Iron Man Louisville Report

Okay, here it finally is, the highly anticipated race report from IM Louisville.

As most of you know we left on Sunday, Aug. 23rd to drive across more than half of the country, caught a Cubs game at Wrigley Field on Thursday and screamed into Louisville on Friday. We are now resting in Loveland, CO and plan to hit 3 national parks in the next 2 days on our way home. Gotta love a country like this that you can freely go wherever, whenever you want.

On to the race report. Ironman Louisville is the only 140.6 with a time trial start which meant very early to rise to get to the transition and pump bike tires and put water bottles on the bike, crap forgot the water bottles, so I had to borrow one to from a volunteer to get me to the first aide station on the bike… Then it was about a 3/4 mile walk up to the start of the swim, then a 3/4 of a mile walk to the end of the line. During the walk I was “adopted” by some guys from Pittsburg, they’d done IM Louisville in the past and where really interested in Montana. Anyway, we sat in line for about 45 minutes, as soon as the pros started the line started to move up and we quickly walked up to the start, zigzagged down to the dock and across the mat, then shortly after crossing the timing mat (to start your time) I jumped into the Ohio River and start swimming upstream. I really didnt feel the current, but it was there along with the stench of diesel fuel… I could not see my hand out in front of me on my stroke, it was gross. The swim course took me upstream past TowHead Island then around buoys and back downstream, past the start to the transistion area. I was out of the water in about and hour and half which was about 10 to 15 minutes longer than I wanted. Later many people thought their swim times where long.

I felt okay coming out of the water, not dizzy or anything, just wishing for a shower… I ran from the swim exit to the change tent which seemed really long. on the way out the change tent I got sunscreened and off to my bike. ran with the bike to the exit and on the road, finally… I felt okay on the bike but didn’t feel like eating, like I usually do out of the water. Oh yeah remember the suncreen and the borrowed water bottle, you guessed it. Dropped about 1 mile in. I was able to get a water and a gatoraide at the first aid station, which was only about 6 miles in. I was feeling pretty good on the bike, wishing I’d ridden or drove more of the course. I was fairly timid on the first loop, people kept talking about hills and climbs and I didnt want to go around a corner in high gear and be stuck in the middle of a hill… I finally got a salted nut roll down and was able to start feeling better on the second loop. the aid stations and volunteer where great! there did seem to be a lot of riders with flats, but I did not see any tacks or kids throwing things as there are rumors. Also, there where people cheering throughout the course. I passed quite a few other triathletes on the second lap and had a chance to see Fernada and other pros (fly past me).

When I got back to the transition area I was feeling pretty good about my sub 6 hour bike. I started the run and was able to cruise pretty well for the first couple of miles. there was an aid station every mile, I ran past the first 2, just grabbing a cup of water on the way by. As the run course got back into the city before heading out toward Churchill Downs, it started to get really hot and humid. I had to slow down as I was getting a headache. I ate and drank and ended up walking way too much on the way out to the turn around and back into town. I was able to pick it back up a little as i left for the second loop, the crowd around the finish (which you pass within 1 block of on your way out for your 2nd lap) was rowdy and it helped. after the second loop turn around i forced myself to only walk the aid stations. Then at mile 23 I told myself only 5K to go and tried to pick it up.

I finished in 12:15 which is my slowest IM, but I feel pretty good about it. It was a hard race and a long way to travel, we are looking forward to being home. thanks to everyone that sent and email, called or just was thinking of me. I could not do an IM without the tremendous support of my family and friends. You are all great!
Mike

Valley Time Trial 7-23-2009

The temperature started at 92 and cooled to 87.  Barely a breath of wind to offer relief to the 10 riders who showed up to challenge themselves on a hot Thursday night.  Two newcomers, Kevin and Rebecca walked away with the Montana stickers.  Tough competition on the men’s side, with Karl securing first place in a scorching time of 13:29.  The next group across the line included Greg W. at 14:10, Greg E. at 14:35, Robert at 14:41.  Bill was next at 16:20, followed by Ken at 17:01, Kevin 17:06, and Tom at 17:11.  Jane was first of the women in 16:18 followed by a great first time ride by Rebecca at 18:21.
Thanks to Jenn Griggs for showing up to help.  Have a great weekend all – remember that next week is off, then we’ll resume the series back out on the valley course in two weeks.
Sarah

Hell Ride 7-21-2009

I had to go back an re-read last week’s Hellride report, first because it was well written and I sat down at my computer with an irritating episode of writer’s block; and second, because I now have a different perspective from which to read it.

A Tuesday evening at Spring Meadow Lake.  It’s warm, warm enough the beaches are moderately filled with swimmers, sunbathers, paddlers, the odd fisherman, and a plethora of effervescent, screaming/giggling, sand-throwing kids – summer at it’s best.  I arrived a little early – I certainly didn’t wish to be late for my first ever Hellride – and as six o’clock neared and I was the only bicyclist in sight, I was starting to think I was the only one who hadn’t answered the piper’s call of pizza, adult beverages and Tour de France.  Still, all things considered, it would have made for an interesting Ride Report, with alternating placement of Me, Myself, and I as the finishers for each of the stages.  Fortunately I was saved from a potentially narcissistic bender – or perhaps the onset of a split-personality episode – with the arrival of three stalwart adventurers who came to join the fun, the sun, the asphalt:  Jane O., Mark B., and Byron.  Hellride was on! A few minutes pause to hit the loo, and see if anyone else felt moved to ride, but 6:00 arrived and the word was given.  Snooze you lose, we’re outta here.

It would prove to be – as I had anticipated – an educational evening.  Beyond riding the Helena Century and a dozen-or-so Thursday night rides last year with some of the HBC crew, my cycling experience is limited to triathlons and solo rides, all within the last 13 months.  I’ve actually watched just one stage of the TDF.  The last time I was on a bike for any duration was while I was growing up, and there’s still a part of me that expects to feel the ponderous, pendulous weight of a hundred-or-so newspapers suspended in the bag draped from the handlebars.  Funny what you get used to…but I digress.

A steady, easy pace as we left the lake, and my three compatriots endeavored to give me a Cliff’s Notes version of how to do a Hell Ride:  pace lines, basic course layout, the basic objectives, some pace line etiquette. The first stage start/finish markers were described, and I started to prepare myself for what awaited after the second set of tracks.  Which begs the question:  how the H-E-double toothpicks are you supposed to prepare for something you’ve never done?  Easy- just DO it! besides, you’ve watched a stage of the Tour de France, you watched how the riders did what they do, how hard can it be?  I mean come on – a bike ride, by any other name, is still a bike ride, right?

Lesson Number 1:  A bike RIDE and a bike RACE are two entirely different animals.  Any similarity ends at the bike. That happy-go-lucky, give-’em-a-chuck-on-the shoulder, give-you-the-shirt-off-his-back buddy you rode with on Saturday does a Jekyll and Hyde at the Start Line, and you know, without a doubt, he or she will smoke you on the course if they can – no guilt, no remorse, no mercy.  It’s an A-game world now, and you best’ve brought yours.  It’s the essence of competition: you against the yourself, you against the course, and you against everyone else.  It’s a place where you can truly feel ALIVE.

A steady warm up, getting a feel for the other members of the pace line, the mind fast-forwarding through all the little stuff – are you going too fast, are you going too slow, stay on their wheel, watch the road for hazards when you’re pulling, are your knees tucked in, or are you still riding bow-legged, did you hydrate enough – and BAM! – you’re over the second set of tracks and the race is on.  Mark, Byron and Jane make quick work of the hill, and I’m keeping up, but I got caught flat-footed when the breakaway happened.  Holy cow, but things happen fast!  Over the hill, and into the stage, and at the next little hill, I make my move, and into the lead I go.  Drive it, push it, make ‘em eat your dust!  Dude, you’re in the LEAD!

Lesson Number 2:  Know  – exactly – how long the stage is.  Whereinthehellis that fire station anyway?  I STILL can’t see it. I didn’t think it was THAT far.  And then we must be getting close, because Mark does a breakaway, and leaves me like I’m standing still.  We’re still a couple of miles out, but Mark and the rest were resting in the draft zone, while I was pulling in the “Woohoo! I’m in the lead!” zone.  A mile or so from the finish Byron pulls away, and I’m talking to my calves telling them the absolutely cannot cramp until AFTER the fire station, because I just KNOW Jane is right behind me.  I don’t dare look back, I can just FEEL it.

Stage 1:  Mark, Byron, Steve, Jane

Stage two, I decide to try and learn something from the first.  I let someone else do most of the pulling so I have something left when I need it.  And I get suckered by newbie mistake number two, and try to jump when everyone else does.  To the rear with you New Guy.  One last big hill before the longer more gradual grade to the finish, and I take advantage of the downhill to close the gap and pass everyone else but Mark (who seems to defy gravity at times) only to have Byron pass me on the upgrade.  Legs on fire, calves threatening to cramp, I somehow manage to stay fairly close up the hill, grunting and growling like an animal (I dunno, it’s something I picked up in the Corps, but it seems to work) and catch and hold third to the finish.

Stage 2:  Mark, Byron, Steve, Jane

The third and final stage.  We take it a little easy on a very pleasant stretch of road, with Byron giving me an insight into the finer aspects of Road Racing 101.  I entered this evening’s activities knowing enough to know I knew squat, but at least now I can begin to put things into perspective. You can read about it, you can watch it, and those are helpful, but it’s something else entirely to get out and DO it.   We’re closing in on the final hill, and Byron gives me a game plan on how to attack it. I launch my breakaway, but instead of going all-out I hesitate – and lose the advantage.  It’s a close push to the top, but the hesitation costs.

Stage 3:  Mark, Jane, Byron, Steve

Now for the ride back to town, and a return of the riding buddies you started with.  The miles melt away as we visit back and forth, recapping the evening, sharing stories, drinking in the magic that is bicycling, and basking in the warmth of competition and esprit de corps. This is what life is supposed to be.  It’s physical, it’s mental, and it’s spiritual.  It’s looking back on your past and seeing who you used to be get smaller and smaller in the distance, until the image fades into the haze and becomes indistinct.  It’s noting the ache in your muscles, and the scratchiness at the back of your throat and feeling LIFE coursing through your veins.  It’s flipping the bird at Father Time and telling him “catch me if you can, you Cheeto-scarfing, sofa-loafing couch potato son of a [expletive deleted]!”  And best of all, it’s the anticipation and satisfaction of knowing that you get to come back out and do it again next week.  New group, new challenges, new lessons.  Hellride.  Hell yeah!

My advice to anyone who’s thought about it, but held back from joining in:  STOP!  Next Tuesday, get on your bike, strap on your helmet, and come out and Hellride!  You have no idea what you’re missing, and you’re gonna kick yourself down the road when you finally figure out how much freakin’ FUN it is!  Quit worrying about how fast you ride, or that you’ll hold up the group, or your shoes don’t match your jersey, or whatever excuse you’re hanging on to. Step out of your comfort zone and give it a TRY.  The only thing you have to lose it whatever it is that’s holding you back.  The life you change may be your own.

I dare ya.

Steve Creigh

Hell Ride 7-14-2009

There  are probably more reasons not to ride than there is to ride a road bike. However, quantity does not equate to quality.

There was a burly field of six riders that presented themselves for the ride: Robert R., Byron, Mark B., Jim, Eric and Greg W. rounded out the field.  As I was riding over I was thinking that there might be a fairly large field turning out to spin their wheels tonight.  Those of you that road ride know that it is an acquired taste.  Its like tomatoes, black olives, or spinach.  If somebody doesn’t like to road ride you can’t convince them otherwise.  For those that do ride you understand the sublime feeling of clicking off the miles in a pace line, jockeying for position in a tight pack of experienced riders, the freedom of coasting down the open road, the whirr of gears, and the whistle of wind through the frame and your helmet.

I maintain that riding on the road only gets fun when you are riding above 20 mph, and I still believe that axiom is true.  However, there is more to the secret of bike riding.

We all know, everyone who gets this email, knows that there is a certain barrier to the sport of cycling.  Let’s face it, mountain biking, road biking, cyclo-cross, single speeds, fixes, even downhill requires a certain base level of fitness to get into the sport.  We aren’t a team that has been formed to play horseshoes, bowling, or croquet.  Nothing against those pastimes but they don’t require the degree of fitness that spinning a wheel does to enjoy.  Spinning a wheel fast, now that’s where it gets more fun.  For me it’s not an incremental increase in fun, it is an exponential increase in fun the faster the wheel spins.  There is a theory regarding the perception of speed that posits your perception of speed is in direct proportion to your observation of the distance from the object that is moving.  For example you perceive speed when looking at the ground from a commercial airplane as slower than when you are looking at the pavement through an open car door traveling 25 mph.

Endorphins, blah, blah.  Adrenaline is my natural high of choice.  You get the latter by spinning the wheel fast whether it is down a single track, in a pace line, or sprinting for a finish line. The closer you are to that point, the faster you are, the nearer you are to edge of your limit—when you are sliding off the edge of the trail, or rolling at you max heart rate, the more fun and the more vitamin A.  The former is just a derivative.

So here is the raison d’être for getting out and riding consistently: for a brief moment, or two, or three; the universe narrows down to that thing in front of you, whether it is the finish line, the wheel in front of you, the guy next to you or behind you and you are simply responding to the ebb and flow of the group, the wind, and the road ahead.  You don’t have to necessarily think conscious thoughts about what you are doing, the legs are spinning circles, you know the road well because you ride it enough, you know where you are at in your training regimen, and all you have to think about is the next guy and what your strategy is to put your wheel ahead of his.  Doing that one thing well, and fast is what counts on Tuesday nights.  You are in the zone.   The thrill, the adrenalin rush, the endorphin ride, the stress of the day melting away, the camaraderie, the trash talk are all fringe benefits.

Here are the results from tonight’s ride:

Stage 1

1 Eric

2 Jim

3 Greg

Stage 2

1 Eric

2 Mark

3 Jim

Stage 3

1 Greg

2 Mark

3 Byron

Hope to see you out there next week…

Mark

Hell Ride 7-7-2009

Six of us gathered lakeside for our weekly grunt on ol’ Birdseye, the lake was full of multi-colored swim caps as most triathletes decided to swim prior to the Spring Meadow Triathlon, which essentially is a lame excuse as to why they are not tuff enuff to hang with roadies. As we began our paceline out along the railroad tracks my well worn tires succumbed to a tiny piece of glass which was discovered promptly after inflating a brand new tube, lucklily Byron had an old extra tube, that was patched like his spandex, and Mark lent me his pump which was only capable of 60 psi inflation. As everyone waited patiently for my repair, Jason showed up barking about how we all left early and he was on time. The rest of the ride entailed some pack riding and with me trying to chase down Jason for the sprints on underinflated tires with a very fun sprint at Lincoln Road where he was able to hold me off by a half of a wheel.

I was expecting more riders to dust off their bikes and show with the start of the tour and the excitement for bike racing. I’ve been hearing some rumors but I thought I’d share the excuses for all to hear.

Gail has finally had enough post-race dance embarrassments caused by Randy and she has enrolled him in dance lessons which unfortunately are scheduled for Tuesday nights. What Gail doesn’t know is that he signed up for European techno-funk instead of contemporary swing. He showed me some of his moves the other day and he is quite nimble for a lanky white guy and it was only mildly innappropriate. He also has a renewed use for all that neon spandex from the 80’s and he has been feverishly downloading David Hasselhoff music to his ipod.

Eric has been spotted on some Hellrides so he must have finished his slipper knitting project. He excitedly told me about his new endeavor, he is working on a pattern to knit us all team arm warmers for next year.

Craig Pozega is working with school aged children over the summer break, teaching them how to properly whine.

Russ works on Tuesday night, but the real reason for the job is that his fragile ego needs the constant attention from all the pre-teen girls (and boys) that frequent the pizza joint.

Furlong, there was something on the swimming listserve about Steve helping him shave his body, that’s all I read and I don’t want to know anything more.

Where has little miss trash talking Laura Erickson been?

Greg Wirth

Hell Ride 6-30-2009

Rally (Hell) Ride 6-30-2009

6:55 p.m. Spring Meadow Lake: Tom from Boston is looking for a pump. Lucky for him, the newbieteam rider drove his vehicle to the park and happens to have one. Pumped up and ready to go, 11 riders are greeted by Greg and Meagan on their commuter bikes who taunt the group, saying something about not wanting to kick our butts, and head off for some lazy time on the beach. Robert lays down the rules and the plan and off we go. Karl from MT Velo flats on the rotational pace line out about a mile; Robert hangs back and the group slows. We regroup at the main-line tracks for a short respite for the repair. Laura, the only women in the bunch, tries to keep it light, but some of the boys already have on their game faces. I’m just happy to be there, but soon realize my initiation includes the Hell Ride write-up. Now weighted down with that worry and responsibility. I think sh*t I barely know a couple riders and am just hoping to hang on through the climbs to the fire station let alone keep track of who is in front. And the ever-present eastern Montana training companion, W-I-N-D, is steady 8-10 mph out of the west.

On the first race leg, it doesn’t take long before Robert and Karl are gone, and coach Byron scratches his head wondering if anybody is going to give chase. Nobody really does. The pack’s pace picks up while riders jockey to position for their own attacks. I can’t even see Karl and Robert any more. Somewhere near cardiac arrest, Laura pulls up along side of me offering some encouragement. I crest the final hill in the back third of the group. With my heart pounding loudly in my ears, I not sure if I hear the results right, but I think Karl took the stage, Robert a close second; Tom, Mark Brooke, and Bill Schneider all climbed strong and finished in the first group.

The next stage was more mellow, generally the pack stayed together, and ended with COW-a-Bunga of the big black sort right in the middle of the last hill before the final sprint. Distracted the group scattered in the wind with, guess who?–Karl taking that stage again.

And finally on the Lincoln Road stage with a strong TW all you could hear was the whir of chains and gears and the hum of thin tires on pavement as the paceline rolled over the hills homeward at 35+ mph. With my eyes watering so badly from the speed I was more worried about not clipping the wheel in front of me than paying attention to who was leading–no malicious intent just bad velo sport reporting.

I want to thank all the more experience riders for the cautious support given while riding in tight quarters with a newbie. The really cool thing about the ride is that you get to be in fast company that gives out plenty of tips and encouragement, nearly in equal doses with the ego-crushing smack. It was so much fun I’m sore today.

Respectfully submitted,

PS: feel free to edit or add info as necessary.

Newby Team Rider

Randall Green

Hell Ride Report 6-23-2009

Out of nowhere, Greg Wirth (worthy Wirth) nominated me to write the Hell Ride Report (what the hell?), so here it is – p.s. I did graduate.

A total of 18 riders showed up last night for the weekly Hell ride. Do you think we may have to change this ride to the Tour De Hell? What a crowd! Even the Great White of Great Divide showed – The Grove, Eric Grove that is, along with many other all-time great riders. I knew this was going to be a full on pedal dance. After Robert Ray, concluded with the rider info trac we began our ride. 

After the first set of rail road tracks, we formed our pace line. It was a large one at that, so we didn’t stay in the pace line very long. After the second set of RR tracks, the smell of competition came over all of us. It was a true swordfight.

Everybody seemed to hold their composure as we crested up the first hill. After, the whistle stop, three blew by to begin a hard effort. (I believe it was Tom, Jason and possibly Robert Ray?) It was too fast and my vision was dramatically impaired by the glare of lite speed and chicken legs. 

I figured I would hang in the back and in the vicinity of Wirth and Grove (as long as I could) to watch the match-up. Before I knew it, they both powered by me with the speed and power generated by their blood doped enhanced legs. The gap between them and I became bigger then I wanted. However, my legs did not so much want what my brain wanted. (Just kidding about the blood doping – just in case there are any drug investigators on this mailing list).

As they ascended the first hill, it was a matchup of power for the finish between Eric, Greg and Jason (the guy with the 1993 steel trek with down tube shifters-”SWEET”), and Boston Tom. In the hindmost and at the top of the hill, I asked who took it. With a non-chalant and humble (John Wayne/Elvis like) response, “I did”, replied the Wirth (Greg Wirth that is). 

Now was the time for the second sprint. We all held a steady pace as we rolled up and down the hills. We were all pretty tight, almost to close for comfort. I held back to enjoy the draft. Everybody seemed to hold off as long as possible. Only the brave dared to spin it up. All of a sudden, in a flash of a second, Mark and Robert Ray zipped down their jerseys to show their chest and manhood and sprinted away. They were off. A couple of minutes later, Eric and Greg whipped out their terminator like crazy legs and bolted off. I ensued with no prevail. Near the end, it was a power sprint. Great White Grove pushed passed my point of pain threshold and won the sprint. 

We all gathered by Silver Star. It was time for the third sprint. It was an unusual headwind from Silver Star to the base of the third hill. The pace remained at about 22-25 mph and everybody kept conservative. I knew in my mind it was just a matter of time before the attack. As we reached the base of the third hill, things got crazy. I had a choice as we crept towards the third hill- Either spin it super fast or try to power it. I chose to spin it. Bad choice, because to the left and to the right of me, was the power. I felt the Hamer come down on me (Dave Hamer that is) and then I knew my strategy failed me. I quickly changed to my big ring but that did not help. As I looked beyond the horizon, It was Tom, Eric, Greg Jason Dave, and the Ramsey Brother (with the Kabush sideburns-didn’t catch his name). Boston Tom took it with Eric closely behind. 

What a great ride, with a great group of people, in a great town. What more could you ask for. Lets do it again and this time lets aim for more riders.

J. Hamilton

Rally (Hell) Ride 6-16-2009

5:45 As usual, running late riding hard across town to get to spring meadow on time for the weekly Hellride, my favorite training day of the week. On the Upper Westside I run into Shane Mundt adjusting his seat height, I lend a hand to steady his bike. Never enough time for bike maintenance which is always needed when you need to be somewhere! Adjustments done we make it on time for the ride. 

6:00–14 cyclists are divided into three teams so that we can work on team tactics this week. Lucky me, I have Greg Wirth on my team, who won all three stages last week. We receive the ride instructions and sprint finish locations form Robert Ray and we are off. A little windier than last week, but par for late spring in Helena. Later my Garmin reported from Helena Airport weather station 77 degrees and winds from the WNW average 11.9 mph high of 17.2 mph.

First effort to the fire station, Shane’s off the front with a tough effort into the wind. I am not feeling it so my lead out for the team members is non existent, and I cruise in with Mike Jacobson. He gave an extra effort and beats me across the line. Man that is always a tough hill. No biggie, I will give the second stage a better effort, after all, I’ve gone off the front in a break away on the second one before and held off the peloton. I’ve even won with a nice sprint. Certainly I can give it a good effort. Hmm, I’ve also gone off the front, been hung out there to suffer only to be reeled in and left for dead! Part of the beauty of this ride, you can dare to be great and win a big ego boost, or you can dare to be great, get clobbered and gain some real fitness, come back and do it again. It’s a win no matter. So we regroup at the fire house. I learn three things: One, I’m nominated to write up the race report; two, Greg Wirth won the first stage (I was so far back and not paying attention to learn this firsthand); and three, the team in the lead rolls out last on stage two. . .lucky me, Greg is on my team, we head out last.

After team one and team two head out, we casually follow. I’m thinking, Come on team, they are moving. . . lets go! Mike Jacobson takes control and bridges our team up to team two. I peter out and fall off again. Not my day. I watch as everyone goes by, but so far out that I again cannot see the finish. Again, Greg takes the win.

Fine, I’m just going to cruise with the wind on the third stage. I sit back and am amazed at 35 plus miles per hour with zero cadence. Drafting, downhill with a tailwind is cool, but I’m not really working on my fitness. That’s ok, I’m tired and I like sitting in the back. I watching Sarah lead, who turns it over to Mike, who leads/pulls everyone for the majority of the stage. I watch the hard effort of Mike, man he’s got to be tired! I watch the sly, experienced and amazing Robert Ray position himself . . . strategizing, like everyone else, for the stage win. Waiting, resting and watching everyone else just fly down the road. But hey, didn’t you see Shane? We are getting toward the end and Shane is still way off the front. Aren’t `YOU’ going to chase him down? Ok, the hill is coming, time to go. I swing out to go around. I catch Greg’s wheel just as he makes the jump. I think, Greg’s on my team, but who cares, if I can, I am going to pass him! No chance. 1/3 up. I’m not looking back. I don’t have too. I know Robert is there. . . he always is. I don’t know how many times he has passed me at this point. Last week he passed me in the last five yards. Zoom, there goes Tom (from the East coast–Boston?) and Big Jumpin’ John Tietz both passed by me then Greg with authority going first and second place, repectivly. We all pass Shane 2/3 the way up who gave it a valiant effort off the front for several of the miles. Shane probably had the best workout, but no stage win today. Greg crosses third, I come in fourth and Joe Hamilton is fifth. Hey, I didn’t get Greg, Greg didn’t sweep, and Robert didn’t pass me! 

The Hellride has something for everyone. The climber can win stage one, the daring time trial specialist can take stage two, and the vertically challenged can cruise along with the peloton at high speeds in stage three. Regardless of your ability, we always regroup and challenge ourselves. If you haven’t come out yet, do so. You might enjoy it as much as I do.

Dave Hamer

Time Trial Results 6-11-2009

ANNOUNCEMENT: Team Great Divide’s Hill Climb Time Trial is this Thursday, June 18 – 6:30 start time. Meet on Park Ave., across from library. Finish line is near the end of the pavement in Unionville, approximately 4 miles. Prizes for everyone!

For more information, click on the following link:

http://teamgreatdivide.wordpress.com/time-trial-series/

please note – my contact phone number is incorrect. For more info, please call at 459-1308.

Results: Last week’s Valley Time Trial was sizzling hot, sizzling fast! Great Wirth edged Scott Herzig by a mere 5 seconds, both riders breaking the 14-minute barrier with a 13:52 and 13:57. Dave Hamer took 3d with a 14:13 followed by Rick Finley, 14:36; Robert Ray, 14:56; and Byron at 16:12. On the women’s side, Laura Holien proved to us all why she’s the course record holder—despite her noticeable absence from the time trials as of late. Laura blazed across the paint with a 14:55. She was followed by Sarah Slanger, 16:01, Jane O’Driscoll, 16:18; and Meghan Trainer, 17:18.

Marysville Road

The new carpet to Marysville

Historic marker on the edge of Marysville

The road to Marysville has been paved this summer and is a wonderful road bike ride up and down. The loop from Helena is about 46 miles if you add a little Birdseye Road. During the week there was still some construction traffic and a pilot car which I ignored, but no other cars at all.