Rouge Roubaix

The story of Rouge-Roubaix hasn't came out yet because I wasn't sure how to approach it. It is hard to be happy because I am realizing my capabilities and feel proud of myself while at the same time be so frustrated and sad. No, this isn't the start of some terrible pop song. This is the story of Rouge-Roubaix and how it changed me as a cyclist.

The great thing about my new job is I don't work on the weekends. So I decided on the Tuesday before that I would go down to Rouge and kill/destroy/potentially end up crying. I knew I wanted to race the 3/4 race (4/5 was an option) and I knew I needed to go hard for 104 miles. I hadn't done any training rides over about 75 so far this year and knew that this was going to be a pretty gnarly day for me. I figured with my fitness, bike handling skills, and general frustration from my last road race would fuel me to around mile 90, then I could figure the rest out. I couldn't find anyone from MB/BPC that wanted to go down and race so Andrea decided she would come with me. She figured it would be a good day on the bike that would help prep her for the rest of the season.

We drove down on Saturday with the race being Sunday morning. We drove straight down, went to the course, and went to do a pre-ride. My nerves were getting to me and I generally freaked out during the preride. I was having a hard time riding the gravel, was getting beat up, and generally was not a happy camper. When we hit the second gravel section to preview the biggest hill of the race, which has a $100 KOM prize at the top for each race, I cried. We rode through 30 or so yards of 4'' deep sand, then we rode down this huge hill that had a 3/4'' layer of sand on the surface. It was time to flip a U and go back race direction. I couldn't ride the hill. In all of my life I had never encountered a hill I couldn't ride, but this was a huge bitch. The sand meant I was going slow, slow as hell actually. The layer of sand added in meant that as I stalled out and tried to turn to stay up, my front wheel would dig in and I would stop, falling over.

As a 25 year old, hot shot mountain biking, single speeding, fuck everyone I can do anything rider this destroyed me. I sat down in the middle of the road and cried. I had told myself I was going to do well at this race and that I would be fine with anything thrown at me and hear I was, feeling delusional about my ability. It was like this big hill in Louisiana kicked my face in. The next problem was trying to get going again. I hate my Speedplay pedals. I have trouble clipping in when leaving my cove for a road ride, let alone trying to do a flying remount on a steep hill covered in sand. I was destroyed, broken, and wanting to go home.

Once over the top of the hill, back through the sand from hell, back to the car I wanted to throw up, fly home in a helicopter, and never ride my bike again. We went to the race hotel and found out they had rooms open so I cancelled my room at the other hotel and we loaded into the room.  After wrestling with my inner demons and getting over the idea of getting raging drunk and not racing the next day I calmed down. Turns out whatever cable TV they had at the hotel played a marathon of some show that should have been called "Holy Shit-Balls These Are The Cutest Animals Ever" but it was really called "So Cute" or something. Anyways, after a 2.5 hour brainwash of a show that has personified kittens and puppies playing with each other as they grow from birth to around 4 months I was calmed down some. I fell asleep.

Race morning was awesome,  I didn't throw up on myself and I did my best "I should be here" by lining up in the second row behind Tim Moore of 901Racing and a guy who used to live in Memphis and moved away. The neutral rollout was very neutral. I started eating early and stayed calm. I knew that Tim Moore would be good. I was planning to follow him as long as I could. We hit the first gravel and it was like a bunch of roadies, hopped up on coffee and testosterone, just turned road bikes onto a gravel road. . . wait. They did. Bikes and people cussing everywhere.  Some guy did the worlds worst remount and swerved into me, so I yelled on your left as he swerved and made use of all 150 of my pounds in order to stay upright. There was a little break, but I knew the feedzone was after this long, long gravel section. I knew I could catch the stragglers of the front group so I stayed on it as hard as I could. Strong guys who had wrecked or gotten caught up kept coming through, but they also were jack-offs who couldn't corner on gravel. I wasn't strong enough to ride away from them but I kept feeling jammed up in any turn or anywhere that needed some turning, jiving, not hitting holes.

Some more people wrecked and I t-boned a guy, didn't go down, just full stop, unclip, start over.  I was pissed. I had driven all the way down here and I was going to get dropped in the first gravel. Nope. I caught on to the back of the lead group near the end of the gravel and popped out on the road with a bunch of people I thought were a ton faster than me.

We went pretty steady for a while, everything was cool. We hit the big hill at mile 68 and I was still with the lead group of 3/4 men. Things broke loose, some people rode all the way, some people ran, some people wrecked in front of me. I ended up being in the chase group for a good long while. I got dropped when I tried to pee while on the back. They didn't wait for me.

I made it 4.5hr mark and was feeling geat. Then the wheels started falling off. I was tired, I was dropped from the chase group that formed after the big hill, and I wanted to be done. I kept seeing people come through, I would hop on and try to go with them for a while. I ran into the issue of people in my 3/4 field working with the leaders of the Masters field that started after us and getting towed by. I kept working hard, and I finished strong. After I stopped I found a Coke, was standing around wondering when the women would finish/if I should go to the hotel and shower or if Andrea would be back in a second.

The director comes over to me "Are you Matt McCawwwlee" I said  "Yeah" he says I swear to God "Your friend Andrea was hit by a car, she is still talking though, she is at the hospital" So I pound my Coke, get all the info about hospital location, all kinds of contact info and accident info, turned my Garmin off without saving (it auto shut down because it had been stopped a long time, which would later malfunction and lose all of my data from my biggest race with powermeter), and haul ass to the hospital on my bike.

Turns out she was mostly ok, I had to ride back to the hotel, get cleaned up, I lost my shit when someone had taken my wheels out of the truck and their slow ass wasn't back yet. I mean fully lost it. I said something to the tune of "Some stupid asshole took my wheels out of the truck and I have to wait around to find them before I drive home. My friend was hit by a fucking car during the race so I really don't have time for this stupid shit. I need my wheel right fucking now I have to go" and boom, 3 minutes later my wheel turned up. I didn't fake nice. I just took it off his bike and left. The women's wheel truck wasn't back yet and I found a nice lady who took my number and called me when the wheel truck came in.

It was a long and rainy drive back to Memphis. We left Louisiana 5 hours later than anticipated (had to find all the wheels, discharge from the hospital, go to the police station). It was after midnight when we got home.

Looking back at the results I was 30th overall, 8th Cat 4. I am pleased with that result very well. It just sucks that my friend got hit by a car. I will go back next year, just not with Andrea.

Ouachita: Race Day

Race morning I was a full on shit-show of nerves and lack of social skill. I am realizing that as I become more nervous I become much less social. After eating a few bites of oatmeal, nearly throwing up on Carter and Damian when they joined us for breakfast, and doing my morning business I changed, lined up, and decided that the race was all up to me.

Single speed, road rollout. I lined up at the front, hung on at my pace as long as I could, stole drafts from most of the race as it rolled by, and eventually it turned to gravel.  I had to tell Sir Geared there was no way I would let him pull me down the road by holding his hand. Fucker. I don't know what is worse: He thought I needed help or some sorry sacks of shit actually let people pull them during a race. I wasn't rude to him. I told him "I will do this by myself" and kept spinning. I digress for the moment.

There were some low water crossings people wanted to go real slowly through and I kept pushing my pace, the road started to roll, and suddenly there was a huge line of people 2 abreast up the road ahead of me in their granny gear. I kept doing what I was doing until we turned a corner and the road turned up. I dug in a little and went hard to pass as many people as possible before the single track started. I was out of the saddle doing my best "I'm not even breathing hard" face when I pass Sir Geared and said "I told you I would do it myself". I never saw Sir Geared again.

In the single track I yelled at people I knew to have a good time, yelled at one group of guys that wouldn't respond to my requests to pass. I get it, we are racing. But we are racing different categories and you are using your granny gear at mile 7 of 60. I am sitting behind you asking nicely to pass. I will cuss at you and run past in the bushes. With my dickhead move of the race out of the way I kept doing my thing.

At some point Andrea flatted so I passed her. She caught me a while later and we rolled near each other for a while. We hit the road and she used her fancy shifting parts to go more than 14mph and I did my best to not spin too fast on the road. I over ate going into the feedzone and then started to feel sick. I had went out a little harder than I needed to. I was running a pretty safe gear on the single speed but it was a little too much on the climbs. I tried to ride everything, I know I don't do well when I have to walk a lot so I just stayed on the bike and stayed cruising the best I could. I wasn't feeling that great. I was starting to have a bad time.

I got my stomach under control (which was great, I had never recovered from that before) and started plugging at the rest of the course. The guys from Arkansas Outside told me I was the man of the day because I was rigid and singlespeed. I told them I felt like the idiot of the day. I may have felt better but there is photographic proof that I looked at least twice as bad as usual.

I did my best to finish strong. Another single speeder had caught me about 6 miles from the finish. He had pipped me in the last few miles of Syllamo in 2012. We chatted about the day, how we both rode rigid single speeds, how the weather had been nice all day - no rain but not much sun, how his bike was pretty cool. I had been slowing him down and resting well. We were out of the single track and all gravel at this point. I knew we had a few more miles to go. . . so I attacked as hard as I could when we hit a roller. Full bore, high cadence, up and over the hill balls out sprint fest. I saw he wasn't giving up so I sat up a little to make a turn. The course marshall said "3/4 mile climb" and he said "I don't care about our placing" I said "I am going hard to the line" and proceeded to go full bonkers til I got to the finish. Including the last little climb to the finish where I went hard as I could and put myself about 1 knob in front of a geared rider.

All in all a great weekend, great learning experience. I didn't hit all of my hopeful goals but met some of my realistic ones. I am taking this year as a chance to gain racing experience and become more comfortable racing so I can hopefully do even better next time.

Popping my Ouachita Challenge cherry.

This isn't my first race of the year, but we will get to those in a little while. This is the most recent race because it just happened yesterday so I will give my best description of the race. I raced my brand new Specialized Carve SL single speed, set up nearly how it came out of the box. I promise, I will get to that too. So, here goes.

So, Friday after work I took my brand new, never been ridden bike out for a short spin. I rode it around for about 50 minutes and just got a feel for how it wheelies. I came home, drank a beer, decided I needed to wash clothes, and got going packing up for the race on Sunday. I got a little bit of my stuff ready but I knew we weren't leaving until 10:30 or so on Saturday so I took it easy Frdiay night. Saturday morning I got up, packed most of my stuff up, cleaned out Andrea's car so we could drive to Arkansas and shred some gnar.

We got to Arkansas after much driving in the car. If you haven't seen it head over to Brickhouse Racing and check out how much fun your next trip will be if I get to tag along. Once in Arkansas I immediately started shredding the pump track and getting a little too loose on the pump track. The pump track is great, except I can do two hard laps and be blowing through the turns feeling my front tire try to roll off the rim. The bmx days of 60psi in a front tire have taught me to expect a little bit more bite and consistency in my front end than a 20psi 29er tire will ever offer.

After goofing off a bit, setting up camp, and me acting like I wasn't nervous we changed to go for a "preride" of sorts. It wasn't really a preride because we didn't touch the race course but we did ride some similar trail so I would know what to expect in the morning. We ripped a little, took it pretty easy (as easy as you can on a single speed in the hills), and went back to camp. After some replenishing of supplies and picking up our packets (because that's what you do at packet pickup) it was time to eat dinner and call it a night. Sleeping in a tent that almost touches the ground, while being cold, and listening to dogs bark through ear plugs is a bad time. Take my word.

The rest will have to come later. Now is time forJust Riding Along

Where have I been?

Lots have changed since the last time we talked.

Basic rundown:

I decided a long time ago (18-24) I needed a new job. I came to this realization when I decided I wanted to not work weekends, have nice things, and start a retirement fund. I started working towards that goal talking to people who I trusted and who I thought could help me. I started working every angle I could to keep myself in the bike industry. I had looked into jobs that were technical reps and demo drivers. It seemed like everyone I talked to had a hurry up and wait policy. People who worked for hiring agencies lying to me and telling me they worked for the company I was applying for....not cool. Lots of waiting. I started talking to people outside of the industry and was given some of the best advice ever from a guy who is about my age. He told me that people in our age group had fallen into the ill informed belief that we should love our job. He told me he did his job so he could do what he loved: hang out with his wife and ride his bike.

I started talking to other people, getting advice from professionals that I know to see what they would recommend. After talking to a few people and keeping them updated with what I had going on I started to get a few leads. . . not. I had a guy approach me and he asked me if I thought I could sit at a desk. I said maybe. He said let's try. I got a new job  working as a customer service rep at a grand format printing business here in Memphis. So far it has been great. I get to work Monday-Friday with minimal travel. I have only worked one Saturday this year.

Things have been going pretty great so far. I have swapped some bike stuff around, I have gotten some new parts, a new mountain bike, some new shoes, a new helmet. I digress. I am saying since we last talked I have gotten loads of great new stuff. Not all since my new job started.

I started my new job right before Thanksgiving and I can say without a doubt I am much happier doing that. Not that a bike shop is bad. I am not saying that at all. I am saying that this schedule, this type of stimulation, and the ability to get in my car Friday night and go race without asking anyone's permission to go race the weekend. It wasn't that it was THAT hard, it is just the fact that Wednesday I can decide to race on Saturday and not put anyone in a bind.

Now that I am settled in at my new job and getting things going, I am starting to get out and do some stuff and will have some good adventures to write about on a very regular basis.

Faithfully yours,

Beanpole.

Winning and stuff.

So I haven't written in a while because I have been busy putting some real work in and doing a great job.

Legends of Stank XC: Raced Men's Cat 2 15-29
I used Ryan's full suspension Titus Racer-X 29er with Andrea's lightweight aluminum wheelset. I had done a few hot laps leading up to the race and felt like I could finish in the top 4-5. I warmed up well and was feeling great. We all lined up and GO! it was all out. I hadn't raced a XC race in a long time and forgot how hard it could start. I made sure to follow this fast looking guy who dove into the woods first and within 4 minutes it was a light pack behind us. I didn't like the way the leader was riding so I ended up passing him and leading for a little more than a lap. Near the end of the first lap I got tired of hearing everyone behind me talking like Chatty-Kathy's started dropping the hammer hard. I turned it up and didn't really let off. They stopped talking but it was bonker's fast. About 1/3 of the way through the 2nd and last lap Dylan Vance blasted past me on the left and never let up. I chased him for a second and realized it was dumb to ride that hard. I knew we were too far from the finish to be riding at that pace for me personally and I backed off. I let the other guy who was with us around to chase and they never came back. I put in a really solid effort and had a great time. I couldn't have ridden that fast without being loaned a bike and I wouldn't have pushed myself that hard without the help of my friends in the last few months helping me realize my abilities. Fun tid-bit: my average heart rate for the 1:33 race was 182bpm.

Cirque Du Velo Circuit Race
I overslept and was too cocky. I went out stupid hard and got dropped from the main group and pulled from the race by the officials. This really pissed me off. I knew better than that. I knew better than to go out that hard. The breaks from the gun never stick in Cat4. Why in the Hell did I chase? Because I am an idiot. The worst mistakes are the best learning lesson. I will say lesson learned. Chip placed on shoulder.

Riverside Classic XC
With a big chip on my shoulder and a stomach full of anger I decided to go race Riverside XC. The course was supposed to be rocky and gnarly. I said "OK". It was supposed to be hot. I said "Good". It was supposed to be 15 miles for the SS race. I said "Whatever, that's a sprint". I was really looking to get some vengeance and redemption from my previous weekend of riding like a Cat5 triathlete.

I rode with Andrea over to Little Rock the night before. We showed up to the wrong La Quinta in Little Rock, looped around the block twice and ended up at the other La Quinta less than 4 miles from where we had been. If that gives you an idea of how bad the traffic right there was. La Quinta was like "People want to stay here but gosh, this is hard to navigate. Hell, let's build another over there." I digress.

Woke up, had breakfast at Starbucks, get to the race, run around like an idiot, get ready to race, line up. There are 10 people in the single speed race and they started us behind a few too many of the Cat 2 age groupers. I think we were supposed to start behind the 19-29 but ended up behind the 29-39 guys. That was a little bit of a suck.

The race started with a paved, non-neutral start. One guy says "I guess we won't have a sprinting match with these single speeds on the road" and I bit my tongue pretty hard. I have been trying to not be a cocky little shit and spout off at the mouth all the time. When the man said GO! I started to spin. I eased up on the nose of my saddle and spun pretty hard. At the first little rise in the road I did my best to keep my cadence up and maintain my speed. Maybe some others didn't follow suit. When we hit the bigger hill I tried to do a mild attack out of the saddle and kill the hill. At the top of the hill it was time to dive into the woods. A guy snaked the long way around a tree and dove into the woods first. I watched him for a minute and he was bobbling and panting and hurting - he was riding outside of his ability. As soon as the trail turned up I rode around him and dropped the hammer hard. I didn't hear any one cussing or scrambling to come with me from deeper in the pack so I kept the spurs in myself and really laid it out for a few minutes. I hadn't preridden the trail at all so I didn't know anything to expect. The trail is great and usually sensible. The fast parts stayed fast and the slow parts got tight and twisty. I almost wrecked trying to pass a guy from a race that started ahead of mine. He was listening to his phone on full blast in the top of his camelbak so he couldn't hear me yelling "single speed leader, single speed leader wanting to pass" so I said "hey on your right, right now" as I stormed through the bushes and ended up losing my front wheel in the leaves. I got off, ran around him who was very startled, and ran for about 20 yards up the trail. I was pretty frustrated but he was still stuck in his granny gear listening to Nickelback or something so I got over it pretty quick.

I started the second lap and started bumping my rim on the ground every once-in-a-while. I kept riding hard, but only uphill. I would destroy the uphills and then conserve downhill trying to not whack my rim on the ground. I hadn't used my own air pump and trusted the gauge like it was mine. I just didn't have enough pressure. It didn't show up til the second lap when I was getting comfortable and really letting it hang out on the trail. About 400 yards from the finish line the most awful clanging noise occurred. I was ripping down the last 3 straightaways before the finish and I ripped a huge hole in my rear tire. Handfuls of front brake and a good bit of cussing allowed me to make the first turn. At this point I realize I need to make one more turn, cross the road, then ride smooth grass in to the finish. I leaned all my weight forward and eased down to the last turn and creep through the turn. The guys at the road called clear and I eased my way out over the lip of the road and then off the other side. I probably had around 5psi in my rear tire so I sat on the nose of my seat and pedaled hard across the line. First win in the books with a decently cool story, needless to say I was pumped.


I am appreciative of the help and support that is given to me along the way. I do my best to help get the HBStache Jersey on the podium when I am riding offroad. My BPC/MB team mate Jonathon has been doing a ton of work giving me training advice and helping me to understand how to achieve my goals. Ryan and Andrea are nice enough to let me live with them which in turn allows me to afford racing my bike. All in all it takes a ton of nice people for me to line up at a race. Thanks to everyone. Hopefully it will keep getting better.

I draw the line at solids

So over the last few weeks I have really picked up the amount of time I have spent on the bike. I have always had a hard time trying to figure out how to ride, how often to ride, and what to expect from that riding. I recently worked out an agreement with a friend to get some advice on using my time on the bike to be more beneficial to my goal of becoming a better cyclist.

Rewinding to early Christmas time I happened to find PowerTap hubs were all on closeout due to the eventual launch of their new G3 line of hubs. The price may not have been just right, but I knew that I would never get the same deal on a reputable power measuring device again so I jumped at the chance. Up until about two weeks ago I had been using it half-heartedly and not really embracing the possibilities of training with power. I had done little research on my own and hadn't really tried to train myself. One person posted an ad on Facebook claiming to offer free training but it was all a game of smoke and mirrors. It was free training IF you buy a monthly subscription to this life-coaching service that is written by Helen Keller. It may not have been a life-coaching service written by Helen Keller but it was something that one would find as equally absurd.

I had spoken with a friend one a few occasions about getting some help with my sprinting. I had it in my head that I hadn't won the Hell of the South road race because I was outsprinted by a half-of-a-wheel. My friend finally explained to me that it would be much more beneficial to me if I were to work on raising my threshold. As my threshold increases I will be able to react and cover during races and be more consistently within my ability. Then because I have only been over my threshold 12 times instead of 16 I will be mo' fresher come time to sprint it out. When one sprints mo' fresher one is more likely to win said sprint. Truth. My friend offered to help me with this by adapting his workouts to meet my power ranges and time budget. Also he said he gets really tired of counting all  the $100 bills at work and needs something to do to break up his day of being a big time banker. So I created an account with Training Peaks and gave him access to my account.

The short term outcome has been: I have ridden more than I ever have before and it isn't easy. Over these last few weeks I have had to constantly reminded myself  "If being fast were easy, everyone would do it." and tried to focus on how this will help me meet my long term goals. In case you can't deduce from my previous rambling: my future goal is to be fast as shit.

According to this guy it isn't going to get easier the more I do this either. I will just go faster. And since going fast is my goal I will have to embrace this and get better at managing my time around my training.

Photos from the last year or so.

I rode Zipp 404 Firecrest wheels one day.

 

Kenny showed up how he gets down in fur

 

Thor showed us that kitties are shrimp.

Powertap hubs went on sale.

A new skatepark opened, new bmx happened.

 

I drove to Little Rock to race.

I warmed up, Bryant Funston took pics.

 

Mean turtle.

My very new, very heavy mtn bike.

Joe Royer came to a crit.

$5 chain, lockring from $300 cassette.

Mtn cruiser, 69er style.

 

Daily advice for me.

 

Found my old card while cleaning.

 

Worked with an uber-bike.

Poplar shut down.

It was a bomb threat.

My toe, post nail eradication.