Tour de Thumb

With my 2008 “target” event less than seven weeks away I decided it’s time to start focusing my workouts. To my surprise, my 2009 FOX RLC 100 F-Series front MTB bouncer arrived Wednesday after a true patience-testing 3 months of waiting. After installing this new beauty, I set the desired PSI and went to bed. When I awoke, I discovered the fork had lost about half its pressure overnight…bad fork karma I guess.

The departure begins...

However, I did not let this little mechanical mishap set me back from the desired ETD for my excursion up to the tip of the thumb.


I’ve made this trek before on a road bike. However, this time I decided the weapon of choice was my Top Fuel and the road of choice was dirt.


Epic destination rides have a much different feel than loop rides. When you set off you have to mentally segment the ride or the overwhelming time and distance will quickly eat away at your psyche and you could go into survival mode, get a feeling of strandedness and start cussing at the sky.


Unfortunately, I was inflicted with a 25mph headwind the ENTIRE way. At many times it was a battle to simply keep the wheels at 15mph. I tried to tell myself that this would be great mental training for the 24-hour race. When I was training for a marathon, back in September I once said that running is merely training yourself to sustain an annoying level of discomfort…you don’t really turn yourself inside out or dig way deep into the pain locker. Unfortunately, this training ride was much like training for a marathon.


For those of you who don’t know, the farm roads of the Thumb are painfully/mind-numbingly flat, filled with high winds that carry the pleasant stench of cow/pig manure, and offer a variety of dogs of all shapes and sizes that have been waiting their whole lives for some spandex clad idiot to roll by their guarded homestead so they can chase your ankles for several miles all the while barking a creating a scene that Old Man Withers watches from his window only to retell the story of the spandex clad idiot who rode by to every local affiliate within the town. In many ways, riding through these areas almost makes you feel like a space alien when the local slack-jawed yokel folk stare at you in complete wonderment when you roll by.


How's this for postcard fodder!...Amish country baby! I was wishing oh so much to get into an all out city limit sprint with a horse and buggy with Ezekial or Jebediah at the reigns but it never happened.



This is no joke, my parents live right off of Finkel road...actually named after my ancestors.


Total Distance: 136
Total Ride Time: 8hr 38min
All in all, the trek was very worthwhile. The rewards included great race training, quality spent time with the Fam, additional daily long rides throughout the weekend, participation in a parade, and homage to the land of Port Hope where virtually all of the Finkelstein heritage can be traced back to.

Skipping rocks is the ultimate soul soothing activity until you throw your arm out.


A special moment with my new niece and Godchild.


Double fisting some Oberon with mom...priceless

Happy 4th of July!

This guy wishes all you three day track racers good luck this weekend!
Can you guess who? Admittedly one of my all-time idols!

Anywho, tonight is the eve of a 140mile mtb trek to "The Thumb" for a weekend of celebrating our nation's Independence. I'll be back sometime next week. Happy 4Th of July all you velo-junkies!

Who says old men in lycra can't still land a chick or two?

May Peace be with me.

The Rockford Crit has been a historically notorious one for me.

Year one in the 1-2 field= DNF
Year two= Another DNF
Year three= did not even muster the gumption to show.

As I ventured up to the quaint little town near Grand Rapids I had one goal on my mind, to make peace with the course and simply finish in contention regardless of my placing. Mentally, the task of finishing the race had become insurmountable over the years. However, if I was going to be satisfied with my season I needed to overcome this obstacle.

Uncharacteristic of me, the ride to the race was a quiet and subdued one. I was simply trying to put myself in a place of focus and mentally prepare myself for the task at hand.

For those of you who don’t know, this race is an 8-turn course with a significant hill (which gets progressively bigger as the race goes on) in less than a 1-mile loop. Par for the course include but are not limited to; lots of crashes, breakaways, chase groups, riders going from feeling fine to shooting out the back of the field like a cannon, epic uphill attacks, sustained redlined heart rates, and shattered dreams. Many races allow time for a rider to go into auto-pilot and just hang out for awhile letting their mind drift until the action sparks up, this is not the case at Rockford. If you are not digging deep to drag your tired body up the hill, than you are negotiating high speed s-turn downhill sections and trying to keep the gap to the next wheel in front of you to a minimum. A mere five-foot gap at the summit of the hill can quickly turn into a 50-foot gap if you find yourself asleep at the wheel or recovering prematurely. It is commonplace for less that half of the field to finish in contention…needless to say, only the strong survive and in the past I proved to not be the strong.

Priority Health/Bissell are the promoters, they had big budgets, big name riders, and always have big plans to control this race. As the race started, they sent one of their riders up the rode. I sat in the front position for the first lap and rolled at a comfortable pace. The second lap, I was quickly pushed 10-15 spots back by riders eager to pick up the pace and chase. The next twenty minutes of the race was a blur, filled with faint memories of closing gaps, chasing field splits, burning legs, pounding lungs and heart rates, and even the fleeting thought of throwing in the towel. Fueled by the words “You don’t know how to suffer”, I put my head down, reminded myself of what the task I drove 3 hours to do was, and convinced myself that not finishing this race was NOT an option.

The pace settled down after about 30 minutes. A break of eight was up the road and out of sight/out of mind. I was content to race for “the scraps” and knew there were still money spots as well as Michigan Point Series spots up for the taking. At about 45 minutes, I was able to press the hill and settle into a chase group containing 6 riders all racing for 9th place and on. As the race winded down, I was unclear as to how many laps remained. The announcer was not very animated nor dynamic and left several of us in our group questioning whether we were on the last lap or not. As we came around the final turn of the course I quickly realized we were on the last lap…gassed and unprepared to sprint I rolled in at 13th place. My teammate Luke Cavender, who also rode an exceptional race, was able to snag 10th place. We were both in the money and in the points! The day was successful.

Although, I feel I could have placed a few spots higher and in retrospect, probably could of raced a little less conservative, I accomplished my goal for the day. When the pain and exhaustion became unbearable, and I came face to face with the decision to push on or drop out, I choose to push on and it made all the difference. June 28th, 2008, I finally made peace with the Rockford Criterium.

The Dybo Memoirs: Some inspirational thoughts on the eve of the Rockford Criterium

I was first told this story after DNFing for the first time ever four years ago at the Rockford Crit. Although it may not of been what I wanted to hear at the time, it essentially is something that resonates in my head permanently whenever a race requires you to dig deep mentally and physically. Sit back, kick your feet up, and enjoy this story that every bike racer needs to hear.

Long ago, when I was still a cat. 3 racer, I had a tendency to get dropped a lot. I was up at Sugarloaf Mountain and got dropped from the field, causing me to DNF. Man, I was freaking tired, defeated, and frustrated. As I was sulking in my despair, I heard a voice over my shoulder yell, “Dybowski…get in the trailer, I want to talk to you”. The voice was none other than one of Michigan’s most accomplished riders, Mr. Claire Young. I walked in the trailer and he told me to sit down. Claire proceeded to pull out the biggest freaking radish I had ever seen. He began to brag to me that he had grown it himself in his own garden. He then started slicing it up and eating it. While chomping on this big freaking radish, he offered some to me. As he reached to hand me some, he said “you know what your problem is Dybowski?...you don’t know how to suffer…you keep getting dropped because you don’t now how to suffer…learn to suffer.”

Ray has told me this numerous times. “You don’t know how to suffer Finkel”= its tough love but it is important to hear. As I roll to the start line tomorrow of what is arguably the toughest Crit Michigan has to offer, I intend to suffer.

And That’s Bike Racing 4 U!

Not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but the summertime is great! The suits that pay me and enable me to sustain my lifestyle say that I don’t need to report to work for about 11 weeks, and they continue to send me a paycheck. So what do I do with all this time? In the years past I’ve always ridden my bike copious amounts but it was always coupled with disc golf, late night long boarding sessions, lots of oat soda, and insufficient rest…basically the rock star style of burning the candle at both ends. Last summer as I purchased my first home, seemed to be the summer of tinkering around the house. However, this season I have committed to living the illusive lifestyle of a pro cyclist. My first week of summer vacation was spent by riding twice a day (AM structured workout, PM group rides). In addition, my diet, my rest, and all ancillary activities outside of riding have been specifically calculated to assure I go into each race prepared.

Yesterday I hit the track early for about 2 hours and the headed out to Waterford Hills for some midweek head to head training combat. A break went on the third lap of a 2-hour race. Initially I was not in it, but after accessing its horsepower and potential for success I quickly made the decision to bridge to it…and we were off for two hours of pacelining breakaway fun. Initially, I had one of my teammates, John Coates, in attendance with me but he was unable to hang on the entire duration. Outnumbered by Essex boys, and assured there was no way the break was getting caught, I conceded to conserve and skip some pulls in an effort for fresh legs at the finish. As they announced the final lap, I rolled across the line eager to see how the race will play out and to test my sprinting legs. However, much to my dismay, as I went into the first turn of the final lap I looked down and quickly realized I had a puncture in my rear tubular. After two hours of effort, my race was over with one lap to go. I considered rolling it in on the flat but the race only pays three deep, and while my pride is large, the price tag on wrecking a set of race wheels in the name of finishing is even larger. I’ve said it before, sometimes things just don’t work out the way you planned and that’s bike racing for you…just another reason why we all keep returning to the start line.

It may have not been Superior, but it wasn’t too shabby!

While the rest of my teammates were making memories on the road during their venture to Superior Bike Fest, I was in Traverse City this past weekend for a wedding.

On paper, to those who know me, the weekend could present itself as a Finkelstein Personal Hell Prison. However, I must say it proved to be quite the contrary. After my hectic day with the 3-5 year olds, we arrived in Traverse City Thursday evening only to be greeted by the luxurious amenities that our seaside condo had to offer.

Being the supportive, patient, and understanding person that Angela is, she allowed me to bring both my road bike as well as a mountain bike in an effort to alleviate the intolerable anxieties that would have been created had I not rode for four days.

All in all, I was able to squeeze in 18 hours of riding over the four-day period on the picturesque landscapes of Mission Bay Peninsula as well as the Vasa Trail.

I’m not much of a wedding type of person. I find the cliché unoriginal rituals to be exhausting and intolerable. However, I have to say that this wedding was one of the most beautiful, genuine, and original weddings I have ever been to. In fact, it was the first wedding I have attended that when I looked around, I thought to myself, I wouldn’t mind all of this for myself.

So while I was not in attendance at Superior Bike Fest, the weekend still proved that sometimes there are events in people’s lives that take precedence over bike racing and that are well worth it in the long run. I was able to bond with Angela’s family more and was able to truly relax and get some great miles and smiles in.