Showing posts with label bicycle racing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycle racing. Show all posts

Friday, September 8, 2023

Rode Alpine Climbs Near Grenoble

In 2014, a 197.5km stage of the Tour de France ended with 
the climb from Grenoble to Chamrousse  

This weekend, I achieved one of my bicycle travel goals. It happened at the last minute, without a plan, in a series of delightful discoveries. 

That goal was to ride Tour de France climbs in the Alps or the Pyrenees before I am too old to finish a seven-to-twenty-mile climb and then ride back down. 

The view from Acrobastille, Grenoble

On Friday evening, I rode up a short, steep climb to a Acrobastille park just north of Grenoble. The steepest grade was 22%, the average grade, according to Strava was 15.6%. The road was three meters wide, less in some places, with tight switchbacks every few hundred meters. 

Cars were speeding up and down the hill toward restaurant at the park at the top of the road. A few of the hairpins were so tight that larger cars stopped and backed up a little in an effort not to hit the barriers at the edge of the road. Here is the climb on the ClimbFinder website.  

The road was painted with names of riders for most of the mid-hill steepest section. I was moving at barely over walking speed. I imagined Tour de France riders zooming past me at more than 20kmh. At the top I turned around and headed back right away. Sundown was in 15 minutes. I was glad the carbon bike I rented had disc brakes. I used them hard going into the turns on the way down. 

When I got back to the hotel room I started searching for destinations for the next day’s ride. I looked further north. I knew there was a long easy climb to the south on the long road to Alpe d’Huez, but the fabled mountain was too far for me to ride there—150km from Grenoble. (I rode Alpe d'Huez in 2000 and 2005. It was as tough as advertised.)

I decided to ride east to the ski resort at Chamrousse. It would be a five-mile ride through the city of Grenoble then a 20-mile climb: a six-mile climb on a five-percent grade, followed by a flat mile through a resort town then an eleven-mile eight-percent grade to the summit: almost 1800 meters of climb, more than a mile vertical. Chamrousse was a Tour de France climb in 2001 (time trial), 2014, and 2017.  

This sign was on the lower slop. When I saw it, I thought, 
'No chance I am violating that speed limit.'

The first climb was fine, but the second climb went from slow to slower. The long climb was in forest so I could never see more than a few hundred meters ahead. I would ride through a switchback then a kilometer of winding road, then another switchback. I was moving faster than the previous day but only just. I mostly rode 4-5mph with occasional short bursts of speed standing on the pedals going 7-8mph! 

Early on the long climb, 800 meters of altitude to go

Three miles from the top I was out of water and thinking about turning around. But I kept going and made it to the largely deserted resort at the top. I got water and a Coke and a sandwich. I was going to take pictures at the top, but I got on the bike, and it felt so good to be rolling on a flat road near the top. I was speeding along at 10mph! Then I took the downward turn toward the intersection at the top of the climb. I leaned down, shifted to the highest gear, and flew down the winding road into the forest. 

For the next 11 miles, more than 20 minutes, I sped down the eight-percent grade, braking just before the switchbacks then pedaling out. By the time I was in the village at the bottom of the first climb, my arms were aching from leaning into the handlebars while braking. The road was mostly smooth so I could swing wide going into turns and lean deeply without getting bounced by bad pavement. 

Even with 40mph wind in my ears, I could hear cars coming up and could definitely hear the motorcycles using the mountain for a high-speed thrill ride. Going into a hairpin on the way up a Suzuki FZR flew past me. The ride-white-and-blue-leather-clad rider leaned so far in the turn I heard the hockey puck on his left knee scrape the pavement for a second. He was followed by three other touring motorcycles that went progressively slower through the turn. 

Since I was going 5mph, I could judge their style as the flew past me. I saw no motorcycles on the way down. I saw several bicycle riders making their slow way up the mountain. I also saw a few cars coming up, but only once did we pass by each other in a turn. European drivers hold their lane in hairpins, and I was tight on the inside of the turn. 

At the bottom of the steep hill in the village I rolled slowly through the tourist traffic, then started down the shallower six-mile descent onto the city. The road was smooth and straight with few turns. I rode back to the Natura Velo bike shop and returned the bike. They charged me for one 24-hour day from Friday at 6:30pm to Saturday at 5pm. The guy renting the bikes was friendly and helpful. 

As I walked out of the shop, I ended the Strava trip down the mountain. I walked to a coffee shop and sipped a cappuccino while I looked at what Strava said about my trip. On both rides it is clear I am among the worst riders going uphill and the best descending. 

Of the 2,800 riders who climbed the short, steep hill to Acrobastille, I was in 2,551st place. I was second of two in my age group, 70-74. Going down the hill, I was 772nd of 2,700 riders of all ages and 1st of five riders in my age group by more than a minute. 

On the climb to Chamrousse, I was 4,467th of 4,562 riders going up. On the steep 11-mile descent that begins the road back to Grenoble I was 1,178th of 3,556 riders but #1 of 22 riders in my age group. I was a half-minute ahead of second place. The other guys on the leaderboard live in the area so it was fun to think I could compete with guys who have made many trips up and down the mountain—at least on the descent. 

Both the climb and the descent give me joy in very different ways. The climbs were so difficult I thought about quitting both. On the first I told myself it was getting dark soon and I did not want to descend after sundown. Near the top of the climb to Chamrousse I was moving so slowly that even the 5km to go sign meant I had almost an hour to ride. But I couldn’t (wouldn’t let myself) stop in either case. The 5km sign gave me some inspiration; I went just a little faster.

The last time I rode in the Alps and the Pyrenees was in 2005.  I am not sure I will ride the great climbs of France again, but I am beyond happy that I was able to ride Acrobastille and Chamrousse.

Monday, May 9, 2022

Victory Day, May 9, Is Also the Day I Broke 13 of 40 Bones


May 9 is the date Russia and several former Soviet countries celebrate victory over the Nazis.  Nazi Germany unconditionally surrendered very late on May 8 which was May 9 in Moscow, which is why the rest of the Allied nations celebrate VE Day (Victory in Europe) on May 8.  


Which meant May 9 was both very good--defeated Nazis are the best Nazis--and also very bad, because May 9 is the date of my two worst bicycle accidents.  

On May 9, 2007, I broke ten bones in a 50mph crash and flown to the hospital by MEDEVAC. The story is here. On May 9, 2020, I splintered my left elbow in a low-speed crash. The surgeon had to break my lower arm to fix my upper arm.  So a third of the forty bones I have broken, I broke on May 9 on a bicycle.  

I broke four other bones in four other bicycle crashes for a total of 17.  Cars, motorcycles, football, fights and missile explosions add up 23 for a total 40 broken bones in 69 years--fewer than one per year.

Before publishing this post, I had to listen to the news from Ukraine today.  I was worried I would hear about Russia marking the anniversary with some new atrocity.  Russian President Vladimir Putin made a speech saying the war he started against Ukraine is to defend Russia.  

The Russians staged the annual parade in Moscow to showoff their military prowess. The big display always had a hollow ring, but this year with the string of defeats Ukraine inflicted on the Russian army, this year's parade sound like a defeated boxer saying "He didn't knock me out."

If I were a superstitious guy, I would stay home and watch movies today. But I will ride with my friends. There are only 365 days in a year, and more than 25,000 days in a life as long as mine. Dates are going to repeat.  

 









Sunday, October 11, 2020

The Physics of Descending on a Bicycle




When a solo rider or a group of riders descend any hill, particularly a steep hill, why are some of the riders so much faster than others? 

The fastest descenders, whether by experience or instinct or learning, are the ones that sense or know the laws of physics and do everything they can to use them. 

When a rider descends, the motion of the bike is governed by a series of variables: 

--The grade of the hill 
--The total frontal area of the bicycle and rider 
--The air speed of the bike 
--The total mass of the bike and rider 
--Momentum: the combination of ground speed and mass 
--Spoke count of the wheels 
--Rolling resistance 

The grade of the hill is the most important variable. I have descended eight percent grades in the Alps and in the eastern US and never hit 50 mph, even after two or three miles. But I have gone 55 to 59 mph on half-mile hills with 15-20 percent grades. 
 
The frontal area of the bike and rider determines the top speed on any given grade. Wind resistance increases by the square of the speed. Double the speed, quadruple the wind resistance. At 11mph a rider is mostly pedaling to move the mass of bike and rider. To maintain 22mph, the same rider is putting 80% effort into moving air. The riders who descend the fastest, especially above 40mph put their crotch on the top tube and their sternum on the handlebars and pull their elbows and knees in. 

Related to wind resistance is air speed. I worked seventy miles east of my home for many years. I would ride to work once a month between April and September. I would wait for a day with a 20mph west wind and ride that 70 miles in under four hours, under 3.5 hours on the best days. When the wind was exactly behind me there were times it was quiet. I was going 22mph in a 20mph tail wind. My air speed was 2 mph. I was flying. 

I am the wrong size to be a bicycle racer. At nearly six feet and 185 pounds, I am 20 pounds heavier and several inches taller than many top racers. But descending, every pound is to the good, because… 

Mass plus ground speed makes momentum. The higher the speed and the greater the mass, the more force pushes the bike down the hill. When I pull out of the draft and sail past a 160-pound rider, momentum is my friend. 

One variable every rider can control is spoke count. Every revolution of the wheel, from the perspective of the wind, whips the spoke from no speed to twice the speed of the bike and back to zero. Low-spoke-count wheels with thin or bladed spokes reduce the wind resistance and the turbulence of spokes. The faster we ride, the more wind we whip through the spokes in our wheels. 

On a road bike with fully inflated 23 or 25mm tires, rolling resistance is negligible, but not zero. 

In summary, to go really fast downhill, find a steep grade, make yourself as small and narrow as you can, ride low-spoke-count wheels with fully inflated tires and hope the wind is behind you. I love going fast. My Strava KOMs are downhill, not up.


Monday, August 31, 2020

Bike Racing Embarrassment: “What a big one!”

 


 



At most bicycle races, we deal with pre-race nervousness by riding to a tree and facing away from the road or waiting in line at a Port-A-Potty.  At one of the most difficult races on the schedule in the late 90s, we had indoor plumbing. 

 

The Mount Nebo Road Race was a nine-mile lap with a more than a thousand feet of climbing per lap. Race distances were three laps for Cat 5 to nine laps for Cat 1&2 on this very hilly course in southern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

 

The race began and ended at the Marticville Elementary School.  As start times approached, racers clicked down the hallway on their cleats to a boy’s room with three old-fashioned, full-length urinals. 

 

Three urinals were bolted to the north wall. Morning light streamed in through the high windows on the east wall above the sinks. I stood in the line on the left side. There was a half-dozen men at each urinal. When my turn came, I looked down as I pulled at my bib shorts and saw a huge cockroach running around the drain. 

 

Surprised, I blurted out, “What a big one!” I had spent 11 years in the Army earlier in my life. In a millisecond I knew how dumb my remark was. I finished what I was doing and walked out. In the hallway, one of my earnest master’s racer friends said, “Neil, you shouldn’t say that.” As if that was news to me.

 

It was nearly the end of the season and I was overseas every month for work back then, so I got less kidding about my gaffe than I expected.  But I certainly know not to do running commentary on roaches in my urinal!

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Racing in Two Hours

In just over two hours I will be riding the first of two races at the National Senior Games in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  As fart as I know, I am the only current soldier participating in the games:  the minimum age to participate is 50.

I rode the course yesterday with my daughter Lisa.  My sons and I are staying with Lisa in Minneapolis where she is in grad school.

She is at her office now, but will be at the race with my sons.  Because participants FAR outnumber spectators at amateur bicycle races, I will most likely have the biggest cheering section at the game and the loudest.  Some of the riders will have a spouse on the sidelines, but they won't be yelling like my kids.

Yesterday when Lisa and I rode the course, we were talking about the corners, the other riders, where the attacks might come, how strange races are when there are no teams, and all of the specifics that are the conversation of racers.  Lisa raced bicycles form age 4 to 14 and was racing with women when she switched to cross country from bicycling.  Even ten years after her last race, she talks about racing and racing culture like she is still in the peleton.  Former players are the best fans.

Time to go and warm up.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Bike Update: Mike Zban Wins Brownstown

My friend and former coworker at Godfrey Advertising, Mike Zban, won the Brownstown Road Race yesterday.  Mike and I have been friends and riding buddies since he was hired at Godfrey not long after he graduated from college in the early nineties.  He is a strong member of the Lancaster Masters Racing Club Thru-It-All Body Shop.  Having a friend win a race is almost as good as winning itself.  Also in the race from Thru-It-All was Jan Felice another long-time friend.  Jan got knocked out of the race after for of the six 5-mile laps when another rider crashed in the turn and turned Jan rubber side up.  I was behind Jan when he crashed.  I did not crash but was off the road and could not catch back up to the main field.  I finished, but was was well back of the leaders at the end of the race.

Brownstown is a great traditional road race course and a big favorite for me.  Brownstown was the only USCF race I did in 2009--it was the race I rode in when I was home on leave.

On Sunday, I raced at the Emrick Blvd Criterium in Bethlehem PA.  The course was a smooth, fast, one-mile D-shaped loop.  Not quite flat, but a gentle uphill toward the finish and a slight downhill on the front side.  Nigel and Jacari came to the race and cheered for me on each of the 23 laps.  The race took just under an hour so they were yelling about every two minutes and fifteen seconds.  The also cheered for my five teammates in the race and for a owmen's masters race that ran simultaneously.  The boys stood on the side of the road with the family of one of the women in the race and cheered for her also.

Nigel and Jacari got to eat at Dunkin Donuts and McDonalds, so they liked the trip even with the 80-mile drive to the race.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Sam Weaver the Parisian

For the week I was in Paris, I rented a Cannondale road bike from Sam Weaver of Rando Cycles (5 rue Fernand Foureau, near the Metro stop Porte de Vincennes at the eastern edge of Paris). The Rando Boutique, next door, tel. 01 40 01 03 08, has an excellent selection of saddle bags and German bicycle accessories. 


Sam is an affable Californian who married a lovely French biochemist.  They live just a mile south of Paris in the village of Malakoff.  When he told me about living in Paris I started wondering if my wife could teach math in Paris.  It would be a great place for Nigel and Jacari to live.  France doesn't have the horrible history of slavery and segregation that America does.  The right wing in Paris hates everybody fairly equally.  But my wife is fluent in Spanish, so it is more likely she could get a job in Spain.  


Because I had a decent road bike, it was the off season and the weather was cold--the high temp every day was either just above or just below freezing--I could ride with the peletons in Bois de Boulogne. Every day from 10am until dark, a two-mile road around a horsing racing track in the southwest corner of the city is closed to traffic and open to bicycles.  In the dozen times I have been to France, there is always somebody riding this road, rain or shine, heat or cold.  


I can't wait to go back!

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Back to Racing--First Time Trial

This morning I rode the first time trial race since before deployment.  The French call this race contre la montre, against the watch.  It is my least favorite kind of racing--alone, curled up into the smallest space possible and suffering at the highest speed you can maintain. 

This time trial was short, just 11 miles.  It was very windy.  The course was South-North out and back along a road that parallels the beach on the Chesapeake Bay near Delaware City.  The wind was above 20mph with gusts out of the west.  It was a side wind in both directions sometimes turning into a brief head or tail wind when the road twisted.

It was very cold and I got up late so I did not warm up very much--about 10 minutes.  I should warm up for a half hour and some of my best results came with an hour warm up.  I don't know where I finished, but I feel bad enough at 9pm tonight that I know I tried very hard.  

No racing next weekend, I have to play Army.  It will be a whole weekend of change of command ceremonies and awards, so I will be taking pictures for the entire weekend.

Friday, May 7, 2010

First Time Trial Coming up

On Sunday morning I will ride my first Time Trial since 2006.  It is not my favorite event, I don't have a TT bike.  For this event, I don't even have the special handlebars, wheels or helmet real time trailers use.  But I do have a nice new Main Line Cycling/Bi-Kyle team skin suit.  So if I don't ride well, I will at least look like a real bike racer!

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Nice Butt!




Bike racers seen from a car window.


To a car driving toward a bicyclist from behind (yes, I meant to say that) all male bicycle racers look alike.  They are thin, folded like a paper clip and wearing spandex.  Today, for the first time in almost two years, a  car with several college-age girls drove by me and the blond in the passenger seat yelled "Nice Butt!" as she went by.


Since the road was flat--West River Drive in Philadelphia--and my head was down, it is possible that none of the young women in the car knew they were yelling at a member of AARP.  I have to say no one yelled anything like that as I rode around Tallil Air Base.

Not So Supreme: A Conference about the Constitution, the Courts and Justice

Hannah Arendt At the end of the first week in March, I went to a conference at Bard College titled: Between Power and Authority: Arendt on t...