6/23/2008

ABD Multisport - Podium Finishes!

ABD Multisport had a couple impressive performances at this weekends
8th Annual Tinley Park Duathlon.
In the individual Age Group competion, Scott Pahl took 1st place in
the 50-54 Age Group competion. He seems to be in pretty good early
season running shape, comming off a recent good Half-Marathon. Scott
also placed 15th overall....in a field of over 500 competitors.
Good Job Scott!
In the Male Team competition Rob Jungels & I (Bob Marshall), secured
2nd place. Having to start in the 4th wave....9 minutes after after
1st wave start, made for a lot of wieving-in-and-out for the both of
us, especially Rob's bike leg, which could have been,just plain dangerous.
I got off to a slowish, sub-par 1st run leg...2 miles in 12:53, held
back too way too much....about 25-30 seconds slower than anticipated.
I guess 3 runs per week just doesn't cut it!

Rob's bike leg, however was the talk of the day. His bike split was
24:48, which not only was the fastest bike split of the day, but also
beat Scott Pearson's "All-Time" previous Course Record of 25:13 in
2006. That's an outstanding 26.6 mph average, not to mention the
extra distance he did, having to wieve, in-and-out of quite a few people.
Rob stayed calm & focused, just like he always does when "Time Trailing".
Wow, Rob...."You-The-Man"!
Finally, the transition to second run was good, and my second run
12:49...however, the 1st place Male Team runner, just plain ran me
down...ran a very fast 2nd run...I think 11:08. We did however, seem
to put over two minutes on
the 3rd place Male Team.
All for now,
Bob Marshall

6/22/2008

Carter and the ABD/GEARGRINDER Team take back to back wins in Wisconsin

Josh Carter sprinted to back-to-back victories at this weekend's Grafton
and Sheboygan Criteriums, besting strong Midwest fields with the help of
his teammates.

Both races were fast and aggressive, but the team shared the workload
amongst themselves, with Rob White, Ryan White, and Jeff Schroetlin all
taking turns covering and initiating moves in Saturday night's event.
Professional rider Garrett Peltonen took a flyer with three to go and
almost everyone thought he'd created enough real estate between himself
and the field to hold on for the win. However, strong pulls from
Schroetlin and Texas Roadhouse's Adam Bergman reeled him in just enough
that Carter was able to jump with 400 meters to go and catch him by the
line, the only rider from the field to pass him.

In Sunday's race the team gained the strength of John Meyers, who drove
straight to Sheboygan after finishing the five-stage Tour of Ohio. Again
the riders all took turns making moves throughout the day, but when it
was all together with two laps to go the team massed at the front to
string it out for Carter. He again took the sprint from a long way out,
which bodes well for the team as they make their final preparations for
Superweek.

This weekend's races also marked the "call-up" for ABD Cat. 2 rider Andy
Skeen, who donned the ABD/GEARGRINDER kit and did an admirable job of
helping his teammates move around in the field and be in a position
where they were always ready for the attack.

More Masters Weekend and Winfield Criterium Pics

Thanks to the John Wrycza, Donovan Davis and George Barthel for taking some great photos of our events earlier this month! Click through to their galleries below:

George Barthel's Picassa album of the Batavia Criterium:
http://picasaweb.google.com/geobarthel/BataviaCrit2008

John Wrycza's Picassa album of the Winfield Twilight Criterium Men's 2/3 and Women's events:
http://picasaweb.google.com/john.wrycza/WinfieldTwilightCriteriumMenCat23
http://picasaweb.google.com/john.wrycza/WinfieldTwilightCriteriumWomen

Donovan Davis's picture from the ABR National Criterium Championship:
http://www.actionpicsinc.printroom.com/

Trek Demo Days at Palos this Saturday & Sunday!


6/19/2008

Prinner Report: Wisconsin RR and Carrol County

Hello ABD,
The race options for the weekend of the 7^th were indeed quite sparse, 
so I settled on the Wisconsin State Championship RR seeing as though it 
was the only race that was remotely close. If I could have foreseen the 
tragic outcome of this race, though, I would have definitely not gone at 
all.
The entirety of the women's cat. 1,2,3 race was 39 miles; six laps, each 
totaling 6.5 miles each, with a long and severely steep climb to the 
finish line. On arrival, I had expected to complete the entire six laps, 
but little did I know that I would end up doing only about 1.5 laps 
total, roughly adding up to a whopping 10 miles.
As I stood at the staging area of the course with the other 15 or so 
ladies, the USCF official clearly explained to us the rules and 
guidelines for our race. And just as she asked, "So, are there any 
questions?" a very loud crack of lightening light the sky, and one lady 
immediately inquired, "What do we do if it starts to thunderstorm?". The 
USCF official replied that they would stop the race at the start/finish 
line if deemed necessary. And, of course, being the teenager I am, I 
scoffed at such a thought, because I happened to know that USCF wouldn't 
stop a race even if a tornado came down and chucked the entire women's 
field off to the land of Oz. They'd just put a lap counter on the yellow 
brick road and tell us to keep racing.
So the race started out quite fine with a neutral start to the line, and 
the race commenced as soon as we topped the hill. The field pretty much 
stayed together for the first lap and as we began our second lap it 
started to rain on us. Normally I don't mind rain at all whether it be 
on a ride or in a race, but I soon started to question my indifference 
as the rain quickly turned to fast, pelting drops, with qualities 
similar to that of hail. And not only that, but by that time lightening 
was crashing across the sky, officially making it a thunderstorm. 
Nonetheless the women continued racing seemingly unbothered by the 
abhorrent wind and rain, that is, until a colossal bolt of lightening 
crashed not farther than a mile away followed by a tremendous boom of 
thunder that literally shook the peloton. And in perfect unison we all 
synchronically slammed on our brakes and came to a screeching halt, 
refusing to race a second longer under the "conditions". The pacecar, 
not knowing that t he women had quite suddenly stopped their race, drove 
away.
After a quick discussion on the situation at hand, the majority vote was 
to go back to registration/staging and huddle under the nearest tent we 
could find, so, indeed, we all turned around and peddled back to 
registration and engaged in some serious huddling.
Roughly 45 minutes later, after we had plenty of time to stand freezing 
in the pelting rain, and after about a third of the women's field left 
to go home, the race officials finally decided to start the race again, 
this time with only two laps to go. So we set off again into the harsh, 
darkening clouds, like the lone survivors of a natural disaster. Not 
more than two miles into the race, just as my legs were beginning to 
warm up, I began to feel a distinguished bounciness with my bicycle that 
makes every cycling veteran cringe, and knew I had a flat even before I 
looked down to see my tire deflating like a sad balloon. So, for the 
second time this year I got off my bike and stood by the side of the 
road looking very much like a scrappy teenager, and weighing the option 
of whether or not to knock on someone's door and ask to use their phone. 
Luckily, a generous rider let me use his phone as he happened by so I 
could call my dad and sadly abandon the race. And, to this day, I wond 
er if some higher power such as God or Buddha was trying to send me a 
message at the race, something like, "DON'T DO THE WISCONSIN STATE ROAD 
RACE". I just wish they could have given me the flat in the first place 
and saved me all the trouble.
The next weekend I showed up at the Carroll County Road Race with 
brand-new, heavy-duty-thick, hard-case tires. Take THAT God/Buddha. I 
wanna see you try to give me a flat NOW.
As we waited for the race to start at staging, the five other women and 
me planned everything out. Since there was only one women in each 
category, and we'd all technically won already, we decided we would stop 
at Dairy Queen during the race, then perhaps go shopping a bit (maybe 
get a new outfit), and then just before we reached the finish line we'd 
pull over and apply our make-up so that we could look our best for the 
finishing photo. That, of course, was all curbed when the race officials 
decided to make us race with the 50+ men, because we all know that Jessi 
Prinner switches into her beat-the-snot-out-of-everybody mode as soon as 
any mention of competition arises. Not that I'm trying to demote the 
women in any way, but racing really loses its competitive edge when 
you've already won your category just by showing up.
The race started out fast and fierce with all the steep hills at the 
beginning of the race, but it's exactly the kind of meat I feed on. The 
50+ men's pack diminished quickly and all the other women but one soon 
disappeared. The hills seemed to be the perfect spot for attacks, and 
one break of two riders got away early on one of the climbs, leaving the 
pack to be torn by several counterattacks that were all in attempt to 
bridge the gap. One so rider who attacked about 45543214645646 times was 
Richard Adamczckcksk (a Polish LOT rider who has one of those polish 
last names that are impossible to spell, much less pronounce). In his 
last attempt at a chase, he attacked again off the front, and because 
everyone was so sick of chasing him down, they pretty much just let him 
go. In seeing some potential at this break, I bridged up to 
Adamczkzczszk, and our gap quickly grew from the field. Then, looking 
back one more time to see how much ground we'd gained, I practically 
fell off my sad dle at what I saw; the field was gone.
Now I know what you're all thinking, you're all asking, "How is it 
possible to completely lose the field in just a matter of seconds?!?". 
Well, it's actually quite simple. We missed a turn.
As soon as I noticed some stragglers off the back turning a few hundred 
meters behind us I slammed on the breaks (cursing at such a misfortune) 
and starting screaming at Adamzsckszszk to turn around. Later, as I 
found out, there was actually no sign at the corner where we were 
supposed to turn, and only the riders who had pre-driven the course knew 
to turn there.
So by the time I got turned around and back on track I had already lost 
sight of the pack, and soon lost Adamzcszkzk's wheel as he rode off like 
a maniac determined to win the Tour de France. And so I pretty much rode 
the last 40 miles by myself, battling mentally to keep going as I fought 
with a fierce, relentless headwind. I could feel my 
beat-the-snot-out-of-everyone mode quickly waning with every mile 
because of the fact that there really wasn't anyone to beat the snot out 
of. In one flat section near the end I was literally on the verge of 
tears and was contemplating the option of pulling over and chucking my 
bike in a ditch and calling for a ride. Frustrated and pissed off, I 
screamed curses at the gusting winds as I inched along at 14 mph. The 
end seemed impossibly far away as my legs and back cramped up to the 
point where I could hardly shift in the saddle.
Finally, I rounded a turn and right smack dab before my eyes was the 
finish line, sitting there so calm and intent as if it were just as 
happy to greet me as I was to greet it. And better yet I didn't get a 
flat tire. And it didn't thunderstorm. And I won my category and got 
this super-cool looking trophy.
After I crossed the finish line I stopped and laid under a tree and 
drooled all over the place like a scrappy teenager. Hey, not everything 
in life is coated in gold.
'till next time,
-Jessi Prinner

6/16/2008

Parrish Report: Carrol County Cat 3's

The past three years, Theo and I have finished 2nd twice, 3rd and 4th but never first. With 10 miles or so to go, this looked to be our year. The 3's were whittled down to four with Theo and myself in the group with some remnants of the Masters 30 and Masters 40 field. The other two 3's were on different teams, so Theo and I should have managed at least a first right? There was some confusion as to how far out we were from the finish, my computer read 55 and they had said that the distance would be 60 miles. I was running on fumes and I knew if we went too early I wouldn't make it. So we waited. As it turns out, we rotated off the front of the paceline right before the finish and were not in good position as the actual finish approached. Theo managed to jump, I managed to explode and we finished 3rd and 4th. Bridesmaids again. Despite my annual announcement that 'this is my last year at this race', we'll be back next year to try again. Maybe they'll have that gravel fixed by next year.

All of the fields were awash in ABD colors, so it would be great to hear some of the other results....

6/11/2008

Spencer Report: Tour de Winghaven

Winghaven Race Report:

The team headed down to just west of St. Louis to do the Tour of Winghaven this past weekend. This is a large payout and the team was keen to do well. Rob White and I drove down on Sunday morning as the challenges of balancing family, work and racing can prove tough at times. We decided to compromise by being gone all day on Sunday. I think it is fair to say that both of us married VERY understanding women who clearly don't know how much better they could have had it. But, I digress...

While the sun appears to be in the sky each day, it actually lives just west of St. Louis and our race was held on it. It was roughly 100 degrees at the start, but at least it was crazy windy. We were to do 75 miles over 25 laps at a 2:30pm start. The scheduling of this event is interesting in that it is held the same day as Philly, so with one exception there were zero pros in attendance. This is good and bad. Good because we stand a nice chance to make some money, bad because we are good and marked accordingly. Essentially, this is a regional race with a huge prize list and extra motivation to make a little money.

Jeff S. got into an early move of 6 which proved the winner. The heat and wind helped temper the chase a bit and they rolled on and on to get a good gap. Unfortunately a second group noodled away with no ABD/Geargrinder representation. I will say however, that there were a couple of other teams that put nobody in either move which meant they were now racing for 12th at best. Again, maybe the heat and wind played a factor, but I was quite surprised by the lack of cohesive response. I asked one leader of these teams what gives and was told where I could go and how I could go there. While I don't think it is physically possible to do the things he suggested, I understood this to mean he was disappointed in the proceedings. Jeff's group and the second group rolled away quite quickly never to be seen again.

The remainder of the field beat up on each other for what seemed like two days and finally we got some guys into some field splits. Fortunately for everyone the laps were dwindling. Jeff S. and his group actually caught my pitiful little band and we were given a reprimand by the officials that we could not help our teammates and to stay out of the mix. This was disappointing because at that point, it was the sole reason I was still pedaling around this crazy course and no one else in my group had a rider in Jeff's group. While I am not sure this is an accurate ruling, I was not in a position to argue and/or ignore it and hope we were not disqualified. So, we stayed out of the way and I pulled out with 2 to go.

I find that Karma has a way of being kind sometimes. As a team, we respect our competitors and all associated with any event we attend. We have had a couple instances this year where the result may have suffered, but the team felt we did things the right way. It is my feeling that this paid huge dividends as with 1.5 laps to go Jeff crashed. John Meyers happened to be right by him and was able to give his wheel to Jeff to prevent what could have been a disaster (Reason one why I am not convinced on the above ruling). Amazingly, Jeff was able to catch his group and still beat two of the guys in it. I am quite certain that had Jeff not crashed, he would have pummelled the lot for the win. The only pro in the field won the race and the subsequent large check while Jeff ended 4th. Rob and Ryan rounded out the placings for cash and that was that.

Overall I think the team is coming together nicely. We have a good balance between young (John, Brett and Andy), mid (Josh, Rob, Ryan and Jeff) and old (me). Thanks goes especially to Julie Carter who fed the whole bunch of us all by herself in addition to "communicating" (read: yelling) at us over the radio. I think she likes bossing us around, but she did not have to provide such diligent feeds when we missed that second group.

Thanks for reading.

Steve

6/10/2008

ABD Shines at the Batavia Triathlon & Duathlon

ABD Multisport shined in Batavia despite overcast skies, oppressive
humidity, wind, and wet roads.
*
Kim Malmquist* was the first female duathlete across the line,
triathlete *Rob Fortelka* flew on the bike at 23 mph, the second fastest
ride of the day, and triathlete *Gretchen DeMong* smoked the run at a
blistering pace of 6:22 per mile!
ABD put 3 in the top 12 overall in the Duathlon with Kim in 8th, *Scott 
Pahl* in 10th, and *Keith Borkowicz* in 12th. Rob, Keith and *Cathy 
Webb* all snagged 4th in very competitive age groups, Gretchen finished 
2nd in her class, and Scott grabbed 1st in the over-50 field.
Congratulations to all!

6/08/2008

Prinner Report: Joe Martin Stage Race

Hi y'all,
Yeah, I know the Joe Martin was, like, so four weeks ago, but due to 
excessive homework and bicycle riding I was unable to write it 
earlier. I definitely feel, though, that I absolutely must write this 
report because I need to pay Sue S. some tribute for driving me down. 
By the way, Sue is not a Susan, she is a Suzanna.
After 10ish hours of driving on the interstate, Sue and I were tired 
and hungry as we finally arrived at our destination. If the drive had 
been only an hour or so longer, I probably would have had to resort to 
killing and eating my travel companion, but luckily we pulled into 
Fayetteville, Arkansas just in time. Knowing that the combination of 
road race and time trial would be hard the next day, we decided to eat 
at a cozy little hole in the wall Italian restaurant. We plunged into 
our food like rabid hungry wolves and not 30 minutes later, we were 
practically passed out on the table in our empty dishes.
The next day we made sure to show up bright and early to the first 
event of the weekend; the road race. The start and finish of this 34- 
mile road race were 11 miles apart, so Sue and I blithely decided to 
park at the start line and just ride the 11 miles back after we 
finished. After completing a good warm-up, I sat down in some weeds to 
stretch and not 2 minutes later I looked down only to find a giant red 
tick marching up my arm. I screamed, swatted the tick away, and bolted 
out of the grass. God, I never knew pavement could be so comforting.
As the road race started off, I felt antsy and ready to charge up the 
first hill I could find. As soon as the grade rose, I was at the front 
pushing the pace, and doing a great job of burning myself out. I only 
expected for there to be one or two hills to start, but the hills kept 
coming and the grade got steeper and steeper and I eventually 
regretted going so soon because my legs were starting to die. Then, 
just as I had feared, an attack struck and shattered the field 
instantly. I was left struggling to chase the front group that quickly 
pulled away, but I soon realized my effort was meaningless, and waited 
up to jump in the second chase group of 7 or so riders. We pacelined 
for most of the race until the main field caught us at the end, but 
lucky for me another lady attacked and we formed a smaller group of 
five and managed to stay away to the finish, where I placed 13th. The 
front breakaway had obtained over 5 minutes on us, and I knew by then 
that my conquest for victory would be fruitless. Then again, the 
possibility of pulling a "Landis" was always a chance as well, and 
then I could be cycing's newest scandal.
After the race, Sue and I, both delirious, began our long ride back to 
the car. As soon as we hit the first hill Sue and I decided that since 
our coach wasn't there we would get off and just walk the hill. And, 
as if that didn't make us look unprofessional enough, at that very 
moment it started to rain. I guess one lady in her car took one look 
at us and felt sorry for the poor buffoons walking up the hill in the 
rain and decided to stop and give one of us a ride. Her car was jammed 
with bikes and people, so she agreed to drive Sue back the 11 miles to 
her car while I stood there and held the bikes waiting. Well, at least 
she gave me her rain jacket, which happened to be bright red; very 
unnoticeable. So they drove away and I walked on until I found a mail 
box to prop the bikes up against, and then, looking for a place to sit 
away from the road and the grass, I finally resorted to sitting on the 
mail box to avoid the ticks, which I'm sure were eyeing me in my 
bright red raincoat . And so I sat there, not for the first time in my 
life, on a mail box in lycra and a bright red raincoat in a 
thunderstorm looking very much like a scrappy teenager. Yes, folks, I 
said thunderstorm, because not long after planting my behind on that 
mailbox a bright golden flash crashed across the sky and happened to 
catch my attention. Just when I was pondering whether it was such a 
good idea to be sitting on a mailbox as it was lightening, a small, 
sporty red car pulled up and a nice looking lady asked if I wanted to 
sit in her car until Sue returned. Normally, I might be a tad bit 
cautious of this situation, but considering the circumstances at the 
moment I figured, "Well, at least she didn't offer me candy" and 
hopped into her small, sporty red car. As thunder crashed outside, I 
found out that this lady was quite old and was the wife of one of the 
race organizers, so I figured she must be going through a mid-life 
crisis with her small, sporty red car. A few minutes later Sue ar 
rived and I thankfully waved that small, sporty red car away and 
proceeded to chuck our bicycles haphazardly into the Jeep as it 
monsooned on us. And just as I hopped into the passenger seat of the 
car it started to hail, and I'm not talkin' about little ice chips of 
hail, I'm talkin' about marble sized chunks of hail. "Was the perfect 
timing pure luck?", you ask. Naw, we're just that good. And we happily 
floated our jeep back to the hotel on a river that was once a road 
only to find that there was a severe tornado warning in effect.
Now cycling is quite a unique sport in that it will continue in pretty 
much all conditions. Despite the fact that there had been a severe 
tornado warning just and hour or two ago, the time trial still went on 
as schedule just a few hours after the road race had ended. The entire 
geography of the course was really quite interesting; the whole TT was 
2.5 mile uphill climb out of a valley with an average grade of 6.8% 
and steep switchbacks with a plunging drop on one side. And the name 
of the park it was in was just as fitting: Devil's Den State Park. And 
the ironic part of it all was that I used to go climbing in Devil's 
Den when we vacationed to Arkansas many years ago. Little did I know 
of how I would painfully suffer my way up that same climb years later.
So after changing in the woods (yeah, that was pretty cool) I hopped 
on my bike and began my long spin to warm up my sore legs. Then I 
trekked up to the start line just in time to be let off and begin my 
long, tedious climb up to Devil's Den. During the whole ordeal I 
passed two riders and ended up in 4th place.
The next day Sue and I were forced to wake up early to make it to the 
final stage of the day: the criterium. The course proved to be very 
tricky, with two quick downhill turns and a super steep uphill finish, 
not to mention that it was absolutely freezing out and I was wearing 
just about every article of clothing I owned at the start line. Of 
course, from the gun there was an attack that split the field almost 
instantly and I managed to cling on for dear life long enough to catch 
my breath as soon as they slowed down. I guess due to the fact that it 
was a women's race, it was only 25 minutes long because USCF officials 
apparently think that we'll all fall over dead or something if we have 
to ride farther than 12 miles. It was for this reason that the main 
field remained at about 20-30 riders for the finishing sprint. I 
finally felt blessed that it was an uphill finish, because that's just 
about all I can do in my junior gears, so I happily managed to take 
3rd and grab a time bonus to slide into 10th place overall.
And with all that being done and accomplished Sue and I, both tired 
and gleeful, sailed our way home to Illinois. Sure, I know my weekend 
in Arkansas wasn't anything like stage racing in Tokyo or France, but 
it sure was a heck of a lot of fun, and besides, I gotta start 
somewhere, don't I?
-Jessi Prinner

Prinner Report: Joe Martin Stage Race

Hi y'all,
Yeah, I know the Joe Martin was, like, so four weeks ago, but due to 
excessive homework and bicycle riding I was unable to write it 
earlier. I definitely feel, though, that I absolutely must write this 
report because I need to pay Sue S. some tribute for driving me down. 
By the way, Sue is not a Susan, she is a Suzanna.
After 10ish hours of driving on the interstate, Sue and I were tired 
and hungry as we finally arrived at our destination. If the drive had 
been only an hour or so longer, I probably would have had to resort to 
killing and eating my travel companion, but luckily we pulled into 
Fayetteville, Arkansas just in time. Knowing that the combination of 
road race and time trial would be hard the next day, we decided to eat 
at a cozy little hole in the wall Italian restaurant. We plunged into 
our food like rabid hungry wolves and not 30 minutes later, we were 
practically passed out on the table in our empty dishes.
The next day we made sure to show up bright and early to the first 
event of the weekend; the road race. The start and finish of this 34- 
mile road race were 11 miles apart, so Sue and I blithely decided to 
park at the start line and just ride the 11 miles back after we 
finished. After completing a good warm-up, I sat down in some weeds to 
stretch and not 2 minutes later I looked down only to find a giant red 
tick marching up my arm. I screamed, swatted the tick away, and bolted 
out of the grass. God, I never knew pavement could be so comforting.
As the road race started off, I felt antsy and ready to charge up the 
first hill I could find. As soon as the grade rose, I was at the front 
pushing the pace, and doing a great job of burning myself out. I only 
expected for there to be one or two hills to start, but the hills kept 
coming and the grade got steeper and steeper and I eventually 
regretted going so soon because my legs were starting to die. Then, 
just as I had feared, an attack struck and shattered the field 
instantly. I was left struggling to chase the front group that quickly 
pulled away, but I soon realized my effort was meaningless, and waited 
up to jump in the second chase group of 7 or so riders. We pacelined 
for most of the race until the main field caught us at the end, but 
lucky for me another lady attacked and we formed a smaller group of 
five and managed to stay away to the finish, where I placed 13th. The 
front breakaway had obtained over 5 minutes on us, and I knew by then 
that my conquest for victory would be fruitless. Then again, the 
possibility of pulling a "Landis" was always a chance as well, and 
then I could be cycing's newest scandal.
After the race, Sue and I, both delirious, began our long ride back to 
the car. As soon as we hit the first hill Sue and I decided that since 
our coach wasn't there we would get off and just walk the hill. And, 
as if that didn't make us look unprofessional enough, at that very 
moment it started to rain. I guess one lady in her car took one look 
at us and felt sorry for the poor buffoons walking up the hill in the 
rain and decided to stop and give one of us a ride. Her car was jammed 
with bikes and people, so she agreed to drive Sue back the 11 miles to 
her car while I stood there and held the bikes waiting. Well, at least 
she gave me her rain jacket, which happened to be bright red; very 
unnoticeable. So they drove away and I walked on until I found a mail 
box to prop the bikes up against, and then, looking for a place to sit 
away from the road and the grass, I finally resorted to sitting on the 
mail box to avoid the ticks, which I'm sure were eyeing me in my 
bright red raincoat . And so I sat there, not for the first time in my 
life, on a mail box in lycra and a bright red raincoat in a 
thunderstorm looking very much like a scrappy teenager. Yes, folks, I 
said thunderstorm, because not long after planting my behind on that 
mailbox a bright golden flash crashed across the sky and happened to 
catch my attention. Just when I was pondering whether it was such a 
good idea to be sitting on a mailbox as it was lightening, a small, 
sporty red car pulled up and a nice looking lady asked if I wanted to 
sit in her car until Sue returned. Normally, I might be a tad bit 
cautious of this situation, but considering the circumstances at the 
moment I figured, "Well, at least she didn't offer me candy" and 
hopped into her small, sporty red car. As thunder crashed outside, I 
found out that this lady was quite old and was the wife of one of the 
race organizers, so I figured she must be going through a mid-life 
crisis with her small, sporty red car. A few minutes later Sue ar 
rived and I thankfully waved that small, sporty red car away and 
proceeded to chuck our bicycles haphazardly into the Jeep as it 
monsooned on us. And just as I hopped into the passenger seat of the 
car it started to hail, and I'm not talkin' about little ice chips of 
hail, I'm talkin' about marble sized chunks of hail. "Was the perfect 
timing pure luck?", you ask. Naw, we're just that good. And we happily 
floated our jeep back to the hotel on a river that was once a road 
only to find that there was a severe tornado warning in effect.
Now cycling is quite a unique sport in that it will continue in pretty 
much all conditions. Despite the fact that there had been a severe 
tornado warning just and hour or two ago, the time trial still went on 
as schedule just a few hours after the road race had ended. The entire 
geography of the course was really quite interesting; the whole TT was 
2.5 mile uphill climb out of a valley with an average grade of 6.8% 
and steep switchbacks with a plunging drop on one side. And the name 
of the park it was in was just as fitting: Devil's Den State Park. And 
the ironic part of it all was that I used to go climbing in Devil's 
Den when we vacationed to Arkansas many years ago. Little did I know 
of how I would painfully suffer my way up that same climb years later.
So after changing in the woods (yeah, that was pretty cool) I hopped 
on my bike and began my long spin to warm up my sore legs. Then I 
trekked up to the start line just in time to be let off and begin my 
long, tedious climb up to Devil's Den. During the whole ordeal I 
passed two riders and ended up in 4th place.
The next day Sue and I were forced to wake up early to make it to the 
final stage of the day: the criterium. The course proved to be very 
tricky, with two quick downhill turns and a super steep uphill finish, 
not to mention that it was absolutely freezing out and I was wearing 
just about every article of clothing I owned at the start line. Of 
course, from the gun there was an attack that split the field almost 
instantly and I managed to cling on for dear life long enough to catch 
my breath as soon as they slowed down. I guess due to the fact that it 
was a women's race, it was only 25 minutes long because USCF officials 
apparently think that we'll all fall over dead or something if we have 
to ride farther than 12 miles. It was for this reason that the main 
field remained at about 20-30 riders for the finishing sprint. I 
finally felt blessed that it was an uphill finish, because that's just 
about all I can do in my junior gears, so I happily managed to take 
3rd and grab a time bonus to slide into 10th place overall.
And with all that being done and accomplished Sue and I, both tired 
and gleeful, sailed our way home to Illinois. Sure, I know my weekend 
in Arkansas wasn't anything like stage racing in Tokyo or France, but 
it sure was a heck of a lot of fun, and besides, I gotta start 
somewhere, don't I?
-Jessi Prinner

6/05/2008

Prinner Report: the snake and the melon--a fable

Hello Team,
Finally, for the first time ever I was granted permission to compete 
in the Snake Alley Criterium by my coach. Every year before that I was 
told no because "it was an extremely hard race and definitely NOT a 
race one does for pleasure". From all the stories I heard of Snake 
Alley through the years I pieced together a picture in my mind of a 
cobbled hill with a turn or two. Nothing in my racing career had 
prepared me for the real Snake Alley I came upon, though.
After arrival, I walked the course in search of this so called hill, 
and was skeptical at first because it was hard to imagine a 
cobblestone road in the middle of that severally urbanized city. Then, 
I turned the corner and my eyes popped out of their sockets. It was as 
if someone had cut out a picture of a rustic cobblestone switchback 
climb in Italy and pasted it in the middle of a modern day all- 
american city. I honestly had to pinch myself to finally believe it 
was real.
Not only was the "Snake" fully cobbled for maximum slipperyness, but 
it also boasted five or six hair-pin switchbacks as well. And, of 
course, since it was a hill it was set at a crazy steep grade, 
insuring plenty of lactic acid to go around. At the very bottom of the 
climb in enormous letters someone had written a statement in chalk 
which pretty much summed it all up; "THIS SNAKE WILL BITE".
Well, the one piece of advice everyone in the world and their cousin 
told me was to be at the front on the start line and the first into 
the snake because the first two laps would decide the outcome of the 
race. So I followed the advice of my fellow racers and went out of my 
way to make sure I was the first on that line. And just as I was 
enjoying my small victory the announcer had to shoot my efforts down 
and call, "staging!". So I grumbled in my most teenagerish way and 
rolled my eyes in my most exaggerated teenagerish way and clomped over 
to staging. And it was just my luck, of course, that riders were being 
called up by number and I happened to be plopped at the very back. All 
the while I thought, "Golly gee! Just where I wanted to be!".
Just as I had imagined the racers shot off the line like crazed 
shoppers frothing at the mouth to obtain their own Wii and fought with 
tooth and claw all the way up to the snake. It didn't help much that 
it also happened to be the largest women's field ever seen at Snake 
Alley, and the position of the riders at that moment were just about 
the same as their position at the finish. I pretty much battled my way 
throughout the race to pass only a few riders in front of me, and 
fortunately I only unclipped once going up the snake (yes, that is an 
accomplishment for me, though it was a major pain having to run up it 
in cleats like the scrappy teenager I was. I might as well have been 
running up a slip n' slide) and I ended up 27th out of 39. Yeah, I'd 
say that snake had one heck of a bite.
The next day as I sat at the line of the Melon City criterium I 
contemplated exactly how it was possible for there to be fifty 1,2,3 
women today when just three years ago there was hardly half of that. 
And it was by far the largest women's field I've ever raced in. With 
the first three laps being blazing fast, it was no wonder that we were 
dropping women like flies on the giant uphill, and our field was 
quickly reduced to a mere size of about 30 women. The blistering 
downhill into the speedbump was still just as fun as ever; that is, 
until a rider screamed, "waterbottle!" and I looked down only to 
realized my cage had been recently emptied
.oops

So then it came down to the final lap and the field surged as soon as 
the bell was rung. I jumped up the left and scrambled to make my way 
to the front up on the back stretch just as the pack fanned out and I 
was blocked out and forced to take a poor position nearer to the back. 
I received no such luck on the uphill either as the road was literally 
wall to wall with riders, and it definitely didn't help much that my 
foot came out of its pedal as I made the final sharp right hand turn. 
So I just managed to make 23rd, but despite my unfortunate positioning 
at the end, I was still just content to survive that wickedly tough 
race, which proved to be harder than ever this year.
And now that I've mastered the snake (ha ha) and learned the ways of 
the melon, I will definitely be back next year, and the ladies 1,2,3's 
will definitely have something to worry about

-Jessi