Sunday, 17 June 2007

Born Under A Bad Sign

This morning looked so promising. I got up early and finished dealing with a table refinishing project that was threatening to turn into one of those lingering messes and made a great breakfast. Following that I went to the pool and got some quality base work done on this year's savage tan.

Rolling down to the RFK race seemed like a great idea, so I got my stuff together and headed downtown on bike. Just over Capitol Hill, I catch a flat. Upon investigation, it's not just a flat, it's a pretty nasty sidewall cut. Awesome! Patching it up as well as possible with the tin from the backside of a flat patch, I made it to RFK with plenty of time. No trouble getting in off the waitlist.

The first few laps were mellow, but Route 1 was still showing a lot of strength at the front. Several laps in, I tried to bridge to a couple of their guys who had gotten away with an LSV guy. The LSV guy was easy enough to catch, but the Capitol Hill guys were working really nicely together and it took a bunch to get them. In fact it took so long that the race pretty much came back together as soon as I caught them. After that, a bit of stupid riding on my part. I should have gone back to the bunch immediately, but instead went with the counter, which wasn't a very strong counter. After the start/finish, Butter rolled up to me and said "let's go." Sweet, except at this point I was a little past my sell by date, and I kind of screwed Butter when I gagged back to the field after taking two pulls. Punishment was swift afterward, when some chucklehead from Georgetown Cycling crashed into my back wheel on the back straight, smashing my derailler into the spoke and breaking 7 spokes. Wheel cooked, race over. Little word of wisdom when stuff like that happens, Mr. Hoya - apologize when you brutally screw up and cost someone a race and a couple hundred bucks. If you had just said "hey, I'm sorry," I would think a hell of a lot more of you than I do now.

Doug Owens and his wife Kerry win good guy of the month award for driving me home, which was only about 45 minutes out of their way. Thanks guys!!!

So this week I get to go to the bike shop and buy some tires and spokes. Hoo-RAY!

1 comment:

Jim said...

Thanks for posting that bro. My wife asked what happened 'to that poor guy with the busted wheel' - now I can tell her.

FWIW, the Georgetown guys messed up a few races for me last year as a 5 - the classic move for them was to race as a pack within the pack, typically gumming up the road and doing a great job of blocking for the leaders. Inexplicably, they never had one of their own in the lead group and just worked to drop the rest of the peloton. Fortunately, by mid-season, I lost my manners and would just elbow my way through them. I saw the guy you were referring to BTW - I was trying to sit in and just take smooth lines through curves and he took some radical mid-turn adjustments a couple times, causing me to have to take similar maneuvers. It's allowed, I guess, but if the bugger is ever guttered and dying to get my wheel, I ain't moving over. What goes 'round...