Masochism

Warning: This entry was composed while in a state of delirium induced by a 6hr solo night trail ride. The thoughts and expressions, while open and truthful, are a little more revealing than that of most entries.

It’s 2:00 am in the morning and I just got out of the shower after a 6hr night ride in the trails. With the looming 24hr event around the corner I thought it would be beneficial to sharpen my night lap skills.

Let me begin with a brief description of the events leading up to this evening’s endeavor. I spent the day with Angela’s family celebrating her birthday. I had ridden to her parent’s house in the morning (45 miles with some ancillary trail stops). The goal of this ride was to get the system adjusted to riding in a state of exhaustion. The day consisted of a barrage of beer, sun by the pool, consumption of three different animal meats, and an ice cream cake with some coffee to wash it down. Essentially, it was a recipe for an epic bowel battle!

At the end of the day as I rolled out to begin my excursion, I kissed Angela goodbye, wished her happy birthday and explained that 97% of the time I love riding my bike. However, this ride was not going to be one of those times.

For those of you who have never ridden trails at night, it is great! Get a few of your friends, roll to your local trail head with some lights and you can make any memorized mundane trail system feel like a completely new experience. The best part is, you can ride the trails backwards whereas during the day it would normally be a big MTB no no.

So riding with your friends at night=fun; riding by yourself at night=a bit downright frightening. That’s right, my first lap was terrifying…I’ll admit it, I’m man enough. The nighttime in the woods is incredibly quiet. Your sight becomes complete tunnel vision and things come up on you very quickly. Couple that with the reflective eyes of assorted night time woodland creatures (raccoon, deer, fox, sasquach, etc.), and the ever present looming threat that there will be some misguided teenagers under the influence of whatever inhalants and pills they were able steal from there local Walgreen’s having a bonfire at the top of Mescaline Mountain and completely lacking sensible judgment. If that is not enough, your thoughts of different scenarios that could happen consume you. For instance, one of my biggest fears is paranormal life. If I told you that the thought that I could rip around a corner and whoosh right through a transparent haunting image of Tara Grant and have her chase me the rest of the lap was not running through my mind constantly, I would be telling a lie!

Before I left for the ride Angela’s mom asked me, “Aren’t you afraid of riding in the woods at night?”. I conjured up the quickest tough guy response that I could think of in my deepest voice, “Not really, I am most afraid of going into this 24hr race unprepared” than I puffed up my chest and walked away on my tiptoes. Although my response was arguably award winning, whom was I kidding, I was terrified.



Perhaps it was nerves, or pre-race anxiety, or the eclectic collage of food dancing around in my gut, but after a few laps in the trails, something happened. My stomach started making noises similar to a clogged garbage disposal. Severe abdominal pains started consuming me and every time I stomped on the pedals I took a risk of a sharting (i.e. combo of shiting and farting) blow out! I tried my best to dismiss the pain and mentally overcome it. Mind over matter can only go so far; at a certain point your intestinal discharge will become involuntary! I began to realize what action was in the cards. Luckily, in college I read the literary masterpiece How to Shit in the Woods by Kathleen Meyer. I was prepared and knowledgeable of how I could make this move go effectively smooth. So I rolled off to the side of the trail, found an inviting tree to lean against, striped down, and began my business…it was not pretty. As I squat, and looked around for the most optimal leafs to complete the paperwork with, the true reality of this entire 24hr tour of duty/vision quest started to really sink in. Call it masochistic perhaps?

In the film 24hr solo, Chris Etough explains that there is no where to hide in a 24hr race, at one point you become face to face with your soul. Well, tonight I caught of glimpse of my soul and left a pile of it lying in the woods.

Always a Bridesmaid…never a Bride.

“You guys raced a great race, it seems like you did everything right in the break and made the Essex boys work to catch the front break…so how did we finish” asks Ray Dybowski. “Ummm…Danny took 3rd, and I took 5th…Cruise took a flyer with two to go, then Danny went, and after he was caught what I should of done was…” I replied. Ray abruptly rebutles, “I don’t want to hear about what you should of done…just do it next time, get it done next time”! Tough love.

So it seems that since Michigan road racing has swirled straight down the toilet for the month of July, racers are beginning to view Thursday night Waterfords as our best opportunity to go head to head with each other. This was reflected in this Thursday’s record 64 racers in the “A” field.

Race Cliff notes:
-Break stuck about 30min. into the two-hour race.
-We had Cruise and Cory represented
-Chase break formed with about 50min. left of racing; initially we had no one represented in the chase
-Danny and I bridged to the chase.
-Tim Saari gets dropped from the front break
-Bruce, Gilboe, and Terry P of Essex are represented in the chase break and the only team without a rider in the front break so the chase falls on their shoulders.
-After much hard work, the Essex boys manage to bring us up to the front group, which now has more WSC riders than any other team.
-With two to go, Cruise and Danny throw down back-to-back attacks that are both brought back in.
-Brian Adams takes a crack at it last lap and is caught by the sprint pack on the last turn.

Top 15 Results:
1. Bruce Rivera - Essex Brass
2. Terry Palmer - Essex Brass
3. Dan Klein - WSC
4. Jeff Weinert - Team Giant
5. Tim Finkel - WSC
6. Christopher Bogedin - WSC
7. Bob Hokin - Team Giant
8. Vince Roberge - South Lyon
9. Tom Archer - Lathrup Industries
10. ??????
11. Jame Bruce - Lathrup Industries
12. James Ignash - FRCC
13. Bill Gilboe - Essex Brass
14. Brian Adams - Lathrup Industries
15. John Sammut – WSC

It seems that this season I have definitely stepped up my game and effectively learned to read a race and consistently put myself in the breaks and in the position to win. However, my finish is a different story. I can truthfully say that I own the 4th and 5th spot at Waterford…I don’t think any other rider has more 4ths and 5ths than me this season. I am not proud of this; it is simply a reflection that I have to develop an effective and highly potent finish.




On another note, I have to give credit where credit is due. I haven’t given out a W.C.I.F. award in awhile and one rider in particular has stuck out to me in the past two weeks. Two weeks ago, Bruce Rivera won out at Waterford; we were in a 6-man break and he out sprinted the group. (*It is worth noting that I flatted on the last lap after 2 hours of breakaway efforts, also, a pack of push pins were found in Bruce’s car after the race…hmmmmm.JK) At the time I thought it was a good win but he sat on the break the last 5-6 laps and did very little work, if any. However, this past Thursday was a different scenario. Bruce was required to race a very defensive race and cover several attacks and put his nose to the wind, all the while still managing to snap around us. So reluctantly I have to give Bruce Rivera, a member of a WSC nemesis team, this week’s W.C.I.F. award. So lets all raise our gratuitously (arguably gaudy) vinyl sticker adorned, Zipp equipped bikes to Bruce…although you are our nemesis, you are this week’s recipient of the W.C.I.F. award.

It’s not just the Motor City, but the Velo-City!

Once again, I have to prelude this entry by extending my sympathies to all those who have to work in the summer. The weather is so nice, the days are so long, the trails are so perfect, and no one should have to be cooped up all day working and missing out on the fun. That being said let me continue with how great my life is.

Next week I am going to head out to the Superweek Pro Tour. It’s my annual pilgrimage to all things fast, furious, and waaaay above my head…I love every minute of it! This year we decided to somehow signify on our team kits that we are from Detroit for just these occasions. After some interest developed by Made in Detroit, we threw their logo on the kit. In the past, whenever I have been racing out of town and people have asked me where I reside, their common response to my answer is one of a bit of shock and dismay. “Do people actually ride bikes in the Detroit area…I thought it was just crime and cars”.

I grew up in Michigan but never thought I would of actually ended up living here in my adult life, the resources are simply not the most optimal for my passions/interests. However, with the emergence of my interest in cycling I have come to develop a family within the velo-world and even more, a pride in where I live.

For instance, recently my Tuesday/Thursday two-a-day training days (track in the AM, Birmingham Worlds/Waterford PM) have morphed in three-a-days; track for breakfast, MTB trails for lunch, and a wholesome road ride for dinner. So it got me thinking…where else can you ride a world-class velodrome in the morning, receive world-class coaching, ride a new MTB park (new Stoney Creek skills park), ride well maintained single track trails in the afternoon, and then meet up with 70 of your best friends for a skinny tired slugfest through the streets of Birmingham/Auburn Hills or Waterford Raceway at night?


I’ve even heard testimony from fellow friends who have moved to places as extravagant as Boulder, CO but reported that although the riding itself is much better, the camaraderie and fellowship amongst the culture is not quite where our scene is.

The thing is, none of this is new. This has all been going on way before I got into riding or before I was even born, Detroit has rich cycling history. The Walden’s, the Young’s, the Andreau's, the Obermeyer's, the Wolverine Sports Club, the Olympic Medals, and the National Champions…the list goes on and on and continues to grow. The Dodge brothers were even cyclists!


I live in Royal Oak, and on any given night I can meet up with my choice of 2-3 different group rides of varying ability levels…and these rides have been going on for years and years!

Earlier this week I ran into an individual on the Clinton River Trail who had just moved here from Germany. He asked about some group rides and I found myself rattling on an on explaining the wealth of opportunities we have to offer. He explained that he was quite amazed that we had so much to offer.

So for all of those riders who like to dwell on what we don’t have here in the Motor City, take some time to dwell on all the things we do have. MADE IN DETROIT: The Velo-City.

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.