional qualifier in Oregon. From there, she’s shot to the front of the women’s peloton and shown herself as one of the most talented all-rounders in the country.

When Optum boss Rachel Heal came calling late in 2011, Wilcoxson decided to put her PT practice on hold, rent out her home, move into a suitcase, and fully dedicate herself to a new career. It paid off quickly.

Wilcoxson established herself fiercely in 2012, riding to an impressive fourth overall at the SRAM Tour of the Gila in early May, before winning the overall at the Joe Martin Stage Race on the strength of her final-stage criterium victory. Podiums at big-time criteriums like the Sunny King in Alabama and Grand Cycling Classic in Michigan followed, as did wins at the Blue Ribbon Alpine Challenge, in Aspen, Colorado, and the Tour of Elk Grove, near Chicago.

Wilcoxson finished the season third in the National Racing Calendar rankings, just 13 points behind second-place Alison Powers (NOW-Novartis for MS). She was a key piece of the team’s overall title and was instrumental in every one of Optum’s stage race successes in 2012, from the Gila all the way through to Elk Grove.

Her first year of ’cross racing was equally impressive; she notched a number of solid results, including seventh- and ninth-place finishes at the Trek U.S. Grand Prix of Cyclocross Smart Wool Cup and a three top-six results at Jingle Cross Rock. A late-season fourth place on the second day of the USGP Deschutes Brewery Cup showed Wilcoxson was on the rise.

But nothing compares to her latest performance.

“Everybody — even people on my team — were, like, ‘What the hell? Where did she pull that out off?’ It was just one of those days where things just clicked,” she said.

Analysis: The projected U.S. team for the 2013 elite cyclocross world championships

Chris Case — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 13:09:06 +0000

Jamey Driscoll punched his ticket to Louisville with a third-place ride on Sunday in Verona. Photo: Wil Matthews | www. wilmatthewsphoto.com
VERONA, Wisconsin (VN) — Newly crowned national champions Jonathan Page (ENGVT) and Katie Compton (Trek Cyclocross Collective), and the rest of the men’s and women’s elite fields, are still shivering after a frigid USA Cycling Cyclocross National Championships on Sunday, but all eyes have already turned south to Louisville, Kentucky, and the elite world championships.

Elite worlds are for the first time being held outside the sport’s historic epicenter in Europe. As hosts, USA Cycling wants to send an experienced, competitive squad to the February 2-3 event; if Sunday told us anything, it’s that the competition is as deep as ever. So, who will represent the United States at worlds?

USA Cycling’s cyclocross program director, Marc Gullickson, plans to fill every one of the United States’ 22 worlds spots. Though a number of riders have made the team by meeting USA Cycling’s criteria for automatic qualification, there still remain a number of discretionary selections for the elite men’s and women’s, and junior and U23 men’s categories. There are a number of picks that need to be made before USA Cycling announces its team selection today, just hours after the final rider crossed the finish line at nationals. This, in turn, will give those riders selected only three weeks to wrap their heads around what they need to do to be at their best for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Let’s take a look at the elite men’s, women’s, U23, and junior team selections.

Elite men

Four men should secure automatic qualifications to the team. Jeremy Powers (Rapha-Focus) does so based on three criteria — he is the highest ranked U.S. rider in the UCI rankings, he earned a seventh-place finish at the Tabor World Cup, and he is the top points holder from the North American C1 events. Likewise, newly crowned national champion Jonathan Page — already an automatic qualifier for his top-15 ride at the Namur World Cup — gets the nod for his win in Wisconsin. Joining them will be Ryan Trebon and Tim Johnson (Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com), currently the second- and third-ranked U.S. men in the UCI standings.

With a third place at nationals, Jamey Driscoll (Cannondale) — already having performed well at UCI C1 events in North America, which Gullickson says are heavily weighted in the selection process — should have locked up his position on the team. This is bolstered by the fact that his form seems to be peaking, evidenced by his victory and a second place at the recent Chicago Cyclocross Cup New Year’s Resolution. And good form is also important in the selection process, according to Gullickson.

Chris Jones (Rapha), already on the bubble for a selection, had a setback at nationals before the gun even went off. He didn’t take the start after injuring his thumb in a crash during course inspection. Unable to have an x-ray before the start on what he suspected could be a broken thumb, he decided to sit the race out. His chances at worlds selection may have faded with the mishap.

So it was Danny Summerhill (UnitedHealthcare) that may have stepped into the void. Already this season he has shown the most promise when he’s been able to hit the UCI races on the national circuit. Summerhill lacks the points he likely would hold if he had full team support for ’cross. Some doubt existed about his ability to make a run at worlds with his neo-pro road contract about to commence with UnitedHealthcare. But he’s all in.

“Yeah man! For sure I’m in for worlds,” he told VeloNews before nationals. “I’m hoping I get that fifth or sixth spot. Consistency wise I would have thought I was there, but I don’t have the money to go to all these other UCI races everyone’s been at lately.” After his fourth-place performance at nationals, it’s a good bet that his limited schedule will still land him a coveted spot on the team.

“Danny is the youngest of those likely to get a [discretionary] spot. And he has a good history at worlds as a junior so that may be considered if it’s looking close,” said Gullickson.

Projected elite men’s roster:
Jonathan Page, EGNVT
Jeremy Powers, Rapha-Focus
Ryan Trebon, Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com
Tim Johnson, Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com
Jamey Driscoll, Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com
Danny Summerhill, UnitedHealthcare

Elite women

Katie Compton qualifies based on three criteria: she won three rounds of the World Cup this season (she also won the overall title, which allows the U.S. to select a sixth team member), she is the top points holder from the North American C1 events, and she won yet another national title.

Certain to join her is Kaitlin Antonneau (Cannondale), who finished ninth in the elite women’s World Cup opener in Tabor, Czech Republic. Beyond that, and given the addition of a sixth member to the team, the battle for the other four discretionary spots is feisty. Almost certain to get the nod are Georgia Gould (Luna) and Amy Dombroski (Telenet-Fidea). While Gould, who came into the ’cross season fresh off her bronze-medal rides in the Olympic and world championship cross-country races, hasn’t raced in Europe this year, history — and her 2012 results, which include a slew of seconds and thirds to Compton — has proven that she’ll likely be able to ride from the U.S. circuit onto the worlds team. Her fourth place at nationals, after battling back from an early mishap, only helped her cause.

“With her strength in the domestic C1 races distinguishes her in my mind as a strong candidate,” said Gullickson.

Dombroski brings the valuable mix of being young, capable of a top-15 (with two 11th-place finishes in World Cups this year), and employed by the highest-profile team in the sport. But, she did not make the trip over for nationals.

“Of course, I’m disappointed she’s not here (at nationals) but I know that she doesn’t have a huge budget and she has a contract for a race next weekend and she wants to do Hoogerheide (World Cup),” said Gullickson. “She had to make a decision. I told her if she’s on the bubble it could hurt her not coming back, but her two World Cups (where she almost qualified) were really strong rides.”

Given her recent performances in Europe, which include an eleventh place at the Namur World Cup, Meredith Miller (Cal Giant-Specialized) is another likely choice for one of the discretionary selections.

“I missed two months of racing and that was two months that people didn’t see me racing against my competition,” Miller told VeloNews. “But then I came back (to racing), and with the exception of Bend, which wasn’t so great, I went over to Europe, and those are the people I’m going to be competing against at worlds, and I’m right there with them. A lot of the Americans were there and, with the exception of Katie Compton, the five races that I did, most often I was second American.”

She rode well for much of the national championship race, getting off to her best start yet in a ’cross nationals race and riding much of the 40 minutes in the top three. Miller was ultimately disappointed after falling to eighth, finishing distantly to a number of riders also pressing for selectiong. However, Miller’s recent form, her European success, and her abilities on a power rider’s track — like Eva Bandman Park in Louisville — tilt the selection in her favor.

For the final spot, USA Cycling has a tough decision. In the running are Nicole Duke (Alchemy Bicycle Company), Maureen Bruno-Roy (Bob’s Red Mill-Seven), Crystal Anthony (Cyclocrossworld.com), and Teal Stetson-Lee (Luna).

Jade Wilcoxson, who came off of nine days of track training to notch a jaw-dropping second place at nationals, did not apply for a discretionary selection. However, Gullickson said he was willing to see if an exemption could be pressed so that Wilcoxson could at least be considered. It is unknown how that would alter the decision-making process for worlds selection; the process for picking the four open elite women’s slots may be the most difficult that USA Cycling faces.

Duke rode to a very strong third place at nationals — for the second year in a row — to redeem her season and strengthen her chances for the team. It is difficult to imagine a worlds team without the two-times consecutive nationals bronze medalist.

Bruno-Roy, however boasts a good deal of European experience, a solid seventh place at nationals, and the “it” factor that the selection committee looks for in supporting cast members.

Emerging talent Anthony rode to a fine fifth at nationals and dipped her feet in Europe over the Kerstperiode with some success. She and Stetson-Lee, who has had strong results in UCI C1 races domestically through the season, and was sixth at nationals, have a case for the selection committee’s criteria as riders for the future.

“I’m glad we got that sixth spot for the team, because [the women] are going to be the toughest category to choose, because we have so many good women in comparison to the rest of the world,” said Gullickson. “So, I’m pretty excited.”

Projected elite women’s roster:
Katie Compton, Trek Cyclocross Collective
Kaitlin Antonneau, Cannondale-Cyclocrossworld.com
Georgia Gould, Luna
Amy Dombroski, Telenet-Fidea
Meredith Miller, Cal Giant-Specialized
Nicole Duke, Alchemy Bicycle Company

U23 men

Zach McDonald (Rapha) is the only automatic qualifier to the team, as he finished fourth for U23 men at the Tabor World Cup. He opted for the elite race at nationals, finishing second to Page, instead of the U23 race, and Yannick Eckmann (Cal Giant) took the title, but is ineligible to represent the U.S. at worlds because of citizenship issues. So, first-year U23 Andrew Dillman (Bob’s Red Mill) looks to have seriously bolstered his worlds selection with a second-place finish in Verona. The other important factor for the selection committee to consider is results from the Kerstperiode European swing, where Dillman finished 37th at the Zolder World Cup, the second American behind McDonald.

“Dillman really stepped up (Saturday) and he really had the most consistent European holiday race series over there, aside from Zach,” said Gullickson. “He impressed me over there and did again yesterday.”

Beyond Dillman, things get a little less clear, at least based on pure results. Tobin Ortenblad (Cal Giant) claimed third yesterday at nationals, but his European campaign was inconsistent. Others seemed to follow a similar pattern.

“It showed yesterday: Ortenblad, Skyler Trujillo (Boo Bicycles), and Josh Johnson (Bissell-ABG), all those guys, including Dillman, were in Europe and those were the four guys with varying degrees of success,” said Gullickson. “But that time, and Geoff Proctor’s (EuroCrossCamp), proved itself out there (Saturday). Those were the guys that rose above.”

And what of Cody Kaiser (Cal Giant), who has two previous world championship appearances on his resume? That prior experience may help his cause, but the past doesn’t guarantee a selection this time around.

“He’s got that, but I can’t say if he’s going to be on the team or not,” said Gullickson. “You would think that him racing that many world championships, and having that experience, we would have seen that yesterday but… I think he knew that yesterday was important for his selection.”

Projected U23 men’s roster:
Zach McDonald, Rapha-Focus
Andrew Dillman, Bob’s Red Mill
Tobin Ortenblad, Cal Giant-Specialized
Skyler Trujillo, Boo Bicycles
Josh Johnson, Bissell-ABG

Junior men 17-18

Logan Owen (Redline) and Curtis White (Hot Tubes) have automatically qualified based on their World Cup results and both have realistic shots at the podium in Louisville. Beyond that, the junior men are difficult to predict — and select.

“The juniors are a tougher selection,” said Gullickson. “No three juniors clearly made it, easy.”

There are only four selection races for the juniors: the two Trek U.S. Gran Prix stops in Louisville, Kentucky, and the two in Bend, Oregon. The USA Cycling selection committee will have made the roster choices based on these races, combined with results from the European camp and nationals. But the task has been made difficult by the inconsistencies in results by each of the riders in the mix.

“Some of them had good selection races and poor European races, or good nationals and vice versa. So, none of them were lined up consistently when you track it all, ‘Oh, they’re the best, best, best,’” said Gullickson. “There are too many, and it’s too close to name. There are probably six or seven for the three spots that we have to discuss with the selection committee.”

Nationals only confused the matter. A crash in the starting straight took out many in the field, including some of those in the mix for the worlds team.

“Unfortunately, there was a crash at the start of the junior race because I know there were a couple of good guys who were involved in that, but we don’t have a clause in the selection that says if there’s a crash we’ll consider your lap times — it’s just off of your finish place,” said Gullickson. “And I’m not even going to go there with the long list because it’s too close to call.”

Usually the final selection process would take place over the course of a week, with Gullickson sharing his choices with the committee, who would then have time to process and evaluate his selections. But with so few days between nationals and worlds, the schedule is shortened considerably.

“The turnaround on this is pretty tight, but usually it comes down to that final spot, or final couple spots in the case of the juniors. The elites are easier. If it’s an easy selection, it means that trends continue, which is nice when you’re selecting a team like this,” said Gullickson.

Projected junior men’s roster:
Logan Owen, Redline
Curtis White, Hot Tubes
Peter Goguen, C.F. Racing
Maxx Chance, Cliff Bar Development
Nathaniel Morse, Hot Tubes

VeloNews.com editor Brian Holcombe and contributor Emily Zinn contributed to this report.

From the pages of Velo: Trust in their fellow man

Chris Case — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 10:00:18 +0000

Velo September 2012. Photo by Cor Vos
Editor’s note: As we ring out 2012, we look at 12 of our favorite stories of the year. Chris Case’s account of a day on a press motorcycle in the flotilla that surrounds the Tour de France first appeared in the September 2012 issue of Velo magazine.

If a Kawasaki motorbike is 36 inches wide, from mirror tip to mirror tip, then we were careening into a gap that was only 32. Our mirrors were forced to fold; by instinct, fearing the worst as the cars closed together, I left one big paw print on the window of the Mavic neutral support vehicle to our right. Like two ships gliding together and drifting apart as they crested waves, the narrowing canyon between the yellow Skoda and the silver Skoda, the voiture officielle of the Tour de France, just as quickly parted, and the whining Kawasaki, kicked into a lower gear by its pilot, Francois Meylan, sped away with not a hint of panic.

Welcome to the Tour: the peloton, the caravan, the dance.

There is a pool of motorcycles that will take journalists on course during their stage of choice; I chose to follow the peloton through the rolling Vosges, stage 7 of the 2012 Tour de France from Tomblaine to La Planche des Belles Filles.

When you’re cruising in front of the officials’ cars, the photographers’ motorcycles, the gendarme, the riders, the team cars, and the serpentine flock of support vehicles and motos, ahead of the race but along the closed course, your eyes fall on the details of the scenery: the fans along the roadside who wave at everything that skates past; the innumerable portraits of fans, young and old, framed in the windows and doorways of the rustic homes and stucco buildings that line so many miles of French country road; the occasional band-aided finger or bruised knee; the endless string of cathedrals, beacons of the long-forgotten faithful.

Once beyond the course’s neutral rollout through the village of Tomblaine, we were able to pause by the roadside and let the breakaway du jour scream by. Then, after letting the mobile service course of team cars and neutral support vehicles pass, we jumped in behind, looking to bridge the gap and snake through the entire convoy once again, just to have a look.

We then cruised the open road for 19 minutes (yes, I timed), using the power of the combustion engine to break away. Accelerating out of turns with ludicrous ease, shimmying on the chipseal in the snaking descents, and cresting the rolling countryside lumps without breaking a sweat, it seemed like we would soon be having a roadside picnic, fromage et jambon undoubtedly. We found another spot to dart off-course, but Francois failed to kill the engine. I looked back to see that the breakaway riders — the collective human-powered engine that could — were just over a minute behind (yes, I timed again). I was awestruck — human horsepower, churning over the contoured landscape of the French Haute Saône, relentless, even over the countless curvatures and bends.

But it wasn’t until we drifted all the way behind the peloton and its armada that the real dance began. Imagine 200 geese, with 22 Cessnas and a fleet of sundry other aircraft drifting behind them, flying through a tube no more than 20 feet in diameter.

The Tour never stops, it rarely slows down, but it always comes close to catastrophe. Or so it seems.

If I said the dance of the flotilla, of the 40 cars behind the race, was played out at 80km per hour, behind a flock of geese, on roads that Americans would find inconveniently thin, while motorcycles of all kinds, like annoying bees hovering around a moving honey pot, darted this way and that, with nary an inch to spare, you probably wouldn’t believe me. But then I’d just refer you back to that opening scene, the one where we were almost crushed at speed.

This thing, this frenetic mixture of metal and muscle, can dance.

And that’s what brings us to the glue that holds it all together: trust.

You don’t ride your bike in a group ride on the weekend without a certain amount of trust. Multiply that by 1,000, and that’s the amount of trust that goes into every aspect of this race. The peloton, careening down the road at 60kph, delicately balancing Sunday morning calm with the focus of a stalking cat, absorbing what they can see as much as what they can’t — the distance between your tire and the next, the skinned elbows beside you, closing and opening brake calipers, whispers, or shouts, in French, Italian, and Spanish, the roasted smell of carbon — they can only do this if they put great trust in their fellow man. There is no other way. And the trust must be complete.

Case in point: when that trust is interrupted — by a shift in the winds just when a sprinter is passing his shoe covers to his domestique and whose one-handed handling skills can’t keep him from running up the derailleur of the rider in front of him — you have the makings of a monumental crash. Such is the crumpling of a symbiotic beast: when one goes down, they all go down.

Though the real cause may never be known, rumor has it that this very scenario played out at the Tour’s stage 6 horror, the Massacre in Metz, that eliminated almost a half dozen riders by sunset, and another half dozen before the next stage’s first nature break.

Without trust, the peloton doesn’t pull back a breakaway at an astonishing, vehicular-like rate. With trust, the peloton can fall victim to “Ring Around the Rosie” — we all fall down. Without trust, the caravan of cars sees insurance premiums go through the roof because of daily pile-ups. With trust, the dance gets smoother and sweeter, tantalizing in its potential calamity, seductive in its intimacy.

The Tour de France is like a beautiful tango in many ways; behind every mesmerizing ballroom performance is the choreography — trust in the rhtyhm of your mutual movements. And the best way to find out if you can trust someone? Trust them.

Velo North American Woman and International Women’s Climber of the Year: Evelyn Stevens

Chris Case — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 13:01:45 +0000

Velo January 2013. Photo by Casey B. Gibson | www.cbgphoto.com
Editor’s note: The January 2013 issue of Velo magazine, which is on newsstands now, is our 25th annual awards issue. Our 2012 Cyclist of the Year was announced on November 29; we’ll be rolling out various other award winners throughout the month of December.

North American Woman, International Women’s Climber of the Year: Evelyn Stevens

Evelyn Stevens used to be known as the cyclist who dropped a career in investment banking to focus on professional cycling. Now, she should be known as the cyclist who dropped Marianne Vos — the queen of cycling and one of the most dominant and skilled cyclists, male or female, in history — on her way to her first World Cup victory at Flèche Wallonne Femmes. She outfoxed Vos up the storied Mur de Huy climb to claim the first win by an American woman in the race.

“This is my most exciting win ever, easily. I never thought I would be in Flèche Wallonne, let alone win it someday,” Stevens said.

By now, her story is well known. In 2008, her job with the bankrupt Lehman Brothers could pay no better than cycling, and Stevens made the jump. She started racing with a local club in New York City, and in 2009 Stevens won both the Cascade Cycling Classic and the Fitchburg Longsjo Classic while guest riding for domestic teams. A pair of national TT titles followed.

This year, however, was different. A move to Boulder, Colorado, where she trained with housemate Taylor Phinney and his riding mates, helped improve both her fitness and her handling skills. In February, riding for the U.S. national team, Stevens, 29, won the five-stage Tour of New Zealand; in April she won Flèche and the four-stage Gracia-Orlova in Italy; in May, she won the inaugural Exergy Tour in Idaho.

But it was her performances at the Giro Donne and the world championships that turned heads. In stage 3 of the women’s Giro, Stevens soloed home for a 12-second victory, snatching the pink jersey from Vos in the process. Though Vos would grab it back — she would take five of the nine stages, along with the points competition jersey — the Massachusetts native claimed third overall.

Stevens saved some of her best for last. In August she won two stages and the overall at La Route de France, and in September, just one week before the world championships in Valkenburg, she finished second overall, to Vos, at the oddly-named Brainwash Ladies Tour of Holland.

In Valkenburg, Stevens again showed her class. The newly reinstated team time trial saw her Specialized-lululemon storm to a gold medal on the opening day of competition. And to cap off her exceptional season, the always-smiling Stevens claimed a silver medal in the individual time trial, just like her housemate, Phinney. If it hadn’t been for the mastery of Germany’s Judith Arndt, who crested the top of the Cauberg 33 seconds faster in her farewell victory, Stevens would have had a second gold medal.

Still, a silver medal ain’t too shabby for a third-year pro. — CHRIS CASE

Velo International Men’s Climber of the Year: Joaquim Rodriguez

Chris Case — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 18:21:10 +0000

Velo January 2013. Photo by Graham Watson | grahamwatson.com
Editor’s note: The January 2013 issue of Velo magazine, which is on newsstands now, is our 25th annual awards issue. Our 2012 Cyclist of the Year was announced on November 29; we’ll be rolling out various other award winners throughout the month of December.

International Men’s Climber of the Year: Joaquim Rodríguez

He floats like a butterfly. He’s about the size of a bee.

The petite Joaquim Rodríguez not only climbed his way to victory in stage after stage at both the Giro d’Italia and Vuelta a España, he scrambled to the top step of the podium in the UCI WorldTour rankings.

It was a season of firsts for the Spaniard. He captured his first Ardennes classic, rocketing up the Mur de Huy to win Flèche Wallone after having come second the past two seasons, behind the untouchable Philippe Gilbert in 2011, and reigning world champion Cadel Evans in 2010. With its 9.3 percent average grade, the Mur de Huy is a climb tailor-made for the 5-foot-6, 125-pound Rodríguez.

Prior to that, Rodríguez had won two stages atop short, but very steep climbs, to finish second overall at April’s Tour of the Basque Country. It was a dress rehearsal of what was to come throughout his long and bountiful season.

May’s Giro d’Italia saw Purito dancing again, albeit to a different tune. In a fight for grand tour glory against his physical opposite — the tall, lanky, mellow Ryder Hesjedal — the fiery Katusha rider would capture two more stages up steep finishing pitches, gain valuable time bonuses on other key climbing stages, and climb into the race lead as the duel raged. Ultimately, he would succumb to the Canadian, but it wasn’t without dramatic, fantastical efforts in the mountains of Italy. His consolation prize? He captured the points classification from Mark Cavendish with his efforts up the Passo dello Stelvio.

Come August, the indomitable Rodríguez was back for another chance at grand tour supremacy, this time at the Vuelta. Proving that he had tactical acumen to accompany his climbing prowess, after three days of brutal climbing in the rural, rugged Cantabrian mountains, Rodríguez had neutralized or counterattacked race favorite Alberto Contador to widen his lead. But, then, the most dramatic day of racing in 2012 (see page 50) would change everything. On an intermediate stage that seemed the last place a miracle could happen, Contador rolled the dice to snatch the Vuelta from Purito’s grasping hands. He would finish third, dejected and philosophical, saying, “Maybe I will never win a grand tour.”

But still he was not done. In a display of determination and longevity — he had been racing since March — Rodríguez captured the Giro di Lombardia in late September, becoming the first Spanish rider to win the Italian monument in the race’s century-long history.

“This is the victory of my life,” Rodriguez said. “It caps a perfect year.”

And, so, the diminutive Spaniard climbs into the record books as the best rider of 2012, at least on points.

From the pages of Velo: The Art of Cyclocross

Chris Case — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 13:19:03 +0000

Velo October 2012. Photo: Wil Matthews | VeloNews.com
Editor’s note: This cyclocross skills article originally appeared in the October 2012 issue of Velo magazine.

Every sport has its fundamentals; cyclocross is no different. You need a certain level of fitness, handling skills, technique, and equipment to ride and race. And once you start racing, you’re certain to want to go faster. Many people seem to over-think the crucial elements of this thriving niche of cycling, overwhelming themselves with the details rather than focusing on the simplicity that is cyclocross.

But keeping it simple helps keep things smooth, and smooth riding — fluid interactions with the bike, course, and riders around you — is what will propel you most quickly to that next level.

Once you have the basics of mounting and remounting down and you’re up to speed on shouldering and portaging, once you’ve pieced together or purchased your ride, you’re ready to get fluid — and get faster.

Find your float

Often ignored or neglected by those people just getting started (or those focusing on their interval training or power meter data), bike skills and handling are some of the most important elements in cyclocross racing. Imagine if you could put time into your opponents in every corner of a race, or at every crux element, barrier, or sand pit; even if the gain was small, over the course of a race it would all add up to big gaps.

Go for long rides on your ’cross bike, tackling ever harder terrain as you gain the confidence to take on even the roughest of singletrack. The objective is to learn to “float” by finding the smoothest way over the bumps by riding light, picking the best line, shifting your weight effortlessly as you nimbly find your way through the obstacles. If you can get to the point where you aren’t pinch flatting on every ride, then you’ve gained skills, consciously or not, that you can put to good use on the ’cross course. The race terrain will likely be a bit tamer, but the obstacles will come at you much faster.

Another way to work on your fluidity is to set up or find a course with a mixture of mellow and technical aspects. Do repeated laps on the course, hitting the technical areas at race pace; relax during the mellow sections. Then, continue to up your pace through the difficult sections until you’re hitting them as fast as you can, faster than you would deal with them while in a race; again, take it mellow in the easy sections. Your objective, of course, is to dial in the difficult parts at extreme speed so that when you get to such a section in a race, cross-eyed and chest heaving, your rhythm won’t be thrown.

Make it routine

A successful season comes from having steady performances over the span of many months. Dependability in your results comes from consistent preparation and practice, which will help turn the tension of race day into a calming routine. You may have to experiment and take notes on your first few races if you’re new to the sport, but once you find a routine that works, use that method to bring good results from race routine. The things that can be controlled, should be: when to eat prior to your race (usually two to three hours), when to register, how long you need to dial in the course and look for the best lines, how long you need to warm up and make last minute bike tweaks. The routine doesn’t end once the race commences. If you’ve inspected the course well, you’ve dialed in your preferred line throughout the course, and also found those alternate lines you may need to work when first lap traffic — or lapped riders — change your rhythm.

Under pressure

When you first open your car door at a local cyclocross race, you’re bound to hear two things: the clank of cowbells and the question of what tire pressure you think you’ll be running. Yes, tire pressure is important to cyclocross. In fact, it may be more important than tire choice in many cases. But, because every rider and bike combination is a different weight, because every tire has different characteristics at different pressures (not to mention that tubulars can be safely run at much lower tire pressures than clinchers without risking a pinch flat), and because every rider has a different level of “float” in his skills repertoire, the question of what tire pressure someone else is running has little to no bearing on what you need to run. A better way to find the right pressure is to find out for yourself. Start high and ride the course, dropping your pressure until you’ve found that right combination of supple tire feel with enough pressure so as not to bottom out on every
ripple in the earth.

Red light, green light

Once you’ve dialed in your bike and the course, it’s time for the ever-crucial start. A cyclocross race is no Leadville 100; you don’t have eight hours to pass the sea of riders in front of you. But you do have time enough to manage your initial effort so that an hour feels like an hour, rather than a five-minute torture session followed by a 55-minute heart attack. As much as you should practice your start — everything from the initial pedal stroke, clipping in fast, and ramping up smoothly through the gears — you should practice your recovery, to find where you can take yourself physiologically so that you can recuperate and remain ready for repeated violent accelerations later in the race, while still remaining upright. Take yourself to the red zone, but don’t fall into it. Practice your start and then keep going relatively hard, like you would want to do in a race; you’ll be more familiar with that red zone threshold, and be able to recognize where green ends and red begins.

Managing editor Chris Case earned silver medals at both the 2012 U.S. cyclocross national championships and world championships in the master’s 35-39 division.