Snow season!

The Nissan gets the season's first dusting
Looks like I'll be cleaning windows pretty soon...
gonna need a better brush

I'm back in Saratoga after a wonderful holiday weekend in Brooklyn. It was pretty much the perfect Thanksgiving celebration, and the only thing missing was about 10 hours of sleep... but, as I always say, you can sleep when you're dead.

Of course, to say it was the perfect holiday weekend is not quite truthful. I could have done without today's snowy/slushy/sleety garbage. I knew I was in for a mess when I left my parent's house at 8 a.m. in the midst of a driving sleet. I encountered flurries all the way up I 87, and by mid-afternoon, when I was safely ensconced in the office, it started snowing in earnest, and sticking. Which means that it's time for my second-annual first snow post.

The snow begins to stick in the parking lot
I've got several months of getting in the plow's way to look forward to!
What a wonderful season...

For some, like Dante out in Alaska, it's been snowing for weeks, but for us here in Saraotga Springs this is the first time we've seen snow stick around long enough for pedestrians to lay fresh tracks in crunchy whiteness.

Of course, calling this snow is a bit generous. Although there were some fluffy flakes in mid-afternoon, as I write this, it's really more of an accumulating, freezing sleet. Be careful on the roads.

The goal is to keep your vehicle parallell to the direction of travel
Please excersize caution on the roads...
lest you wind up like this guy

While driving home this morning, I passed a pretty serious accident on the thruway just north of exit 15. A black SUV had somehow become wedged between the guardrail and a semi. Needless to say, I hope everyone in the car is OK. heading in the opposite direction, a small sedan had apparently lost a jousting matching against a highway overpass, and wound up with a well-crumpled hood as a result.

From exit 15 until I got to the Kingston area, freezing conditions persisted, and there were many, many cars off the road. I was content to cruise along at a stately 55 MPH. The benefit, aside from staying on the road and keeping my hood intact, was that I made it to Saratoga on about 1/3 a tank of gas -- nearly a record for me.

For such a bad-looking accident,
there was surprisingly little police presence
Traffic was delayed about 20 minutes.

But back to the matter at hand. It's winter outside. I got in three solid days of riding while at home for Thanksgiving (including an excellent 4.5 hour ride up to Piermont with Scott and Ben on Friday), and I'm damn glad I did, because your guess is as good as mine as to when the next time I'll be able to get out on the road. I can't say I'm really excited about that. Looks like I'm fully committed to rollers/trainer for the next little bit. Woo hoo....

Of course, winter has many upsides as well. Skiing, to name one. But it's hard to keep this in mind when all we've got in town is the icy rime. Hopefully I'll be able to muster some winter enthusiasm (winthusiasm?) in the coming months. Until then, please be safe on the roads!

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's after midnight, so it's safe for me to wish you a happy Turkey Day!

Me, I'm planning on celebrating with a bike ride in the morning, followed by a trip to Westchester, where my family is going to have a holiday meal with some old family friends, the Brady's. And by "old friends," I mean it in the sense that we've been friends for a long time.

With most of our family spending the holiday with the "outlaws" this year, we were grateful to be included in this, our surrogate family.

Thanksgiving, whether based on a bogus tradition or not, is my favorite holiday of the year. It is the only holiday that serves only to bring families and friends together to share in love and company, regardless of race or religion. The food is always good, the company is always fun. What could be bad? As far as I know, that's what we should all strive for, all of the time. That's what every holiday should be.

Eat a lot of turkey, give generously, and happy holiday! I will resume regular posts on Sunday.

Planned obsolescence

Trusty Samsung, it's stuck by me for two years
It fills all my needs: voice, text
But it's been brought down by its Achilles heel

There's nothing I hate worse than having to pitch out a perfectly good piece of equipment. I like my tires good and worn out before I relegate them to the trash. I like my clothes threadbare before I'll stop wearing them to work, and I've yet to feel that I've ridden a bicycle to the point at which it's no longer rideable -- this is doubtless part of the reason I own five bicycles. After all, why get ride of something that's still perfectly usable.

I've never been one to get something new "just because." Such habits, while good for the economy, are not sustainable, and so I generally try to avoid them.

Sadly, electronics do not lend themselves to longevity. My first computer, a Sony VIAO, which my parents bought for me in 2001, made it just slightly longer than four years before it kicked the bucket. Now I'm working on treating my MacBook as nicely as I can, in hopes that it will last longer.

Cell phones are even worse. I was a late adopter of cell technology, getting my first phone around the time I graduated high school, in 2003. Since then, I've killed two phones, and just learned today that my current phone, which has become inflicted with a seemingly minor, age-related software issue, which cannot be fixed due to Verizon's inability to service their own phones, leaving me to replace the device, and send the perfectly-usable old one to the landfill. (Or hopefully to a domestic violence agency.)

The issue is that while using my headset to talk to Dante on Sunday, the phone repeatedly brought up some kind of a voice activation menu (a feature I never use), which terminated the call. This happened repeatedly, and seemingly at random. It was not an issue when I arrived home and made some calls without the hreadset.

The "technician" at the Verizon store told me that the problem was symptomatic of the jarring the phone received every time I flipped it open. I put technician in quotations, because he didn't seem able to do any technical work, short of telling me that there was a problem. He wasn't even able to tell me if it was a hardware or software issue.

When I asked about repairing the phone, his answer was "Well, your phone is out of warranty, so we can't replace it for free, but we could give you a new one for $50."

"No," I said. "I asked if it could be fixed."

"Oh," said the "technician. "Yeah, we're not even allowed to open the phones up."

So there you have it.

Of course, my phone's demise just happens to coincide with the end of my two-year Verizon contract, so I'm eligible to get reduced pricing on a new phone. But, I like my phone, and don't feel any particular need to replace it. So what's a journalist to do?

It seems that I'm destined for a new phone, be it an exact replacement of my current phone, or something totally new. But, I'm not happy about it, not at all.

The reason being, of course, that whatever this issue is, it seems to me that it ought to be a relatively simple fix: just tell the voice-activated menu to not come up at random. How hard could that possible be? And yet, now I'm getting a new phone.

I wish that hardware companies would design electronics to last beyond the next product cycle. Sure, some people are always going to want the latest MP3-playing phone, and those people are going to buy new phones anyway... so why do you need to force me to buy a new phone if I'm content with what I've already got?

This consumerism is going to be the death of us.

What's better than Blue Mondays? Andrew in Velo News

If you were going to read something other than this blog, I hope you'd consider pointing your web browser over to Velo News, the journal of competitive cycling. This is the magazine of record for professional bicycle racing in the United States, and I'm proud to say that on occasion I've been able to work for them.

I awoke this morning to find several emails about one story they'd posted today. I was not surprised to see this story, since I wrote it, but it does always feel good to see my writing published in something other than The Saratogian.

Of course, that's a roundabout way of saying that you should go check out this story, which is about promoter Dieter Drake's efforts to secure international status for the 2009 Tour of the Battenkill Valley. Doing so would likely attract a deeper pro field, and raise the stature of what is already a premier pro/am race.

I was grateful that my editors at Velo News accepted the story after I'd sniffed it out. If politics, intrigue, and bicycles are the kinds of things that interest you, go check it out.

Happy birthday to me!

So, by now you've probably noticed that I forewent my traditional Thursday post. That has happened several times in the past few weeks, and it's bad. I'm sorry, I'm going to kick the habit (although, I probably wont kick the habit this week, as I will not be posting on the holiday).

In any event, the reason I didn't write on Thursday, is that Friday was my 24th birthday, and I was out kicking off celebrations on Thursday evening. (After all, your birthday starts at midnight, right?)

So, now my calendar age has finally caught up with my racing age, (although I'm still striving to get to my 'cross age).

Birthday's are funny, because now I'm a year older -- but I feel pretty much the same as I did on Wednesday. I don't suspect that I'll feel radically different tomorrow either. But no matter -- a birthday is a great excuse to get out with friends, and that's pretty much what I did all weekend. Eryn, a close friend from Brooklyn, generously came up to visit, which set the weekend off on the right tone -- as did the cake she brought with her, and things just seemed to fall into place from there. Not even breaking my car key off in my driver's side door or getting called back to work late on Friday to re-write a story that had been accidentally deleted were able to dampen my spirits.

And now, since I didn't get around to it on Thursday, is a special birthday edition top- and bottom-five list:

The five best things about getting older:
1) Older and wiser.
2) Growing facial hair makes you less likely to be carded.
3) Feeling like I identify more closely with adults than college students.
4) An excuse when my hips and knees pop and crack.
5) A deeper appreciation for passing time.

The worst things about getting older:
1) Well... You can't resist the march of time, so I'm not going do dwell on the down sides -- and besides, if there are any downsides, I haven't found them yet.

Hybrid what?

A couple weeks ago I encountered a Chevy fuel cell vehicle on the highway. More recently, on my way home from the New York City Marathon, I encountered something even stranger. Brace yourself... here... it... comes....

For all the engine's power...
I still out-paced on the highway.
But I'm less concerned with achieving maximum swagga time.

The red truck in my rear-view was a hybrid Cadillac Escalade. Hybrid. Escalade.

Those are not two words I ever though I would see used to describe the same vehicle, and yet, there it was. Up until seeing the shiny truck cruising up I-87, I was not aware that GM was in the business of manufacturing rolling hypocrisy. Apparently they are.

Escalade. Hybrid.
I know, I didn't believe it either,
but there it is

I'll spare you my usual evaluation of the vehicle, because nothing I write here will add to the insightful review by Ezra Dyer of the New York Times. Just know that I will still look down my nose on anybody who drives such an over-the-top vehicle... and think that because it has a hybrid engine they're doing their part to reduce demand on foreign oil. You aren't.

You'll know it if you see it
It says hybrid an every possible spot
But it's big as a semi

On Test: Schwalbe rubber

Now on test... Schwalbe Stelvio
I've been running -- not rocking -- these for the past couple weeks
Never season, I might run -- not rock -- white bar tape to match

After last week's discussion of the custom Serotta Ottrott that I was able to race at the Bethelhem Cup, I decided it was time for another product review. For the past couple weeks I've been running, courtesy of Blue Sky Bicycles, black and white Schwalbe Stelvio tires on my training wheels.

For nearly as long as I can remember, I've run Continental rubber nearly exclusively. While I've experimented with other brands including Michelin, Hutchinson and Vredestein, I've always come back to the German made Conti brand.

In my experience, there is no tire that manages to be as confident in corners, as fast in a straight line, as supple on varied surfaces, as resistant to flats, or as durable. I typically run Grand Prix Four Season tires on my training wheels, and Grand Prix 4000 tires on my racing wheels. The heavier four season tires typically last at least one season, and on one occasion, they even made it through the better part of two seasons.

Of course, I tend to use equipment beyond the point at which it advisable to replace it. But this is all a roundabout way of saying that I am a) brand-loyal, and b) resistant to trying new things. But I could not have dreamed of turning down an offer from my manager at Blue Sky to take a pair of Schwalbe tires with a small knick in the sidewall home to ride.

In this multi-colored world
I'm getting back to my monochromatic roots
Black and White is the new Kodachrome

I mounted the tires (23mm, by the way) pretty much immediately, temporarily relegating a half-used pair of Four Seasons to the parts box, and have now been riding the Schwalbes for about three weeks. These tires are completely slick, without even the minimal tread present on Continentals, the Vittoria Evo series, or a few others.

My initial impression was that they were very sharp looking on my Scott Addict R4. The white stripe in the tires, although it doesn't show up well in the photos here, compliments the white frame very well. If I wind up running these tires next season, I might re-do my bar tape in black and white to complete the effect... because, as every good cyclist knows, it's much more important to look good than to ride well.

But I digress. Color notwithstanding, these tires have some interesting characteristics. I typically run my contis at 115 psi, so I inflated the Schwalbe tires to that level and went out for an hour ride around Saratoga Lake.

At that pressure, the tires felt mushy, rolled slowly, requiring greater effort to accelerate and hold speed. Worst of all, they felt overly grippy in turns -- as if they were suddenly going go catch on the tarmac and pitch me off the bike and onto a tangent through the turn.

I was very turned off by the first ride, and very nearly switched back to the contis immediately, but I hesitated and realized that tires are rated to handle pressure up to 145 psi, so I went up to 125 psi, and went out for a ride through Charlton and Providence, along Lake Sacandaga, and over Lake Desolation.

Here's the rig with Schwalbe tires installed
It looks faster,
but looks aren't everything

At the higher pressure, the tires were much improved. They rolled fast, felt competant, rather than hesitant, in turns, and were noticeably more solid beneath the machine.

The dirt section of Fox Hill Road also gave me a chance to further evaluate the tires' competence on varied terrain. I'll give them a "fair" rating in this regard. At 125 psi, the ride was harsh, and handling was twitchy. I had one scary moment when I was taking a smooth line on the left side of the road, only to have to quickly change lines to avoid an oncoming vehicle. The front wheel slipped out under me on a washboard.

I was able to recover, but I've never had anything like that happen with my contis. Of course, I suspect that everything I didn't like about the tires at 115 psi would make them ride much better on dirt, so that's something to consider if you're the type of person who regularly rides dirt, as I do.

During the test period I did not suffer any flats, even while riding on rain-dampened roads last Friday. Of course, flats are like coin tosses... there is always a chance of getting either result, but sometimes you get lucky. I believe the frequency of flats has little to do with tire selection.

The bottom line is that I'm enjoying these tires for the time being, but will probably stick to Continentals in the long run. They were nearly indistinguishable from other tires on the road when properly inflated, and the slightly decreased performance on dirt makes them less appealing to me.

The tires retail for about $58, which puts them in the same ballpark as most other high performance clinchers. Their incredible traction at lower pressures leads me to believe that this might be an ideal tire for someone who regularly rides in the rain or on dirt... but I've never had any problems in either of those situations using Continentals. Of course, Continental does not make a tire with a white stripe...

Can you believe I just wrote 900 words on tires? Neither can I.

Down with plastic!

That's a lot of wasted plastic
Are you doing your part?
I'm trying to do mine.

I spent the better part of the evening a meeting of the newly-forming Saratoga Sustainability task force, whose first meeting I covered for work.

The meeting was interesting, though, as one person in attendance pointed out, everyone there is already in the choir. Including me, of course. One thing that was brought up at the meeting was the scourge of plastic bags that leak from shops, restaurants, museums, and even doctor's offices around Saratoga, and pretty much everywhere else too.

Plastic bags are something that I've decided to make a statement on in my own life by taking cloth shopping bags with me anytime I hit the grocery store. My trusty messenger bag is almost always adequate for day-to-day shopping that comes up outside of my weekly run to the Ghetto Chopper. For others, this concept appears to be much more of a challenge, and I routinely see people leaving the chopper with relatively small quantity of groceries swaddled in a veritable cloud of white plastic.

Makes me sick. And, don't even get me started on talking about how, even if you eschew plastic for cloth or middle-of-the-road paper, most of your food is still coming packaged in plastic. For the longest time, I was buying pre-sliced cold-cuts for lunch, because I thought the tupperware containers it came in were recyclable ... they aren't. Instead, I was inadvertently sending still more plastic to the landfill. Uhg. I've since switched back to regular deli-sliced turkey, which comes in a slightly smaller amount of plastic. At home, some of our delis used to wrap cold cuts in wax paper... what happened to that?

Too Greenpeacy for you?
Sorry... just wanted to make the point
platic kills pengiuns. Do you want to kill a penguin?

So anyway, this is all a roundabout way of saying that I hope the sustainability task force gains traction with a number of issues they're working on, including plastic bags. Everyone has a knot of old bags under their kitchen sink, and no one knows what to do with them.

Sure, they can be recycled (if you happen to live near a recycler), but it would be far better to not manufacture them in the first place.

So, read this article in The Times about Mayor Michael Bloomberg's proposal to impose a 6 cent per bag surcharge on plastic bags in the city, as some European countries already do. It's an interesting take that points out that ditching plastic isn't as universally-loved a concept as you might think it would be, or might like it to be.

What I took away from the article is that people like the spontenaity afforded to them by plastic bags. You don't have to keep bulky coth bags with you all the time, and you don't have to plan your shopping. Well, that's good and fine, but we can't have it both ways, and if a small surcharge is one way to convince people that they ought not use plastic bags, then the city should do it. If you ask me, an ounce of forsight is an easy way to save 6 cents, but that's just me.

It seems to me that such a charge would fall into a similar category as the state tax on cigarettes. Raising the tax raises money for the state, but also drives some smokers to quit, or shoppers to use different bags. It's a good way to raise money in the short term, but the government should not look to it as a long term financial solution, because, hopefully, someday no one will be smoking or using plastic bags, and certainly not using both at the same time. I suppose then the government will have to impose a tax on high-fructose corn syrup, or whatever the next thing they want us to quit is...

New writings, new digs

Obviously, five bikes in the living room
Two have now moved out to the landing
And I found an out-of-the way place for the wheels

Tonight's post comes from the comfort of my brand new, used bed, in my new bedroom at 106 Caroline. After the most exhausting 36 hours in recent memory, I'm now more or less settled into my new quarters on the East side. I'm really looking forward to going to sleep, so much so, that I'm doing something I hardly ever do, and working in bed.

The move was relatively painless. With help from three friends, Jamie, Steve-o and Steve, everything had been transported from Second Street to my new pad in a matter of hours. Thanks very much to all of you!

A kitchen counter and the long hall to the bathroom
The kitchen, living room and dinning room are all in one
large space

Of course, once we'd moved everything in to the apartment (which, by the way, is a third-story walk up), it was up to me to organize, straighten and unpack. This is an ongoing process, though I think I've got everything in a state that wont send my room mate running when she returns to the apartment.

That's a lot of stuff in my bedroom
I've since got things straightened out...
almost

We're still missing a few key pieces of furniture, like a kitchen table, but I think we'll be able to secure one in short order. Other minor inconveniences include the lack of curtains or blinds on my east-facing window, but I'll take care of that soon enough. In the mean time, I'm trying to find the best place to store all of my bikes.

In addition to moving, I also had my most-recent 'cross column published this weekend. This one is about mud, cow shit, and racing through a combination of the two. Enjoy.

Moving and shaking

Well, I've spent the past two days up to my elbows in packing, and I'm just now finally getting ready to call it a day. At this point, I'm almost entirely packed, with only a few last things to take care of in the morning.

Once I settle in to my new place in the coming days, I'm never leaving. This moving crap is just not worth it. So, today's post comes a little late, and I'm sorry, but I've been busy. this week's top and bottom five list comes with a 43 Second Street theme. Perhaps next week I'll have a 106 Caroline theme.

The top five for 43 Second St.
1) Morning light in the living room and kitchen.
2) Space for six bikes in the bathroom.
3) My first apartment as a semi-real adult.
4) The colors on the walls. I'm not sure who thought them up, but it works!
5) Quiet 'hood.

The bottom five for 43 Second St.
1) Low ceilings.
2) Cold in the winter.
3) Not always enough space for things other than bikes.
4) White carpets. Never a good idea.
5) Slippery stairs up and down.

Onward and upward... to bigger and better things

In just three days, I will have moved out of my apartment on Second St., and into my new place on Caroline St. Although I've got a lot gripes about this place, it has been a fun place to live for the 54 weeks. It was the first place I ever truly lived on my own, and I learned a lot about responsibility, finances, relationships, and even home repair while living here. I'm looking forward to being able to stretch in the morning without hitting my elbows on the ceiling, but I will miss this place.

When I first moved in, I posted some photos. Now that I'm moving out, I took a few more photos. Most things seem to be about the same, except that my collection has exploded to six from two bikes, making my bathroom a little crowded. It's a good thing the new apartment has plenty of space!

Anyone who's been here has seen the goofy bathroom
It took me a long time to get used to cocking my head to the side to pee.
Otherwise, I'd hit my head on the ceiling.

This is what it looks like when you put six bikes in a bathroom
Hopefully I'll sell the mountain bike soon
Five bikes is totally reasonable...

I've got lots of good memories of this kitchen
From recently burning Israeli cous cous
To family dinners, this was always a warm table.

The stairs in and out
Tricky to navigate in cycling cleats
But I managed

The bedroom in its usual state
Making the bed is just such a waste of time...
Looking back, I wish I'd spent more time sleeping over the past year

And, bedroom number two, AKA, walk-in closet
That stupid portable closet nearly fell over so many times
But it got the job done. We'll see if it makes the move

The living room futon
Much time spent here:
blogging, chillaxing, falling asleep in front of the TV

The endless stack of dishes
At least these are clean
Usually, the pile was in the sink, and dirty

Somber notes... happier notes

I've alluded to what I'm about to write over the past few months, but I've not yet made any a clear statement.

It's funny. This blog is mostly about bicycle racing, but it's also about me, a 23-year old writer living in Saratoga Springs. This blog, just as a novel, movie, or TV show, exists in a certain world with set parameters. Most of the time, those parameters (time, place, characters) are determined by my life, but sometimes things happen in life that don't make it to the blog. Not often, but every once in a while. Sometimes, when that does happen, I suddenly realize that I need to update the parameters of the blog to catch you up to my reality, so that the narative of the blog can continue to unfold. Tonight is such a night.

Back at the end of August, Becky and I broke up and she moved out. There are a lot of reasons for this change, and they are sacred, so I'm not going to enumerate there here and now. Maybe someday. Not now. As far as I know, she is back in Rhode Island, preparing to start grad school in Boston, come January.

In any event, our lease ended then and we were both planning on leaving Saratoga, but it didn't pan out for me, and so I'm still here. Since August, I've been living in the apartment alone and without a lease. The flexibility of not having a lease was nice in theory, and I've greatly enjoyed living alone. Paying the whole rent was not so much fun.

So, come Saturday, I'm moving from The Rocks (aka the North side) to the East side. I'm very excited about my new apartment, which is on Caroline St., only a couple block from work and the rest of downtown, and closer to most of my friends. I'm sharing a two-bedroom apartment with a room mate who responded to an ad seeking a room mate that I posted on Craig's List. I'll post some photos of the new place soon after I move in. Saturday is the big day, which means that sometime soon I'm going to have to start packing up this place. I'm not looking forward to that task.

Earlier tonight, Jamie and I moved a bed (given to me by James) from Quaker Springs to the new apartment. Although the move was not without its trials (how do you bend a box spring around a 180-degree bend?), but we got it done. On Saturday, the rest of the move takes place. Much swearing and sweating should get it done.

In other news, today is Veteran's day. I wrote a Veteran's Day post over on my City Desk Blog. Give it a read.

Bethelehem 'cross photos

I rustled up some more photos from Sunday's 'cross race. This first one comes from John Onderdonk's wife, who was spectating. The rest from from photog-superior Barry Koblenz. Overall, I think these photos do a good job of depicting the suffering and excitement that is 'cross racing.

This was the decisive attack on the last lap
John pulls away to take third, using his superior running engine
It looks like they're asleep, but the fans were going nuts on the sidelines.

The off-camber, downhill section was one of the hardest parts of the course.
Here, I'm demonstrating the preferred technique:
eyes where I'm hoping to go.

The run up.
I'll be honest. I just like photos that make my legs look ripped.
However, my technique is atrocious.

Curtis White, on the right
takes a well-deserved win in the senior ranks
Nice job!

Here's some mud.
I was able to ride it pretty well on all but the last lap
I'm not sure what happened then.

Here's traffic on the run-up on the first lap
I'm toward the back, working my way up
Things got better from here.

Here's another shot of the off-camber decent
Lap one, before I moved up
I used the mud to get through traffic

I finally 'crossed fast!

Ugly and damn inefficient: my double-footed release on the base of the run-up
John is on the far right, this photo was taken by his wife
I double-foot released my way to fourth place today.

The NYCross.com 'cross series wrapped up today with the Bethelhen Cup in Delmar. I approached this race as I've approached pretty much every other 'cross race I've done this year, showing up with scarcely enough time to get ready, and still hanging around chit-chatting for a half hour when I should have been getting dressed and warming up.

The race had about average turnout, and started unceremoneously with a whistle from Gary Toth. Of all the courses I've raced on this year, this was without a doubt the one for which I was best-suited. There were long grassy straightaways on which I could turn a tough gear to catch and distance myself from other racers. There was only one really difficult turning section. However, the course wasn't all easy-pickings.

There was not one, but two run-ups. The first of these was very greasy, and punctated by log-steps, which helped a little, but it was not easy going. Once on top of the first run up, we raced through 6-inch deep mud, which made traction hard to find. The mud was followed by a very technical gravel descent, then another steep and long run-up.

Ottrott 'cross bike was my weapon of choice for the day
It's good to have connections
This bike is a small bit nicer than my Kona

For today's race, I was riding a custom Serotta Ottrott 'cross bike equipped with Mavic Ksyrium SLs, a Campy Daytona drive train, WTB mountain drop bars, and Paul canti brakes. The bike, which turned heads all day at the race, belongs to Serotta production manager Scott Hock, who used to work with me Blue Sky Bicycles. Scott broke his foot at the season's first 'cross race, and when his doctor advised him against mounting an SPD cleat to his cast, he offered to let me borrow his bike.

For those who don't work in a bike shop, the Ottrott is a carbon/Titanium hybrid, with the ti doing the heavy lifting, and the carbon providing some dampening in the top tube and down tube.

I've never been one to think that equipment can surpass physical fitness, metal preparation, or skill; and I love my Kona 'cross bike, but I have to say that Serotta is one sweet ride. It stuck lines through turns as if it were on rails, and it accelerated like a ferrari. Plus, it's pretty easy on the eyes, and I got to feel very pro when I brought my Kona to the pit in the traditional style, riding the Serotta with one hand on the Kona's stem, the bike rolling along next to me. So pro today.

WTB mountain drop bars look goofy,
but felt surprisingly natural, and imrpove handling
I might even consider them for my bike

Of course, my good-will toward the bike was certainly spurred by a fourth-place finish, my best-ever result in a 'cross race. I have to think that I was motivated, at least in part, by the desire to not be that guy riding a $6,000 bike... in last place.

So, the race went like this: I somehow found myself in the mix at the start, and was able to pass people on the long gravel sections. I'm not the fastest runner, and on the first lap, someone put their shoulder into my back as we were scrambling up the hill. This later turned out to be Steve Hoppengarten, from Union College. He was bragging about shouldering me after the race, but it's OK, because I pulled ahead of him immediately after that run, and didn't see him again.

Campy Daytona drive train.
This was my first experiemt with Campy
The verdict: a whole lot better than Shimano 105 9-speed, but that's a low-pass standard

Because the course put a premium on power, I was able to put big gaps into other racers on the wide-open straight grassy sections. On the second lap, I was in the top ten. One the next lap I'd moved into the top six. A lap later, I'd moved into fourth position just behind John Onderdonk, with whom I did battle a couple weeks ago on Lake Desolation.

Curtis White, 13, who I believe is the current or former state champion his age group, and another rider were in first and second. John and I were in third and fourth. It was clear that we weren't going to catch the leaders, but the race for the podium was on.

The bike had a 50-tooth big ring
That's real big for 'cross, and I didn't use it once,
although I tried to

I was faster than John through the mud and some of the technical spots, but we were pretty evenly matched on the straight-aways, and he was killing me on the run-ups. The last few laps saw me leading into the runs, him catching me, me pulling ahead in the mud, only to have him catch me again on the next run-up. At one point I think he was getting worries, because he kept asking if I wanted to go get my pit bike. Fat chance.

With one lap to go, I put in a big acceleration on the grass, and got a little gap, which I held on the off-camber descent. I was still leading into the first run-up, where he almost caught me. My plan was to go hard through the mud, and try to establish as much of a gap as I could. The plan backfired when, even though I'd ridden the mud clean on every previous lap, I bobbled, and had to run, enabling John to catch me. I still led him into the gravel decent, but we started the last run-up more-or-less even, and he was much faster up the hill. I put in the strongest chase I could manage through the last turns, and very nearly caught him on the run into the finish, but in the end, I ran out of real-estate, and he took third with me in fourth.

Good race John, like we said on Lake D, you got me next time! In reflecting on the race, aside from boggling the mud, my biggest mistake was trying to shift into my big, 50-tooth ring for the finish. The drive train was too clogged with mud to shift, and I lost time trying to make it go. Oh well.

This was, without a doubt, the most fun I've had in a 'cross race. I know that it has to do, at least in part, with the fact that I always have more fun when I'm in the hunt, as opposed to out of contention in the back. And having a sweet bike to ride didn't hurt either.

We shouldn't lose focus on the big picture here. Despite today's very exciting result, I still suck at 'cross. Although I was doing OK with my dismount on the straight run-in to the barriers, I had a real hard time with my dismount on the steep hill at the base of both run-ups. Scared of not getting unclipped in time and crashing, I took to executing a double-footed release, followed by a reverse-slide off the back of the saddle. Ugly and damn inefficient, but it got the job done. On one lap, I actually heard someone on the side of the course remarking, "Damn, we've got to work on his technique." It might have been Chris McBurnie, but I'm not sure. Whoever it was, you're right. My re-mount also continues to be an atrocious affair with many stutter steps and much flailing.

After the race, people who knew me all wanted to know how I'd managed such a dramatic improvement. I mean, here's the guy finished 80th last week at Northampton. Had I been practicing? Was it really just the bike? Had I started a new -- ahem -- training regimen with -- ahem -- medical supervision?

I'll be honest with you, the only thing I did different leading into this race was to get a good night's sleep and to abstain from adult beverages on Saturday. Whodathunk success could come so easily?

By the way, Curtis won the race, and despite what the hecklers were saying, I think it's just fine to get beat by a young man with as much talent as he's got. I would have like to have stuck around and raced the elite event as well, but I had to hit the office. Next time.

Barry Koblenz was out there with his camera, perhaps we'll have more photos later in the week.

The word... form New Zealand

A brief Saturday update.

Rob Martin, the handcycle racer that Doug Von Bushburger and I escorted last Sunday, made an appearance on this blog. Check out what he has to say here. It's not too often I get a hit from so far away!

And now back to the weekend...

Wow... what a week

When I think back to last Thursday, and all of the things that have happened between then and now, it's hard to believe that it it's only been seven days.

Let's see. Last Friday, I worked a full day at Blue Sky and the Newspaper, then enjoyed some Halloween festivities that last late into the night. On Saturday, I drove to Mass., did a 'cross race, then drove to Brooklyn. On Sunday, I shepherded disabled racers through the New York City Marathon and caught up with old friends. On Monday, I drove home and put in a full day at the office. Tuesday... well, you know about Tuesday. Wednesday was all about trying to stay awake, and Thursday was all about working for the weekend, which is now, mercifully here.

Wow. What, me, burn the candle from both ends? No...

So, I'm a little tired. Not as tired as last night though, when I fell asleep while watching "Bones" on Fox. It's a minor miracle that I managed to post anything here last night. So, I guess I'm doing a little better.

I never got to write about last Saturday's 'cross race, so I'll have to get to that next week. No worries, this weekend I'll also be wrapping up the NYCross.com series with a race in the Bethelhem Cup, so we'll have double 'cross action to look forward too.

Mostly, we won't have any elections to look forward too, and that's the important thing.

Tops from the week:
1) Whether your candidate won or lost, you have to admit, this was one helluva election.
2) Spontaneous celebrations at Skidmore on Tuesday.
3) Eight days until I move to the East Side, baby!
4) Riding in the marathon, and helping out the second-place athlete.
5) Things are coming along for a very special event in 2009. Stay tuned...

Bottom from the week:
1) I'm so damn tired...
2) My continued and failed attempts to prepare Israeli couscous. Believe it or not, attempt 1 was much better.
3) Ballot measures in California. Not a victory for liberals.
4) Today's web training. It would have been nice to be writing...
5) Rain. All weekend. Good. damn. it. At least I may get some work done around the apartment. Maybe.

Election Day Hangover

So, it's all over now.

I'm sorry I never managed to post yesterday, but it was a long day. Election day began nice and early when I went in to the poll to vote. It continued with me writing some skeleton stories to be ready for the tight deadlines. Then I went out for a bike ride, came home, showered, and got ready for the evening's work.

Around 8:30, I went to the posh Gideon Putnam Hotel, where area Democrats were encamped to watch the returns. In our pre-election strategizing sessions, we decided that of the two races I'd be covering on election night, the race for the NY 20th Congressional District was the most important, and with Democrat Kirsten Gillibrand looking like the likely winner, the powers that be sent me off to her party at the Gideon Putnam.

It was a very fun place to be after about 9:30 p.m. when the returns started coming in it was looking likely to swing toward an Obama victory.

In the moment's ebulance, it was hard not to get caught up in the moment's excitement. But, of course, I remembered my place, held my applause and refrained from allowing myself even so much as a smile when Obama won Florida and Ohio. The leader of the local Obama chapter whipped the crowd into a frenzy, shortly before Kirsten Gillibrand took the stage to offer a victory speach.

Following her speach, a bevy of reporters, myself included, swarmed around her, pelting her with questions, which she happily answered. With the crowd thunderous in the background, fueled by liquor and flush with victory, just being in the room produced something like a contact high. There was a positive energy in the room, the likes of which I've hardly ever experienced.

This was a stark contrast to what my colleagues who spent the night at the GOP camp reported. Somber was the word of the evening.

Fortunately for me, there was no such thing as somber at the Gideon. It was an extremely exciting place to be on election night. Unfortunately, I couldn't stay for the real party. At quarter to 11, I jumped in the car and flew as quick as traffic would allow back to the office.

I pounded out two stories: one on Gillibrand, and another on a local judicial race, and then sat around in the office, stressing over whether or not my stories were OK, and whether or not they would fit into the spaces alloted for them.

Eventually, when all the pages were sent and the computers were shut down, sometime around midnight, we all walked over to one of our local watering holes. Maybe it was a celebration. Maybe it was the marking of a milestone. Maybe it was mourning another election come and gone. Who knows, but we shut down the bar.

A couple of my younger colleagues (like, my age), and I came back my place to continue to revel in the day's fading excitement, and wound up talking late into the night. For so many reasons, it was a night I won't soon forget.

Unfortunately, work was rough today on not nearly enough sleep. And now I have to go to sleep to compensate.

The marathon, by bike

The leaders of the wheelchair race
As in the Tour, the leaders were preceeded by cameras
slightly slower than handcycles, we passed the chairs around mile 20

As noted yesterday, I spent Sunday volunteering as an escort for the elite handcycle athletes in the New York City Marathon. In lieu of today's post, please enjoy the column I wrote for Tuesday's Saratogian, and some photos I took Sunday morning.

It was freezing cold on Sunday morning, so while waiting for our charges to arrive, myself and other escorts spent time holed up in a hospital waiting room, where it was nice and toasty. Mmm... toasty. Escorts work in teams, and my partner for the event was Doug, an NYC-based racer who rides with CRCA/Organic Athlete. Getting to know a new person added to the fun of the event.

Following the marathon, I went for a quick jaunt up to the Pallisades, by which time it was warmer, and pleasant. All in all, it was a great day on the bike.

Escorts are lined up and ready to go

A duo from the the front of the line jumps off to flank this racer

I jumped the line, which turned out to be a good thing

NEW YORK CITY — Nothing can makes me cringe quite as quickly as the thought of loosing the use of my legs.

For 35 of the elite athletes competing in Sunday's New York City Marathon, the inability to use one's legs is not an unpleasant thought, it's reality.

Before the 39,000 runners took off across the Verezano Narrows Bridge, athletes in wheelchairs and handcycles begin their race, held on the same course.

Both the wheelchairs — which the athletes propel by pushing on their high-tech chairs' two rear wheels — and the handcycles — which are propelled by turning a hand crank akin to a bicycle's drive train — make use of wheels strikingly similar to bicycle wheels.

Early leaders in the wheelchair race

Kurt Freanley, on the left, won the event for the third-straight year

As in 2007, a team mate helped him set a fast pace early in the race

Racers in both events also use tactics similar to those seen in bike races, with both chairs and cycles drafting off each other to cheat the wind and banking through turns.

And, both the chairs and cycles can cruise.

The winner of this year's men's handcycle race, Arkadiusz Skrzypinski, 33, of Poland, completed the 26.2-mile race in 1:35:26, an average pace of 3:38 per mile, or around 16 miles per hour.

By way of comparison, the winner of the men's marathon, Marilson Gomes Dos Santos, of Brazil, finished in 2:08:43.

Because the chairs and cycles go off 35 minutes before the first runners, the course, while closed to traffic, is not yet completely clear of traffic, pedestrians and errant pigeons.

That's where I came in.

For the second year in a row, I volunteered, along with about 70 other cyclists, as an escort for the elite disabled athletes.

Each handcycle or wheelchair in the elite division was accompanied by two cyclists, who rode slightly ahead of the athlete on either side of the road to ensure that no one interfered with his or her race.

Just as with the elite runners, there is glory, prizes, and money on the line for the elite disabled athletes, and having someone's race interrupted — or prematurely ended — by an errant pedestrian would hurt what is a premier race for disabled athletes.

Aside from the fun of riding through New York City on closed streets, volunteering for events such as this is a good way to update one's Karma, so I was happy to make the trek down to the city.

Richard Rosenthal, center, does not like parties

He makes it all happen

Here, he's giving us final instructions

For the athletes — disabled and not — the race starts with a long uphill grind over the Verezano Narrows Bridge. The cyclist escorts are staged on the Brooklyn side of the bridge, and as the chairs and cycles come flying off the bridge, we sprint to catch up to them and assume our flanking positions.

Each year, escorts are given strict instructions that we are not to speak to, cheer for, or otherwise encourage or communicate with our racer. We are there only to ensure that he or she is able to run an interference-free race.

Even so, it's hard not to get caught up in the race's excitement.

As we waited at the start, we saw Skrzypinski come flying off the bridge, leading the handcycle race (the slightly slower wheelchairs had started earlier and were already ahead). Two escorts jumped out of the queue to catch him.

A couple moments later, two more cycles came flying by and my partner for the morning, Doug, another racer based in New York City, and I took off.

We were soon busy waving, blowing our whistles and yelling at pedestrians as our racer, Rob Martin, 42, of New Zealand, flew down Brooklyn's Fourth Avenue.

We could see Skrzypinski ahead as we raced toward Queens, and it was all I could do not shout at Martin to go faster, we were almost catching him. But of course, that would have been a breach of protocol.

Of all the neighborhoods we raced through, Green Point and Williamsburg, both in Brooklyn, kept us escorts the busiest. Here, residents seemed to be under the false impression that the roads had been closed for their convenience, and walked into the middle of the road without as much as a glance to check for traffic.

Much whistle blowing ensued.

Then there were men and women who entered the street, in a seeming act of defiance, clearly aware of the race in progress, but with an attitude that their crossing the street without any delay was the most important thing in the world.

No amount of whistling, arm-waving or yelling would move these obstinate individuals from their course. I finally took to pointing my bike directly at them. That seemed to put a little more spring in their step.

The race ended for me in Manhattan's Central Park. The racers fly south on the park road, before exiting the park at 59th Street, then race across town to Columbus Circle, hanging one last right-hander into the park, and cruise to the finish.

With barricades and police in the final mile, escorts are no longer required, so we ended our ride at 59th Street.

Martin went on to finish second, in 1:37:07. I'd like to think that having Doug and I clear the path for him made his race a little easier.

A glimpse at things to come...

This was a really busy weekend. Friday was my favorite faux holiday, Halloween. After a late night Friday, racing the B race at the Cycle-Smart International 'cross race, round five of the VERGE New England series, was painful, to say the least.

After the race, and after sticking around to watch the pro men's and women's races, I drove down to Brooklyn. I had a few hours to catch up with Mom and Dad, eat a bit, catch a few Zzzs, then it was out in the freezing cold for my second year volunteering as an escort for the elite wheelchair and handcycle athletes. I got home, showered, and then spent the afternoon catching up with Eryn.

I'm going to be writing detailed reports of both events in the coming days. I'm holding off on it because I've got lots of photos, but I'm still in Brooklyn, and my cable to download the photos is in Saratoga. So check back for the complete package.

The brief synopsis: The 'cross race was a horendous experience of suffering on a bicycle. I do have to say, the course was a lot of fun, and I did finally manage to beat Eric Schillinger, of CBRC, although I'm not sure he knew we were racing.

On Sunday, I had the privalege of escorting one of several elite handcycle athletes who competed in the New York City Marathon. I wound up riding along with the man who finished second in the event. After my camera failed in last year's race, I was successful this year in taking some photos, which I'll be posting soon.

Just one other note. As you're probably already aware, there's an election in two days. I'm going to do my best to post on scheduled, but I'm also going to be very busy at work. Check back regularly for updates, but don't be surprised if I miss a post, expecially on Tuesday.