Like
one who, on a lonely road,
Doth
walk in fear and dread,
And,
having once turned round, walks on,
And
turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend,
Doth close behind him tread.*
Kirkland
has become my cyclocross season opener. The course rode substantially
the same as the previous year. I did my typical cyclocross race prep:
old fashion oatmeal with nuts and berries; a thirty minute warm-up;
and GU. Works every time. However, for the first time I did forget to
check tire pressures.
I
pulled 35 millimeter file-tread gravel grinder tires off my Iron
Cross wheels the night before the Kirkland race. The
tire pump I use to inflate and seat the beads of my race tires
doesn’t have an accurate pressure gauge. “No problem, I'll top it
off tomorrow at the race” I told myself. A quarter of the way
through the first lap I jammed my wheel at an obtuse angle into the
course's grassy v-notch depression (which happened to be rock-hard
due to the lack of any significant precipitation). The result was the
sound of tire side knobs ratcheting against a fork blade with the
sensation of a tire rolling off the wheel's bead.
I
tend to obsess over things like proper tire inflation, being in the
right gear for the start and ensuring that my car doors are locked.
Evidently two of these three obsessions are somehow interconnected
within my brain. Jen and I had parked our car near the HRRT team tent
in the morning making the locking of car doors unnecessary. Not
having to lock the car doors threw my routine off enough that I
forgot to check my tire pressure. I remain dumbfounded that I didn't
notice my lack of suitable tire pressure during my warm-up. Luckily,
this particular race circuit has no root littered traverses. That's
probably why the lack of “proper” tire inflation went unnoticed
until I jammed my wheel into the v-notch. Here's
where I benefit from the virtues of racing on Stan's wheels. Stan's
wheels are hands-down the most solid wheels I've ever raced. I truly
torture my wheels. The expectations I have of my wheels are second to
no other component of my bike. Stan's are the FedEx®
of wheels, they deliver. They delivered me out of the other side of
the depression unscathed. The tire stayed on the bead for the entire
race, even though I was racing on very under-inflated tires, making
resorting to the pit bike unnecessary.
I
race by the rabbit philosophy; early in the race pick someone to pace
who challenges you to ride hard. If I happen to catch and pass, or
get dropped by my rabbit, I choose anew. In this particular race I
was fortunate. My rabbit was someone I highly admire for his cycling
abilities. I sat on his wheel for two and a half laps and studied. I
did what he did. I followed his lines and matched his cadence. My
race entry fee became the best money I've spent on personalized
cyclocross instruction.
Twice
I put a pedal onto the turf causing me to momentarily lose, without
incident, the rear of my bike. In my mind, that's a tribute to the
Colnago I race on. Ernesto
Colnago has been building bike frames since 1952 - four years before
I was born. I consider myself a beneficiary of the sixty-three years
of Italian cycling heritage that come with a Colnogo frame.
I
would have been happy to just maintain close contact with my rabbit
(who was also racing on a Colnago) to the finish. As chance would
have it, however, opportunity knocked in the forth lap, in the sand
pit. The heavy sand induced a leftward trajectory in my rabbit’s
bike, availing me of a clear inside line to take the lead with a
substantial advantage. I rode the last lap and a half exactly as I
pictured
my rabbit would have. For like
the Ancient
Mariner I dared not look back for I know my rabbit doth close behind
me tread. I was
able to keep the lead through the finish.
A
post-race tire inflation check, for posterity's sake, reveled that I
had raced with 19.1psig in the front tire and 20.9psig in the rear
tire.
More
photos at: http://www.pbase.com/j_harvey/kirkland_2015
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