Bike Racing Season Over

Dating Season Begins! Yes ladies that's right, this man is on the market if you are looking. I like long bike rides on the beach, hanging out with friends on bikes, and living life to the fullest (while on a bike). I'm looking to date a bike (or two or more!). Nah, in all seriousness I am looking. I even made an online dating profile here.

So yeah, bike racing season is over. Yeah, I don't really count cyclocross or races in California. Eugene Celebration Stage Race is really the last big race of the year it seems. Last year I did quite well getting 2nd in the prologue hillclimb and eventually 4th overall in the 4/5s. This year I was expecting a bigger challenge.

I scored a rideshare down with the Cat 3 OBRA Hillclimbing champ and was stoked that he ended up being my 30 second guy in the prologue. I was keeping up until the hill started and then didn't see him until the finish. It also didn't help that my real derailleur was skipping between 4th and 6th cogs. However, I still finished with a decent time of about 12 minutes and good enough for 6th place. The road race I attacked way too much, didn't realize that 2nd and 3rd in GC broke away and then didn't have the magical intuition to know who's wheel to suck in the field sprint. Oh well.

I also like Eugene because it is a really hippie kinda town. Although it's smaller than Portland I'd argue that per capita it is more hippie. It's really easy to find vegan food and lots of people bike! Case in picture:

At the time trial I was a bit worried about losing a lot of time. However, I pulled out a surprising 6th place finish getting a time two minutes and eight seconds faster than last year. This year I had carbon wheels, aero bars, a TT helmet and a skinsuit. But what matterred by far the most was that I went in with a plan to average a specific speed in mph. I didn't even look at my heart rate, I just looked at speed. I found it way easier to force myself to suffer to reach a certain speed than heart rate. It also helped that I was warring with the guy behind me. He had a full TT setup, disc wheel and all and passed me shortly after the final turn. However, I kept passing back this guy probably 3 or 4 times. At the final 500k I pushed it into 29mph and passed him for the WIN, no enjoyment of being an ass, NO - the avoidance of being humiliated by being passed in a TT.

The crit was like the PIR (Portland PIR) of Eugene. So dang flat and straight and no crappy pavement. Yet there still managed to be a crash which kinda got onto my nerves and took away my aggression to find a good wheel for the final sprint. Gotta work on these kinda sprints for next year. After this I had some lunch with the Brownies and then headed back home.

Well, that's about it for this post. I might get around to doing a racing season reflection post or something, but I'm too busy trying to meet a hot babe and planning a vacation to Portlandia at the moment.

Am I done yet?

Ugh, racing. Not again. Do I really have to subject myself to yet another grueling series of efforts just to watch the asses of all the other racers actually compete for first place in the end? I didn't think I wanted to at all the weekend before the last so I didn't race at all. However, I did ride a considerable amount.

On Saturday I rode out to somewhere I've always wanted to ride: Vista House:

And then Sunday I rode with the Klipper family along Skyline. The photo below is from later that evening.

But I still felt exhausted after this "rest" weekend. I chose to not do PIR and only did Gig Harbor because my coach thought I should. Oh, did I just miss out on the Portland Twilight Crit? Yep. Who cares. Out at Gig Harbor nothing mattered until the final 200m where I got popped off the back. But I finally scored a victory or three of them in a row while playing beer pong at my sister's party.

I'm ready for the season to be over with.

Alternate Realities

The only world that exists and matters is mine. And more to the point my world that I live in involves me exercising my incredible talent at bicycle racing such that my glory is overbearing on my fellow inferior bicycle racing competitors.

In fact, this season was going to be the one in which I truly became a formidable racer upgrading to Cat 1 in a matter of 4 races and subsequently starting to be noticed by pro teams scouting for good riders for next year. My sprinting would make people wonder why they even race and my climbing would be such a spectacle to watch that people from the countryside would come out to watch my seemingly supernatural ability as pictured below:

The ladies would hardly be able to contain themselves due to my irresistible physique and bicycle race winning ability. They would come out in droves and go to lengths once thought only the realm of obsessive stalkers just to catch a glimpse of my race number or even the scent of my fragrant pheromone. Shown below is an example of what would happen at a typical race happening at a velodrome I was racing in:

The world as it were would be completely serving of my bicycle racing lifestyle and would not cease to do my will at a whim. However, this season so far has taken an incredible nose dive into a displeasing reality that has me questioning if I may actually be wrong in my judgement about future and current events.

Portland Plaza Bicycle Policy - The Final Word

One of the most absurd questioning I have had to do is whether I am being reasonable with the Portland Plaza Homeowners Association in asking them to allow bicycle owners and thus me to be able to bring my bicycle up to my unit. Could it be that I am unreasonable in the amount of bicycles that I own and am opening a pandora's box to hordes of second-class-residents (aka renters and bike owners) to completely scratch up the elevators worse than the likes of a men's bathroom wall in a dive bar? Apparently yes, I am an unreasonable activist - the HOA did not change the rules that prohibiting residents from bringing a bicycle up to their unit.

The Portland Plaza is like a hot chic at first impression. Looks great, is from a desirable part of town and is rich. However, once you get to know her and her family a little bit more, things start going south. First you find out that parents are obsessed with rules and etiquette, grilling you for every minute detail you have done wrong. Her brother says he thinks it is reasonable for her sister to date, but thinks you have no business with the family's way of doing things since you aren't part of the country club (since you're a renter). The worst of all things is that you ultimately find out that this hot chic won't let you put your bicycle in her elevator. And with that you know that the relationship just won't work out for the long-term.

Back to my Dominant Racing Season

Every once in a while I do take a little time off crushing and ripping other bicycle racer's legs off and beating them with them to hang out. And to ensure that my hanging out is equal opportunity, I chose to attend ethnic fest with Karly's friend. And then we chatted a little bit about how Jordan had unknowingly solved the world's traffic problems.

You see it is a really simple equation. Time = Distance/Speed. In Jordan's equation he drastically reduced the distance factor of his commute by moving to within 2 miles of work instead of 25. Although I am working on the world's most intuitive traffic information model I know right from the start that reducing the distance one has to drive (aka moving somewhere close to your daily activities) they will save much more time than what a traffic app will save them.

wait a second, racing!!!!

Tonight was the Tacoma Twilight Criterium, the race that I would conclusively win to the delight and admiration of all of my Tacoma friends. They would all be awestruck at how effortlessly I would lap the field that they would begin to dig into the prize money of the Cat 1/2 field and even consider giving me the pacecar as well (of course I would turn around and sell it, cars suck).

And I was ready. This photo below perfectly encapsulates my sheer focus even before the race started on how steadfast I would be in winning the race for Tacoma Bike. Nevermind Tony who is doing his own thing with his aviators. Little does he know the amount of ass-whooping I am about to unleash on the streets. You see I was on a mission for a position at the top of the podium.

As the race began I immediately felt challenged to battle through the harsh wind on the backside. Nonetheless I got myself into a break which had trouble organizing itself. And then it got too big - 12 riders or so. I tried attacking to actually get a small one going again, but ultimately it all got swallowed and Sofa King won it again after I barely had enough to stay with the pack in the sprint. What an utter disappointment for me. I drowned my sorrows with a my prime winnings of a plate of pasta and a beer which then kept me awake after trying to get to bed early. At the restaurant some friendly locals impressed with racing in general asked me if I'd rather win a race or win a girl and I said win a race. Nothing matters more to me as I have lost sight of the rest of what normal people seek for fulfillment in life.

Vancouver

And on again to another race. I peacefully rode over to the other state thinking about race strategy and was relaxed when I got there. However, as the race went along I got a slow leak and bailed instead of going too fast through the 7-corner course on 40psi in the rear. As a result, Culpepper now has 3 wins in a row in Cat 3 men OBRA land.

And it continues at PIR

I was super focused on my strategy of winning a hot spot and then the final sprint and thus the race. However, I heard an imaginary bell and crushed the field from 300 meters for no reason at all. After that the winning break got away and I was off the back in the field sprint and super hungry.

Wednesday I ate a cucumber that was actually a zucchini.

And now Thursday I'm going to do hill sprints up Tabor, but Tabor racing is already over and it's Thursday. Whatever, I live in my own world anyways!