Thank John T. for the title tonight. Jimmy laid down the challenge at Wendy's to come up with words for the acronym "ORLEANS". I was just sitting down to compose my own before posting, but instead decided to check Twitter first. John T's tweet came on immediately, and what could I say? Great job!
It was a healthy turnout for the inaugural 2012 pace line season. John T., Galloway, Miller, Jake, Jimmy, Allen, Dan, DfO, and I wound up doing part or all of the course (Dan showed up late, caught us out on the course). It was coolish (compared to lately), with 10-15 mph winds coming from the northwest - the worst possible direction. This guaranteed headwinds coming right down the pipe all the way through the pace line ride.
John T. and I discussed the strategy for the evening. I had been thinking we might try a time trial, but with the headwind it would have been a useless exercise. For starters, riders would have struggled to complete it at all, much less fast. Even more, it would be a worthless data point with the headwind resistance.
A better choice was to do a pace line, but hold the pace down some. 22-24 mph seemed about right; there was every chance the wind would hold the speed down anyway. We hoped to keep everyone on this way.
Allen was on his first pace line, so we laid out a few basics to help keep him out of trouble. We probably should have given him more intel. More on that later.
DfO chose to go first. Allen was going to, but we convinced him it might be better to let a couple of guys go first, so he could see how the routine worked. Since those two more or less took off to the start without waiting, and since I responded quicker than the rest of the group, I wound up in second. DfO resisted, saying he didn't want me to drop him after he tapped. "I'm only going to go 22," I promised, a vow I kept.
DfO pulled a minute or so and tapped. I didn't think it was too much; really the speed wasn't tough, and I gave him plenty of time to get on. No, let me restate that - I didn't change the pace a bit from where he left it. I kept the line steady at 22. I didn't let the little rises take us under 22 at all, and I didn't let the pace go above 23 even in the slight drops. 22.
I pulled until we entered Bromer. I wanted to get clear of the wide-open areas, because the wind was strong, and Jimmy was coming next. Once in the temporary shielding of the small burg, I tapped. I didn't need to - I could have gone all the way to Orleans - but everyone said they wanted a pull, so I wanted to make sure I didn't hog it all.
Jimmy went 45 seconds, then handed to Allen. This left Allen with a small stretch until our first hill. Allen made two rookie mistakes which cost him his pace line life. First, he pulled too long. Second, and much more importantly, he tapped at the base of the hill. He was slightly gassed, sitting at the bottom of a hill that would tax him more, and he handed to someone fresh. The inevitable happened. He got popped off.
At this point I want to back up a bit. When I tapped entering Bromer, I looked back for DfO. I didn't want anyone dropped, yet when I passed to the back of the line, Miller was the last rider. Nearly 400 meters back was DfO. How did he get dropped?! I maintained discipline throughout my pull. It shouldn't have happened.
I decided to drop back and try to pull him back in. Trouble was, the more I dropped back, the more he fell off. I could soon see there was no way to bridge the gap. He was off, and that was that.
Enter the present, and Allen has just tapped.
I watched the tableau unfold right in front of me, and I could see Allen had just screwed himself. I don't know who was on the front at that particular moment, and really, it didn't matter. That person was fresh, accelerating, and leaving Allen.
Since I was already placed to do so, I tried to pull Allen back in. He urged me to go on, saying he was finished. I hadn't given up. "You'll recover quickly once you top the hill," I called, "just tuck in here really tight." He was game, and really did try. It was too much to ask. The group was beginning to move away, Allen was red lining, and it reached the point of no return for me. If I didn't soon make a move to rejoin, it would become impossible. Not only that, I still needed to get back in the rotation to help the group.
I told Allen I was moving on, and I lit out. We had been on the downhill portion just west of Bromer, the group about 400 meters or so ahead. I was alone and working against a stiff headwind. With a little push, not too much, I caught them by the Pumpkin Center turn. Rejoining, I got Jimmy to let me re-insert in my original spot. I felt good enough to go any time.
Galloway was finishing up his turn by this point, and Miller was on deck. At the top of the hill leading into Lost River, Galloway tapped, and Miller grabbed the lead. Through the bottoms we went, speed slowly bleeding off as Miller churned into the headwind. As we neared the bridge, I wondered what Tim would do. This was his first Cervelo ride of the season, and I wasn't sure about his comfort level on it yet.
He did the Miller thing - he held the lead and pulled us up. Over the top, he did the smart thing; he held the lead until he could bring the speed back to normal. Then he tapped.
I held up two fingers and flashed them twice - signaling "22 mph". Jimmy thanked me for holding this limit, and through the gentle rollers I kept the line very well. We dipped ever so slightly below once or twice on the peaks of the rollers, other than that it was an even speed throughout.
Now there was the final hill. I coasted down the final drop into the big climb, trying not to let the speed get too high (thus breaking my promise). From there on, it was a steady climb to the top. We held good speed until the very top, where we dropped to 16 mph. I looked back to see Jimmy still on my tail. Good. We were going to finish this more or less intact.
There really was no reason to relinquish the lead now. We had about a quarter mile until the sprint, might as well take it in. At the release point I waved, and pushed my pace up a bit. I hit maybe 26 mph, but sure enough a train of bikes came by with a quarter to go. John T., Miller, Jake, and Galloway all jumped me and left. I had no intention of even trying. Maybe I could have gotten on, maybe I couldn't, but I played it safe. Calf trouble has been an issue lately, and I had a new spot popping up.
Overall speed for the ride was slow as you might expect for a headwind-laced first ride of the season. It was still fun. For my part, I was not seriously pushed at all. John T. and Galloway especially looked pretty tough. Miller has obviously been riding something, and even Jimmy hung in there.
We got back to the cars, headed to Wendy's, and the first ride of the season was in the books!
Optimal
Riding
Length
Equals
Attack
Not
Surrender
Let me tell you why my acronym sings - the whole idea was spurred on by Jimmy's comment there was a sign right where he likes to insert his kick. What does the sign say? "Orleans", said Jimmy. "Wonder if we can make an acronym out of it." Yeah. I like it.
We are planning to ride from Parkview, Saturday morning, 8 AM. 40 miles, then a run after. First group brick of the year!
It was a healthy turnout for the inaugural 2012 pace line season. John T., Galloway, Miller, Jake, Jimmy, Allen, Dan, DfO, and I wound up doing part or all of the course (Dan showed up late, caught us out on the course). It was coolish (compared to lately), with 10-15 mph winds coming from the northwest - the worst possible direction. This guaranteed headwinds coming right down the pipe all the way through the pace line ride.
John T. and I discussed the strategy for the evening. I had been thinking we might try a time trial, but with the headwind it would have been a useless exercise. For starters, riders would have struggled to complete it at all, much less fast. Even more, it would be a worthless data point with the headwind resistance.
A better choice was to do a pace line, but hold the pace down some. 22-24 mph seemed about right; there was every chance the wind would hold the speed down anyway. We hoped to keep everyone on this way.
Allen was on his first pace line, so we laid out a few basics to help keep him out of trouble. We probably should have given him more intel. More on that later.
DfO chose to go first. Allen was going to, but we convinced him it might be better to let a couple of guys go first, so he could see how the routine worked. Since those two more or less took off to the start without waiting, and since I responded quicker than the rest of the group, I wound up in second. DfO resisted, saying he didn't want me to drop him after he tapped. "I'm only going to go 22," I promised, a vow I kept.
DfO pulled a minute or so and tapped. I didn't think it was too much; really the speed wasn't tough, and I gave him plenty of time to get on. No, let me restate that - I didn't change the pace a bit from where he left it. I kept the line steady at 22. I didn't let the little rises take us under 22 at all, and I didn't let the pace go above 23 even in the slight drops. 22.
I pulled until we entered Bromer. I wanted to get clear of the wide-open areas, because the wind was strong, and Jimmy was coming next. Once in the temporary shielding of the small burg, I tapped. I didn't need to - I could have gone all the way to Orleans - but everyone said they wanted a pull, so I wanted to make sure I didn't hog it all.
Jimmy went 45 seconds, then handed to Allen. This left Allen with a small stretch until our first hill. Allen made two rookie mistakes which cost him his pace line life. First, he pulled too long. Second, and much more importantly, he tapped at the base of the hill. He was slightly gassed, sitting at the bottom of a hill that would tax him more, and he handed to someone fresh. The inevitable happened. He got popped off.
At this point I want to back up a bit. When I tapped entering Bromer, I looked back for DfO. I didn't want anyone dropped, yet when I passed to the back of the line, Miller was the last rider. Nearly 400 meters back was DfO. How did he get dropped?! I maintained discipline throughout my pull. It shouldn't have happened.
I decided to drop back and try to pull him back in. Trouble was, the more I dropped back, the more he fell off. I could soon see there was no way to bridge the gap. He was off, and that was that.
Enter the present, and Allen has just tapped.
I watched the tableau unfold right in front of me, and I could see Allen had just screwed himself. I don't know who was on the front at that particular moment, and really, it didn't matter. That person was fresh, accelerating, and leaving Allen.
Since I was already placed to do so, I tried to pull Allen back in. He urged me to go on, saying he was finished. I hadn't given up. "You'll recover quickly once you top the hill," I called, "just tuck in here really tight." He was game, and really did try. It was too much to ask. The group was beginning to move away, Allen was red lining, and it reached the point of no return for me. If I didn't soon make a move to rejoin, it would become impossible. Not only that, I still needed to get back in the rotation to help the group.
I told Allen I was moving on, and I lit out. We had been on the downhill portion just west of Bromer, the group about 400 meters or so ahead. I was alone and working against a stiff headwind. With a little push, not too much, I caught them by the Pumpkin Center turn. Rejoining, I got Jimmy to let me re-insert in my original spot. I felt good enough to go any time.
Galloway was finishing up his turn by this point, and Miller was on deck. At the top of the hill leading into Lost River, Galloway tapped, and Miller grabbed the lead. Through the bottoms we went, speed slowly bleeding off as Miller churned into the headwind. As we neared the bridge, I wondered what Tim would do. This was his first Cervelo ride of the season, and I wasn't sure about his comfort level on it yet.
He did the Miller thing - he held the lead and pulled us up. Over the top, he did the smart thing; he held the lead until he could bring the speed back to normal. Then he tapped.
I held up two fingers and flashed them twice - signaling "22 mph". Jimmy thanked me for holding this limit, and through the gentle rollers I kept the line very well. We dipped ever so slightly below once or twice on the peaks of the rollers, other than that it was an even speed throughout.
Now there was the final hill. I coasted down the final drop into the big climb, trying not to let the speed get too high (thus breaking my promise). From there on, it was a steady climb to the top. We held good speed until the very top, where we dropped to 16 mph. I looked back to see Jimmy still on my tail. Good. We were going to finish this more or less intact.
There really was no reason to relinquish the lead now. We had about a quarter mile until the sprint, might as well take it in. At the release point I waved, and pushed my pace up a bit. I hit maybe 26 mph, but sure enough a train of bikes came by with a quarter to go. John T., Miller, Jake, and Galloway all jumped me and left. I had no intention of even trying. Maybe I could have gotten on, maybe I couldn't, but I played it safe. Calf trouble has been an issue lately, and I had a new spot popping up.
Overall speed for the ride was slow as you might expect for a headwind-laced first ride of the season. It was still fun. For my part, I was not seriously pushed at all. John T. and Galloway especially looked pretty tough. Miller has obviously been riding something, and even Jimmy hung in there.
We got back to the cars, headed to Wendy's, and the first ride of the season was in the books!
Optimal
Riding
Length
Equals
Attack
Not
Surrender
Let me tell you why my acronym sings - the whole idea was spurred on by Jimmy's comment there was a sign right where he likes to insert his kick. What does the sign say? "Orleans", said Jimmy. "Wonder if we can make an acronym out of it." Yeah. I like it.
We are planning to ride from Parkview, Saturday morning, 8 AM. 40 miles, then a run after. First group brick of the year!
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