Climbing

On top of my family being in California and with all of the holidays, military leave and passes I have not been working very much this later half of December, instead I have used this time as a sort of solo pre-season training camp.

I'm starting to get to know the rangers at the Shenandoah National Park. Like many fellow bloggers, I have been going there often - 3 times in the last 4 days, the other day I did a loop with Dave Fuentes that included Mount Weather and 3 other climbs.

I am surprised not to see more riders on Skyline Drive climbing into Shenandoah. Although I have read other peoples accounts I have only seen two, neither of whom I knew. Last year at this time I avoided hills, the three short climbs on the 7am ride on Saturday seemed epic! Working through the suffering and the accomplished feeling of completing back to back to back climbs on Skyline (and the views) has me addicted to climbing.

The ride I did with Dave was pretty cool. With all of those great roads and climbs in his backyard no wonder he is so fit! We started out into a head wind, and just rotated pretty hard and steady across the flats through the rollers and up the climbs. Great roads, very little traffic. He dared me to big ring Mount Weather.

His dare had the air of a triple-dog-dare, so I had too.

When we swung off the highway and onto the road leading to the Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center I was in my 53x14 out of my saddle tapping away. As that long strait into heaven climb extended before me, my cadence dropped and soon I was in my 15.

Tapping away in my 15, I looked up to the summit - which now seemed farther than when I first started and dropped to my 16 for comfort.

The ache started to set in my legs and I could feel my heartbeat in my teeth but one look at the summit and one look back at the dot which was Dave and I knew I was half way.

Soon I was in my 17 and before I knew it in order to maintain cadence I was in my 18.

OK, three gears left and I'm starting to cross my chain. At this point I can see a county line sign - if I could just make it there, the summit is meters after it - I'm going to use my 19.

By the time I got to the sign I was sweating rivers and pedaling about 40 rpm. Those last few meters were insane and I was starting to wonder if I was going to be blown for the rest of the ride and have to sit on Dave's wheel the whole way home, but it took him FOREVER to get to the top so I was completely recovered. Just kidding, but not really.

We rode home pretty steady and rotating and didn't let up until we got to a bike trail which we rode for about 5 miles. While we rode the trail I was reminded why I hate bike trails as a steady barrage of recumbents came shooting around the corners like heat seeking missiles trying to take us out. Exiting the trail, his house was right there and I thanked him for the ride. My legs ached the whole drive home.

Channelling your inner Eddy Gragus

During the summer of 95, or possibly 96 I was on a composite team with Sacramento natives Vince Gee, Cory McKraken and some guy named Mike S. (who would later ride for some pretty good domestic pro teams). This was when I got the nickname 'tumble weed', while travelling across the country from California to a pretty big race in Idaho sponsored by a bank. We did the Idaho State championship the day before, and Mike, who was riding really well, won.

The bank race was cool. It was at night, with huge runway lights at our backs out of each turn on the course. The crowds, which were thick along the entire course, were given thousands of clicker things that produced an insanely loud blanket of sound that was only slightly rivaled by cheering. On top of all of this, every lap had at least a hundred dollar preme - so it was basically single file for over an hour.

Before the race, we decided to split everything even four ways. The goal was for each of us to collect as many premes as possible, then in the final laps I would hold us near the front and Cory and Vince would lead out Mike. I was told to key of of a guy I had meet earlier named Eddy Gragus.

When I meet Eddy, he was showing off some really cool looking wheels called Spynergys. Except for his wheel set, nothing about him seemed cycling intimidating. He was short, bald and hella funny - which led me to think it would be no problem to hold his wheel and then come around him, if he was even there in the end.

This four corner left hand turned race was insane. There were crashes every where and the smell of burning rubber in every turn as we skidded single file though them. Since it was at night, some of the crashes would just disappear into the darkness, which was kind of spooky.

We collected so many premes it was ridiculous! I would here our names constantly over the loud speakers. Although I got a lot of premes the effort to get them would leave me begging my body to recover as I battled to get back into the line. At one point I followed Eddy for a $500 preme. It was nuts, we were cutting, weaving, diving, skidding and eventually sprinting out of the last turn. He somehow maintained speed as I was skidding toward the crowd. In retrospect I think he chooses a jacked up line on purpose to shank anyone off his wheel to the curb. Crafty little SOB.

In the final laps, every thing went as planned. I collected my teammates, we went to the front and I found Eddy. With a thousand dollar 1st place on the line, guys were taking huge risks and crashing left and right. I remember looking around and seeing bandages everywhere on racers from earlier crashes. I was spooked. To make matters worse, Eddy's rear wheel was going 'click, click, click click' - AND he kept looking back at it. I was positive it was going to disintegrate and I was going to roll over him.

Then it happened, one lap to go and a lull. When things got sorted out, we were mid pack. Damn. From here to the line was the scariest ride of my cycling life. Again, we were weaving, cutting, diving going around guys sliding on the ground and even riding over one guy (which untrued my back wheel). The whole time Eddy's back wheel is going 'click, click' AND he keeps looking back at it.

Before the last turn we were all on the front. The combination of being positive his wheel was going to explode in the sprint and knowing he was going to take a jacked up line through the turn led to me letting his wheel go and taking the inside line. I heard a huge pile up behind me. Then the drag race to the line ensued. I was on the front with my team and what was left of the field in tow. Eddy was on the far right, by himself, and I suspect that anyone who tried to follow his wheel through that last turn was now mingling with the crowd. I led it out as long as I could then blew sky high but still coasted in for a top ten with the rest of my teammates. Eddy's strong ass little legs held everyone off, and Mike got 2nd.

Wow.

When I asked Eddy about his wheel after the race he said something to the effect that it always did that.

His style of winning was a combination of 'go ahead and follow my wheel, but it is your fault if you crash' mixed with a little trickery - a dash of craftiness and a pound of 'my strength and leg speed will kick your ass' .

Don't fear the Chuckster (or the reaper)

Today I drove to Skyline Drive for the first time and did climbing repeats to the visitors center. I wanted to do that 60 mile loop, but didn't have much riding time cause I broke my derailleur hanger and had to track one down and replace it before I left. I love that climb, it reminds me of California - but not as steep. I called some of my teammates before to see if they wanted to come, and here are their excuses:

Dave Fuentes - Had to do something to represent his job (meaning = scared to ride w/ the Chuck)

Todd Hipp - Had to travel for work (he gets scared when ever Dave is scared)

Russ Langley - Had to work, but wanted to come (scared but to proud to show it by pretending to have a job)

Keck Baker - I think he just peed himself and hung up. (very scared)

Sean Berry - School (yeah whatever, isn't it Christmas break? meaning = scared)

Brian Butts - Didn't answer the phone (pretending to be racing in China by passing off pictures of his twin brother who is really there to be him).

Evan Fader - Fearing the call, quit the team and joined Richmond Pro. (Need I say more?)

At this point I gave up, and just went at it alone. Come on guys, were all buds and I'll wait for you at the tops of the climbs!

Rock Racing Done?

That's what I keep hearing. I hope it's just gossip, cause that would suck if yet another team folded.

2nd AGAIN!

This year, I was consistantly the first loser. I got 2nd at the MABRA Crit, 2nd at the VA State Crit, 2nd at the VA State road race, 2nd in the VA Omnium and now to cap things off, 2nd overall in the MABRA BAR. AGGGHHHHH!!!!! I came so close to having a jersey, but came up short by one place 5 TIMES!!! Next year. Next year. Next year.


1 213 David Fuentes Battley Harley-Davidson
2 149 Chuck Hutcheson Battley Harley-Davidson
3 109 Ken Johnson Battley Harley-Davidson
4 93 Todd Hipp Battley Harley-Davidson
5 86 Evan Fader Battley Harley-Davidson
6 75 Kenneth Young DCV/Clean Currents/Beyer Volvo
7 73 Brian Butts Battley Harley-Davidson

W.O.W.

To motivate myself to ride today, I decided to work on my cycling weakness. If you have read my blog, or posts on other peoples blogs, and you even half-way care to remember - you know I can't sprint, climb or time-trial very well. I am good at everything else, just not these three. After thinking how these are my three weak event I start wondering 'how do I do well in races?' I guess the ideal is to break away with someone who is weaker at these events and hopefully beat him to the line. I just really rely on luck. My racing life is like some geeked out fat kids World of Warcraft role playing character, and every once and a while he does well on his roll of the dice - and I make it up the hill with the front group, solo in ahead of the field or win a sprint.

Power File 12.6.08: 3x10s

OK, I stole this ideal form Mike May's BRILF.net . I thought it was funny. I don't own a power thing, so when I see guys posting their power files they look like sound files to me.

Over training and coaches

My basic philosophy about this racing thing is to have fun. If I am not smiling, laughing, making new friends and feeling accomplished/ rewarded for my efforts - I won't do it. Simple. That said, I train hard.

I know that these days of riding in the cold will pay off next season. When I decided to race over a year ago, I knew I would have to get into that frame of mind where suffering was the norm. I love suffering. Have you ever gone so hard for so long your facial muscles start twitching uncontrollably, you drool, a sensation of pressure presses your whole body while you feel your heart beat like it's the size of a basket ball and you hear an increasingly louder banshee like phantom scream? God, I love that! I have never been one to burn out, or feel over trained though, if you are enjoying what your doing this won't happen.

I had a comment to the effect that "your retarded, you shouldn't feel this good this time of year, racing is in three months", or something like that. I took no offense to that, but it made me realize - I have never had a coach. I am sure maybe I could have used one at some point, but probably not. If a coaches time was worth what people expect to get out of them, they should be pretty expensive. I accomplish my realistic goals in cycling pretty consistently and I sometimes think that getting someone else to tell you how to ride your bike is mostly just a crutch to try and find a way around the hard work and suffering it takes to get good in this sport. Don't worry about me over-training, I don't burn out. I just get stronger, and in turn races are more fun (for me).

Found 'em

Since returning to racing, sometimes I have found it disappointing how weak I am when I think of how strong (I think) I was. I had an OK season last year, but never really found my groove - you know, where your not really hurting just tapping away at the pedals and absolutely flying. When you feel like this, training sails by and the results just happen.

I guess last year was just getting my body used to the motions and retraining it to suffer. I rode a lot of hard miles and raced often. To my surprise, I never came close to burning out, but I took about three total weeks off in October anyway.

All of the sudden... POW! I feel like old Chuck, the way I used to feel. I know it is only November, but I feel great and can't wait for the 2009 season. I love getting these base miles in and I am finally used to how cold it gets here.

So if your wondering why I am smiling now, it's because I had lost my legs and then found 'em - again.