Here’s the status report after two nights of racing in Zurich. Actually, I’ll take it from the top leaving Nice last Thursday. At first the trip got off to a rocky start at the bus station when a pigeon lurking in the ceiling catacombs shat on my head. It was a pretty perfect shot and I can only imagine the high-fives he would receive later. But actually it turned out that it was lucky shit because we got business class upgrades, our bikes flew free, we gorged ourselves on grapefruit juice and chocolate croissants in the business class lounge before the flight, and we got two first-row aisle seats.
The first night we stayed with one of my dad’s childhood friend who moved to Zurich after the 1956 Hungarian revolution. It took a bit of trial and error on the S-bahn to make our way there, but it was really nice staying with them, hearing their stories, being treated to meals, etc. The next day was our first night of racing, and things were a little rough around the edges for us. Dan came down really hard for our first exchange and almost took out the whole field, I rode down on the apron to avoid him then he went underneath an exchange. Nice. Then a few laps later after throwing Dan in I was riding relief in the pole lane and was just about to look over my shoulder to move up track when two guys started yelling “Whoa! Whoa!” then simultaneously plowed into me from behind. I’m not really sure what happened but my guess is they were trailed off the back of the group, weren’t watching, started their exchange, then one guy went under and the other went over. They both hit me though and we all went down. I wasn’t hurt much but both my wheels took quite a hit and my frame was dented, but everything held up surprisingly well. And really that’s fine, the other guy’s SRM was swinging from his bike like a metronome and he hobbled off the track to the medical tent so he was much worse for wear.
I got back in the race and the rest of the night was pretty much just damage control. The racing was super aggressive but not very directed, so guys were just all over the place and there were quite a few more crashes. I think at the end of the night about half the teams had hit the deck at least once. We ended up losing a lap as a result of the crash, then lost another right at the end from a missed exchange and finished low-mid pack.
After our very rough opening night we were both much more focused last night and talked through some of the problems we had previously. I also decided to not take any chances and went ahead with the full-body shave just in case that’s what was holding me back. Again there were a ton of crashes including the leaders of the race going down and one of them ending up in surgery that night to fix a torn groin muscle. We learned at breakfast this morning that he’s now back home in Belgium, so that’s another team out. Towards the end of the race we attacked a few times to try to take back a lap and got about half a lap up one point before coming back right on the sprint lap. The Czech team made a nice move and took a solo lap to move into the lead, but then their first exchange back in the field they took themselves out and almost lost it at the end. They are still in the lead but one guy has been walking around with his arm in a sling since then so that can’t be good for the exchanges.
Tonight we’re both pretty excited to go for it, we’re feeling better every day and don’t have a GC spot to defend so the plan for now is to go for an early lap and try to win the stage. Since this race is scored like a normal 6-day rather than an omnium, we’re in no way a threat to the overall and there are no points on the line until the last 40 laps, so it would in theory be silly to chase us. And there’s been so much mayhem the last few days that hopefully people will be content to just let us roll.
OH, another pleasant surprise is my Danish friend from last year in Copenhagen is back. Keven called him “the white one” because he’s albino, Dan and I call him “the friendly ghost,” but somehow in a year he has neither let the grudge go nor come up with anything new to say so whenever we’re in front him he just starts barking “fucking Americans, get out of here!” He said the exact same thing last year and even socked Keven in the hip during one of our exchanges, which was his breaking point and once Keven started fighting back the dispute ended. Last year it was unpleasant but this year it’s just funny, especially because we simply smile and greet him and he won’t so much as make eye contact.
And so continues the high-school drama of the UIV Cup. Maybe in the next post I’ll talk about the subtle hierarchies and social jostling in the post-race cafeteria.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Small victories
It’s been a while without any postings so I’ll just cut to the meat and talk about the good stuff. I’ve been thinking of the “small victories” concept for a while since there haven’t been any moments of epiphany but in hindsight I’ve been making lots of small strides towards getting settled here.
Victory number one was figuring out social outlets in town. Nice is a bit of an odd place in that it there doesn’t seem to be much unifying culture. The longer I’m here the more it seems like just a big bunch of people who all decided to live in the same place because it’s pretty. But for the most part people mind their own business, don’t make eye contact, and aren’t too receptive to impromptu conversation—at least that which would lead to future conversations. BUT, a few weeks ago I found a weekly language exchange that has about 10-20 people from all over the world. For the first part we speak French, then the second half is whatever other language you want. It’s simultaneously a great way to learn French and meet some people who are more friendly and outgoing than the average Nicois. Between that exchange and some other creative means I’ve been able to find fun and interesting people to hang out with and help keep me from going hermit.
Along those lines, victory number two is my progress in French. Though I’m still quite a ways away from where I’d like to be, I’m at least to the point now that I can communicate only in French when in public, understand people on the phone, write emails, and in general get my point across (even if a little game of charades becomes necessary). One problem I find is that around the time I start to become comfortable with a language I try to make a transition from thinking in English and translating to a more natural method of simply thinking in the language and expecting the words to be there. I think that’s the steepest part of the learning curve, and when I’m trying to break through that crux my command of the language starts to decline. So right now I’m either really on-form and can speak somewhat naturally, or I get stumped and can barely get a word out. Most of it comes down to how tired and focused I am… but it’s a necessary stage and hopefully won’t last too much longer.
Christmas Eve was perhaps another small victory. Just about since I’ve arrived I’ve been looking around for people to spend Christmas Eve with since Thanksgiving was a solo venture. The problem is that most people either have family here or they return home to their families, and those without either option (such as myself) for some reason tend to keep their mouths shut. So come Christmas Eve I had invitations to Christmas Day and New Years celebrations, but nothing for Christmas Eve, which is typically the more significant occasion for my family.
And so came a scheme. Walking and riding around the city one thing that kept jumping out is how visible homelessness is here. In Seattle there is a significantly larger homeless community than Nice, but the homeless here seem to make no attempt to conceal themselves and indeed there are few options in that regard because the city is so densely populated and every bit of public space is frequented by the general public. There also seem to be very little in the way of shelters, soup kitchens, street newspapers, etc to help take the edge off. And so it struck me that it’s not at all difficult to find some other people in the city family-less on Christmas Eve, I was just searching too hard and not really looking.
So instead of buying gifts here and sending them home to family and friends, I decided to take that money and go buy a bunch of food at the store, make little individually wrapped Christmas dinners, then walk around town and have a bunch of little Christmas dinners with the people I’d find. The concept in my head is sort of like purchasing carbon credits to offset your emissions… so for all of you who didn’t receive something in the mail from me, this was “your gift” instead of some silly souvenir from the Riviera.
That was the idea anyway. I managed to recruit a buddy to come along, so around 8pm when all the crowds cleared out and the streets were deserted, Danish and I started our urban trek with backpacks full of food we’d just prepared. It turned out to be a lot harder than we expected. Our primary obstacle was language—not French, but rather that we didn’t find a single homeless person from western Europe. The first guy we came across was our “easiest.” His name was Jozef, who came here from Prague just a few weeks earlier with his black lab puppy Franz. He spoke only Czech, but it was so easy to communicate with body language and gestures.
Our next few attempts didn’t go too well. One guy had a dog who was just lying there when we walked up, and had ignored all the other people who’d walked by and ignored him, but when we gave some attention he started running around barking and jumping happily and wanting to play. That was fine with us, but it made a big scene and people on the street started yelling at us and the owner was all but passed out anyway, so we just had to keep walking. Most others we saw were either asleep or too inebriated to be receptive.
From then on we became a little more “selective” and had to pass some folks by. From the outset we decided to go for quality over quantity, so rather than simply walking around handing out PBJs we wanted to make some really nice meals and go sit down with people and have an actual familial exchange—which, more than the mechanical distribution of gifts, seems the real point of Christmas. But that wasn’t seeming very feasible.
Our final stop is how the evening will be remembered, I’m sure. We were walking along the Promenade des Anglais, the main drag along the sea with all the ritzy casinos and hotels, and found a group of five guys sitting in a circle talking boisterously. We walked up and asked if we could join them and they happily welcomed us, pulling up bags and boxes for us to sit on. They were all from former Soviet states—Belarus, Lithuania, Kyrgyzstan, etc, and spoke a mix of French, Russian, and Spanish (one guy coming most recently from Barcelona). We ended up staying for about half an hour, trying to understand their stories and give some of our own. They offered us lots of food and drinks, though interestingly didn’t touch anything we’d given them (in front of us anyway). After a while things got too intense for us because they kept getting more and more hyper, hugging us and getting up and running around, bringing back extra boxes for us to sit on, event a giant oriental rug. We were really tired at that point and kept trying to leave, but whenever we’d make those motions Alexi, the most communicative and welcoming would get really despondent and upset that we were leaving already and kept asking us why we were leaving, where we were going, and so forth.
Ultimately we just had to shake their hands, wish them well and walk away, which was a really discordant end to the evening that left both of us not too warm and fuzzy and somewhat questioning of our “tactics.” When we went into the evening we didn’t know at all what to expect, but figured we’d just put ourselves out there and give it a go. We now have a list of criteria should we try again. I think everyone was appreciative but in the end I think Danish and I were probably more affected than they were. Which is pretty much exactly what I didn’t want to happen—a kind of unbalanced, voyeuristic exchange—but perhaps it was naïve to expect otherwise.
There are of course many other stories both from Christmas Eve and the last few weeks, but I’ll leave it at that for now. Some other not insignificant side notes: I both got into law school and got a scholarship, I’m thinking of applying for a really great job through the French embassy where you teach English 12hrs a week and get paid about $1200/month, and I leave for Zurich on Thursday for a RACE. Yeah, it’s been a while, huh? I’ll be hitting the intensity hard the next few days and trying to get back in the zone since this might be the last race of the season. Speaking of which, it’s been a long one… my first race this year was January 2nd, my last will be December 30th, and in the middle have been about 115 days of racing. Dang. Hopefully I can wrap up the season with another win?
Victory number one was figuring out social outlets in town. Nice is a bit of an odd place in that it there doesn’t seem to be much unifying culture. The longer I’m here the more it seems like just a big bunch of people who all decided to live in the same place because it’s pretty. But for the most part people mind their own business, don’t make eye contact, and aren’t too receptive to impromptu conversation—at least that which would lead to future conversations. BUT, a few weeks ago I found a weekly language exchange that has about 10-20 people from all over the world. For the first part we speak French, then the second half is whatever other language you want. It’s simultaneously a great way to learn French and meet some people who are more friendly and outgoing than the average Nicois. Between that exchange and some other creative means I’ve been able to find fun and interesting people to hang out with and help keep me from going hermit.
Along those lines, victory number two is my progress in French. Though I’m still quite a ways away from where I’d like to be, I’m at least to the point now that I can communicate only in French when in public, understand people on the phone, write emails, and in general get my point across (even if a little game of charades becomes necessary). One problem I find is that around the time I start to become comfortable with a language I try to make a transition from thinking in English and translating to a more natural method of simply thinking in the language and expecting the words to be there. I think that’s the steepest part of the learning curve, and when I’m trying to break through that crux my command of the language starts to decline. So right now I’m either really on-form and can speak somewhat naturally, or I get stumped and can barely get a word out. Most of it comes down to how tired and focused I am… but it’s a necessary stage and hopefully won’t last too much longer.
Christmas Eve was perhaps another small victory. Just about since I’ve arrived I’ve been looking around for people to spend Christmas Eve with since Thanksgiving was a solo venture. The problem is that most people either have family here or they return home to their families, and those without either option (such as myself) for some reason tend to keep their mouths shut. So come Christmas Eve I had invitations to Christmas Day and New Years celebrations, but nothing for Christmas Eve, which is typically the more significant occasion for my family.
And so came a scheme. Walking and riding around the city one thing that kept jumping out is how visible homelessness is here. In Seattle there is a significantly larger homeless community than Nice, but the homeless here seem to make no attempt to conceal themselves and indeed there are few options in that regard because the city is so densely populated and every bit of public space is frequented by the general public. There also seem to be very little in the way of shelters, soup kitchens, street newspapers, etc to help take the edge off. And so it struck me that it’s not at all difficult to find some other people in the city family-less on Christmas Eve, I was just searching too hard and not really looking.
So instead of buying gifts here and sending them home to family and friends, I decided to take that money and go buy a bunch of food at the store, make little individually wrapped Christmas dinners, then walk around town and have a bunch of little Christmas dinners with the people I’d find. The concept in my head is sort of like purchasing carbon credits to offset your emissions… so for all of you who didn’t receive something in the mail from me, this was “your gift” instead of some silly souvenir from the Riviera.
That was the idea anyway. I managed to recruit a buddy to come along, so around 8pm when all the crowds cleared out and the streets were deserted, Danish and I started our urban trek with backpacks full of food we’d just prepared. It turned out to be a lot harder than we expected. Our primary obstacle was language—not French, but rather that we didn’t find a single homeless person from western Europe. The first guy we came across was our “easiest.” His name was Jozef, who came here from Prague just a few weeks earlier with his black lab puppy Franz. He spoke only Czech, but it was so easy to communicate with body language and gestures.
Our next few attempts didn’t go too well. One guy had a dog who was just lying there when we walked up, and had ignored all the other people who’d walked by and ignored him, but when we gave some attention he started running around barking and jumping happily and wanting to play. That was fine with us, but it made a big scene and people on the street started yelling at us and the owner was all but passed out anyway, so we just had to keep walking. Most others we saw were either asleep or too inebriated to be receptive.
From then on we became a little more “selective” and had to pass some folks by. From the outset we decided to go for quality over quantity, so rather than simply walking around handing out PBJs we wanted to make some really nice meals and go sit down with people and have an actual familial exchange—which, more than the mechanical distribution of gifts, seems the real point of Christmas. But that wasn’t seeming very feasible.
Our final stop is how the evening will be remembered, I’m sure. We were walking along the Promenade des Anglais, the main drag along the sea with all the ritzy casinos and hotels, and found a group of five guys sitting in a circle talking boisterously. We walked up and asked if we could join them and they happily welcomed us, pulling up bags and boxes for us to sit on. They were all from former Soviet states—Belarus, Lithuania, Kyrgyzstan, etc, and spoke a mix of French, Russian, and Spanish (one guy coming most recently from Barcelona). We ended up staying for about half an hour, trying to understand their stories and give some of our own. They offered us lots of food and drinks, though interestingly didn’t touch anything we’d given them (in front of us anyway). After a while things got too intense for us because they kept getting more and more hyper, hugging us and getting up and running around, bringing back extra boxes for us to sit on, event a giant oriental rug. We were really tired at that point and kept trying to leave, but whenever we’d make those motions Alexi, the most communicative and welcoming would get really despondent and upset that we were leaving already and kept asking us why we were leaving, where we were going, and so forth.
Ultimately we just had to shake their hands, wish them well and walk away, which was a really discordant end to the evening that left both of us not too warm and fuzzy and somewhat questioning of our “tactics.” When we went into the evening we didn’t know at all what to expect, but figured we’d just put ourselves out there and give it a go. We now have a list of criteria should we try again. I think everyone was appreciative but in the end I think Danish and I were probably more affected than they were. Which is pretty much exactly what I didn’t want to happen—a kind of unbalanced, voyeuristic exchange—but perhaps it was naïve to expect otherwise.
There are of course many other stories both from Christmas Eve and the last few weeks, but I’ll leave it at that for now. Some other not insignificant side notes: I both got into law school and got a scholarship, I’m thinking of applying for a really great job through the French embassy where you teach English 12hrs a week and get paid about $1200/month, and I leave for Zurich on Thursday for a RACE. Yeah, it’s been a while, huh? I’ll be hitting the intensity hard the next few days and trying to get back in the zone since this might be the last race of the season. Speaking of which, it’s been a long one… my first race this year was January 2nd, my last will be December 30th, and in the middle have been about 115 days of racing. Dang. Hopefully I can wrap up the season with another win?
Monday, December 10, 2007
Problem: solved
Water has been a problem on my rides. I currently have plotted out all the public fountains (aka. drinking fountains) within a three hour ride of Nice, and with just one bottle stuffed into my back pocket I generally have to stop at all [three] of them whenever I go by. The bigger problem is that when descending my bottle bounces around in my jersey like a little kid whose pony escaped the riding circle and is at full gallop through the hay field.
Well necessity is the mother of invention, and so I introduce to you my newly fashioned Water Retention System. Alone, the components look like a cheap plastic bottle cage, a wine cork, and a handful of zip ties. But like any great team the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and these parts work together with such harmony that it was difficult to ride today for wanting to look down to admire the poetry taking place on my down tube. It’s like a symphony, or a marriage even… neither of which I have been part of, but if they work as well as my Water Retention System, they aren’t as tough as everyone thinks.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
BAM!
If there were a sound effect for my ride today that would be it. I think I also might have heard my knees make that noise at least once… I finally figured out why everyone says the riding along the coast isn’t very good. It’s actually not a reflection of those roads, but of how incredible the riding is in the mountains to the north. I think today might be deserve the title of the nicest ride I’ve ever been on.
I was shooting for a solid 5 hours with tempo climbing, and made a nice playlist for the ride of some old school favorites like Grandmaster Flash, Biggie, and Talib Kweli. It was about 5hrs straight of music and the idea was I couldn’t go home until it was over. It takes about 15min to get out of town going north, but when you’re out you’re definitely OUT. The climbing begins a few km’s after that, and lasts 25km to the Col de Levens, which is only about 600m (1970ft) high but of course you’re coming from about as sea level as it gets. That was a nice climb, very steady highway grade in the sun. After that is a long twisty descent for about 15km, which was GNARLY and super cold. All the north-facing hills were a solid 10 degrees colder than their south-facing colleagues. There was also a big temperature inversion, so the valleys had ice on the sides of the roads (which are salted) and my hands and feet went totally numb, but on all the Cols I was nice and toasty.
The descent takes you all the way down to about 200m (650ft) at the north-most point of the ride, just shy of a town called Roqubilliere. At that point you turn onto a one-lane road and begin the hardest part of the ride, the climb to the Col de Turini. It’s a switchbacking ascent of 17km, and the summit is 1767m (5800ft). That comes out to just over a 9% average grade for those who slept through math class. The first half I was happy to be getting warm again, the second half I was perhaps less happy about the whole thing but occupied by the incredible road. The road skirts a deep canyon, and at times the road is just etched into the side of a rock face and as you ride you can look over the edge to the floor a few thousand feet below.
That climb seemed to take forever, and I saw maybe three cars the whole time since there’s not much going on up there. The descent to town starts almost immediately, and was even better than the last. From Turini it’s about 50km back home, and except for a brief climb over the Col de Nice about halfway, it’s downhill the whole way. The first 20km or so are all one-lane, super-twisty with switchbacks and cliffs and such. I really wanted a road bike at that point to rail it, but it’s probably for the best I didn’t have one because I probably would have ridden off a cliff going to fast and giggling.
In all, a track bike is far from ideal for jaunts through the Pyrenees, but today I think I really nailed the fixie descending technique. It’s a lot better with switchbacks because you only get up to about 35mph on the straights no matter what bike you have. With just a front brake, the key is to let it rip on the straight-aways and spin your legs out (in the gear I’m riding that’s about 180rpm), then jam HARD on the brake before the hairpins but modulate it so that you’re doing a rolling stopie and the rear wheel lifts just a bit so you can skip into the turn, and right before the apex let the rear float around to the outside to reduce the radius. Then voila, let off the brakes, drop the rear wheel back down, pedal through the turn, let yourself just roll back up to speed, and repeat about 500m later at the next turn. I should say though, there’s no pain quite like 180rpm after a few hours of climbing a 50rpm.
My playlist was just shy of ending, but when I got back to Nice I’d ridden 4:45 and it was 19C (66F) in the shade so after lunch I went to the beach for a nap then read until the sun set. Tomorrow it’s Saint Tropez or bust… I mean, the mountains are great, but a guy’s gotta get a tan.
I was shooting for a solid 5 hours with tempo climbing, and made a nice playlist for the ride of some old school favorites like Grandmaster Flash, Biggie, and Talib Kweli. It was about 5hrs straight of music and the idea was I couldn’t go home until it was over. It takes about 15min to get out of town going north, but when you’re out you’re definitely OUT. The climbing begins a few km’s after that, and lasts 25km to the Col de Levens, which is only about 600m (1970ft) high but of course you’re coming from about as sea level as it gets. That was a nice climb, very steady highway grade in the sun. After that is a long twisty descent for about 15km, which was GNARLY and super cold. All the north-facing hills were a solid 10 degrees colder than their south-facing colleagues. There was also a big temperature inversion, so the valleys had ice on the sides of the roads (which are salted) and my hands and feet went totally numb, but on all the Cols I was nice and toasty.
The descent takes you all the way down to about 200m (650ft) at the north-most point of the ride, just shy of a town called Roqubilliere. At that point you turn onto a one-lane road and begin the hardest part of the ride, the climb to the Col de Turini. It’s a switchbacking ascent of 17km, and the summit is 1767m (5800ft). That comes out to just over a 9% average grade for those who slept through math class. The first half I was happy to be getting warm again, the second half I was perhaps less happy about the whole thing but occupied by the incredible road. The road skirts a deep canyon, and at times the road is just etched into the side of a rock face and as you ride you can look over the edge to the floor a few thousand feet below.
That climb seemed to take forever, and I saw maybe three cars the whole time since there’s not much going on up there. The descent to town starts almost immediately, and was even better than the last. From Turini it’s about 50km back home, and except for a brief climb over the Col de Nice about halfway, it’s downhill the whole way. The first 20km or so are all one-lane, super-twisty with switchbacks and cliffs and such. I really wanted a road bike at that point to rail it, but it’s probably for the best I didn’t have one because I probably would have ridden off a cliff going to fast and giggling.
In all, a track bike is far from ideal for jaunts through the Pyrenees, but today I think I really nailed the fixie descending technique. It’s a lot better with switchbacks because you only get up to about 35mph on the straights no matter what bike you have. With just a front brake, the key is to let it rip on the straight-aways and spin your legs out (in the gear I’m riding that’s about 180rpm), then jam HARD on the brake before the hairpins but modulate it so that you’re doing a rolling stopie and the rear wheel lifts just a bit so you can skip into the turn, and right before the apex let the rear float around to the outside to reduce the radius. Then voila, let off the brakes, drop the rear wheel back down, pedal through the turn, let yourself just roll back up to speed, and repeat about 500m later at the next turn. I should say though, there’s no pain quite like 180rpm after a few hours of climbing a 50rpm.
My playlist was just shy of ending, but when I got back to Nice I’d ridden 4:45 and it was 19C (66F) in the shade so after lunch I went to the beach for a nap then read until the sun set. Tomorrow it’s Saint Tropez or bust… I mean, the mountains are great, but a guy’s gotta get a tan.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Updates!
Got some new pics in from Munich, as well some photos of Nice and the debut of video number 3 below.
Second video... at long last
It's been a while since I've updated anything, but I can assure you it's for reasons other than laziness or lack of want. I finished this video a few weeks ago but haven't been able to upload it, but here it is now for your viewing pleasure. All the pictures are new, the red jerseys are from Munich and the green are new pics from Dortmund. I just today found a few new photos from Geneva, so I'll put those up in the coming days.
Riding has been really good, I've found some great rides including to San Remo (like Milan-San Remo), Saint Tropez (clandestine wedding site of Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson, among others), and the Col d' Eze, a 20km climb just outside of town with views of the ocean and mountains the whole way. The rest of my time has been occupied with learning French and running about with buddies here. I also finished my first book in French, Le Vieil Homme et le Mer, and started on a collection of short stories by Stephen King in French. BUT, somehow I didn't know that he writes scary stories and the one I'm reading now is about one of those mechanical monkeys that plays the cymbals and goes crazy kind of like Chucky. So I think I'm going to put that on hold and work on a Jack Kerouac book called Satori in Paris.
I'm already starting to get a bick sick of the fixie, but have some tricks to make it better. Mostly it's descending that gets old, because along with the 20km climb is an amazing, twisty 20km descent that I would love to drill a bit. But it's tough to take corners at 150rpm. There are lots of pro tour riders I've seen in this area, so far from Astana, FDJ, Saunier-Duval, and Cofidis, and quite a few other guys on smaller teams. I still haven't hooked up with any local cyclists to ride with, but I'm really enjoying exploring at my own pace so it's not a problem. Perhaps after seeing the same people a few times we'll start riding together though...
Not much to report on the racing front, I'm just getting ready for Zurich and trying to get invites to other events but without a partner I'm starting to think more about the road season. I actually just had a sudden burst of motivation and am look forward to training this winter... especially since I'll be in shorts most of the time... suckers!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Things I like
Okay, I’ve been thinking about these for a while, so I think I’ll just get it all out at once in a nice, clean format. I think it’s pretty much self-explanatory.
Three things I like:
The sun: remember? The great giver of light and warmth, and taker-away of wetness and paleness? The one that’s around from July to September? Well, I figured out where it goes the rest of the year.
People: not just people in general, though I’m okay with them too, but people *not* in cars, buildings, at work, etc. People just out milling around for the sake of it. I guess I can see now why train workers don’t want to work past 50… people actually do stuff here.
Hydrogenated oil and corn syrup: or rather the lack thereof. For some reason many foods sold in the US with these ingredients (Nutella and ketchup, for instance), don’t have them when “produced” in Europe. I can’t quite figure out why this is the case since on the whole I think people in the US are more “health conscious” than most Euros. Maybe it’s just the coasts though… I always forget about the red states.
Three things I don’t like:
Paying for stuff: especially the “pay to get in, pay to get out” kind. The quintessential example? Water. It’s impossible to find either a drinking fountain or a public restroom on a ride. The result? Fill up bottles in a fountain in Monaco, where the gold-plated pipes ensure its sterility, and pee in the bushes (but not in Monaco, the whole principality (could you find a more snooty word?) is under video surveillance). Hmm, maybe I should change the title of the blog to “interesting places I’ve peed, funny places from which I’ve peed, and different things I’ve peed into.”
Coffee: and I don’t mean coffee in general, just coffee here. Mostly it’s because so many euros have proudly told me about how great coffee is here compared to the US based on their experience with the coffee they drank at a Motel 6 just outside Tulsa. But on the whole the coffee I’ve had is quite stale, acidic, not very strong, and overpriced. I mean, four bucks for a cup of coffee at home is about three bucks more than I’d like to pay, but at least you get a liter of it and it’s free trade organic in a recycled cup and served by an unemployed PhD. And there’s free wifi.
Scooters: I was on the fence about this one because of the “at least they aren’t cars” argument, but I finally oscillated back the other way because “they could be bikes.” But apparently scooters are actually cool here, or at least their owners believe them to be. The fashion seems to be creating café racers by installing oversized scooter-racing tires (?), anodized motocross bars (yes, anodizing is also still cool), and stripping much of the “body work.” Not quite the same as Steve McQueen on a Norton. But hey, tell that to the kid wearing gold Pumas, jeans with a dozen zippers on each leg, a pink sweater with a popped-collar, and about 6” too much mullet coming out the back of his motocross helmet. I guess it’s the Euro answer to fixies… unmuffled two stroke engines vs. hipsters practicing skid-stops on capital hill? Toss up.
Three things I’m ambivalent about (aka, an insult sandwich):
Nutella: it’s so tasty, turns anything it touches into a delightful snack, and you don’t even have to refrigerate it. But it’s basically just margarine with hot chocolate mix stirred in. And come on, hazelnut spread? It’s the sixth ingredient and by your own admission makes up just 2% of the deliciousness.
Garbage: everywhere I’ve been there are dozens of little golf cart sized street sweepers rallying about cleaning, and the result is a nicely primped look to all public spaces. But now that I’ve started to look around I realized that in general people are much more careless here with littering. I mean, US cities on the whole have more visible trash, but that’s because there’s not really a system to pick stuff up, it’s just self-policing for the most part. For instance, there’s not even a communal “trash day” in the apartment, people just take out bags when they’re full, leave them on the sidewalk, and within 12hrs the trash fairy took them away. I guess it creates jobs, but it also creates sloppiness.
Rallying: street sweepers aren’t the only ones, pretty much everyone here rallies about. Sometimes it’s nice because you don’t have to stop for red lights or the stogy little red man staring deep into your soul and forbidding you to cross the empty street, but other times it’s not so nice because you almost got run over by some 14 year old punk on a scooter. Germany and Nice seem to be on two opposite ends of the spectrum, but both are better than Seattle where you can’t get away with anything on a bike but still almost get run over by some vitamin-D deficient a-hole driver in an Escalade juggling a 24oz. Americano and an iPhone.
Three things I like:
The sun: remember? The great giver of light and warmth, and taker-away of wetness and paleness? The one that’s around from July to September? Well, I figured out where it goes the rest of the year.
People: not just people in general, though I’m okay with them too, but people *not* in cars, buildings, at work, etc. People just out milling around for the sake of it. I guess I can see now why train workers don’t want to work past 50… people actually do stuff here.
Hydrogenated oil and corn syrup: or rather the lack thereof. For some reason many foods sold in the US with these ingredients (Nutella and ketchup, for instance), don’t have them when “produced” in Europe. I can’t quite figure out why this is the case since on the whole I think people in the US are more “health conscious” than most Euros. Maybe it’s just the coasts though… I always forget about the red states.
Three things I don’t like:
Paying for stuff: especially the “pay to get in, pay to get out” kind. The quintessential example? Water. It’s impossible to find either a drinking fountain or a public restroom on a ride. The result? Fill up bottles in a fountain in Monaco, where the gold-plated pipes ensure its sterility, and pee in the bushes (but not in Monaco, the whole principality (could you find a more snooty word?) is under video surveillance). Hmm, maybe I should change the title of the blog to “interesting places I’ve peed, funny places from which I’ve peed, and different things I’ve peed into.”
Coffee: and I don’t mean coffee in general, just coffee here. Mostly it’s because so many euros have proudly told me about how great coffee is here compared to the US based on their experience with the coffee they drank at a Motel 6 just outside Tulsa. But on the whole the coffee I’ve had is quite stale, acidic, not very strong, and overpriced. I mean, four bucks for a cup of coffee at home is about three bucks more than I’d like to pay, but at least you get a liter of it and it’s free trade organic in a recycled cup and served by an unemployed PhD. And there’s free wifi.
Scooters: I was on the fence about this one because of the “at least they aren’t cars” argument, but I finally oscillated back the other way because “they could be bikes.” But apparently scooters are actually cool here, or at least their owners believe them to be. The fashion seems to be creating café racers by installing oversized scooter-racing tires (?), anodized motocross bars (yes, anodizing is also still cool), and stripping much of the “body work.” Not quite the same as Steve McQueen on a Norton. But hey, tell that to the kid wearing gold Pumas, jeans with a dozen zippers on each leg, a pink sweater with a popped-collar, and about 6” too much mullet coming out the back of his motocross helmet. I guess it’s the Euro answer to fixies… unmuffled two stroke engines vs. hipsters practicing skid-stops on capital hill? Toss up.
Three things I’m ambivalent about (aka, an insult sandwich):
Nutella: it’s so tasty, turns anything it touches into a delightful snack, and you don’t even have to refrigerate it. But it’s basically just margarine with hot chocolate mix stirred in. And come on, hazelnut spread? It’s the sixth ingredient and by your own admission makes up just 2% of the deliciousness.
Garbage: everywhere I’ve been there are dozens of little golf cart sized street sweepers rallying about cleaning, and the result is a nicely primped look to all public spaces. But now that I’ve started to look around I realized that in general people are much more careless here with littering. I mean, US cities on the whole have more visible trash, but that’s because there’s not really a system to pick stuff up, it’s just self-policing for the most part. For instance, there’s not even a communal “trash day” in the apartment, people just take out bags when they’re full, leave them on the sidewalk, and within 12hrs the trash fairy took them away. I guess it creates jobs, but it also creates sloppiness.
Rallying: street sweepers aren’t the only ones, pretty much everyone here rallies about. Sometimes it’s nice because you don’t have to stop for red lights or the stogy little red man staring deep into your soul and forbidding you to cross the empty street, but other times it’s not so nice because you almost got run over by some 14 year old punk on a scooter. Germany and Nice seem to be on two opposite ends of the spectrum, but both are better than Seattle where you can’t get away with anything on a bike but still almost get run over by some vitamin-D deficient a-hole driver in an Escalade juggling a 24oz. Americano and an iPhone.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Au revoir, seasonal affective disorder
Riding today was pretty awesome. I put in a solid few hours in the velo going east along the coast, first to Monaco then into Italy and around a bit there. The real story was the weather though… perfectly sunny and in the mid to upper 60s. One sign I passed said 24c, but I think it was in the sun. Regardless, I rode sans legwarmers and with just a long sleeve jersey on top, and when I got home I was still covered in salt from sweating. And it’s the end of November! For everyone in warmer parts of the world this might not be so significant, but for those of us in the PNW slugging out 5hr rides in horizontal rain, this is not a trifle matter. I think I’ve also found the cure for vitamin D deficiency and SAD… get the hell out of Seattle. I mean, seriously. No wonder our state is the capital of coffee, grunge, intellectual hip hop, and meth. Is there anything worse than about 3 months of straight rain? Other than being out riding your bike in it every day?
The best part is that the sun is still intense enough to be warm and to give a tan. From just my ride today I already came back a shade darker. Watch out Mason lake, I’m going to be that guy riding in shorts when it’s 33 and snowing just to show off my winter bronze. The south-facing shore and low sun angle also means that you’re riding in the sun constantly. Oh, incidentally, for the cycling fans who watched this year’s Paris-Nice, my ride today was the last part of the final stage when Contador soloed in. And speaking of cycling fans, there were huge packs of cyclists out riding. Except instead of Discovery and US Postal kits and Treks, everyone was wearing Credit Agricole kits and riding Looks. I think next weekend I might try to hook up with some cagey old locals to figure out where to ride.
Other things happening… the weekend is huge here, which shouldn’t be much of a surprise but at home it seems like things are really quiet in general on the weekends and people crawl into their cocoons. Again, perhaps a function of the weather. But here everything is hopping… traffic is way worse than even mid-week rush hour, the streets are totally packed, etc. Yesterday they inaugurated the new tram which from what I can tell runs only about 3km and is sort of pointless, but it was open to ride for free so the were HOARDES of people jamming themselves into the little cars and mayhem in general. People were literally putting their kids on the tracks in front of the oncoming tram to take pictures. I don’t know about these Euros sometimes…
I’ve also spent a fair amount of time getting acquainted with different parts of the city, figuring out some recipes from the new food selection, and working on my French. Nice isn’t a super expensive city but some things are ridiculous. Beef, for instance, starts at about 20 euros/kilo from what I’ve found. And the cheapest pre-paid cell card is 55 cents/minute within France and you have to pay 30 euros just to get it. For comparison, in Germany it was 5 euros for the card and 14 cents/minute.
My current techniques for learning French are perhaps unorthodox, but so far they’ve been working pretty well. My first day here I bought a dictionary, two bike magazines, and a parallel translation of the Old Man and the Sea. The bike magazines are easy to read because I can look at the picture and figure out what the article is about, then learn words because I pretty much know what they’re saying. The Old Man and the Sea is great because I can read one page in English, the look over and read the same thing in French and if I get stumped just go back and forth. Hemmingway also writes in a style quite helpful for the marginally-literate reader such as myself. I’ve also been watching the French show called “Are You Smarter than a 10 Year-old,” which is great because all questions are pretty basic and half the time they quiz people about English.
That’s what I’ve got for now. I’m hard at work on another movie that is going to blow some minds. I found a bunch more editing “things” and have a fresh new soundtrack… Dan and I are also confirmed for Zurich now, and I posted the start list above if you didn’t already see it. Also, God willing I hereby vow to avoid all Nice/nice puns for the duration of my stay and encourage all of you to do so as well. To ease the transition I will give everyone one free pass then after that I’m cutting you off. Remember, with great power comes great responsibility.
The best part is that the sun is still intense enough to be warm and to give a tan. From just my ride today I already came back a shade darker. Watch out Mason lake, I’m going to be that guy riding in shorts when it’s 33 and snowing just to show off my winter bronze. The south-facing shore and low sun angle also means that you’re riding in the sun constantly. Oh, incidentally, for the cycling fans who watched this year’s Paris-Nice, my ride today was the last part of the final stage when Contador soloed in. And speaking of cycling fans, there were huge packs of cyclists out riding. Except instead of Discovery and US Postal kits and Treks, everyone was wearing Credit Agricole kits and riding Looks. I think next weekend I might try to hook up with some cagey old locals to figure out where to ride.
Other things happening… the weekend is huge here, which shouldn’t be much of a surprise but at home it seems like things are really quiet in general on the weekends and people crawl into their cocoons. Again, perhaps a function of the weather. But here everything is hopping… traffic is way worse than even mid-week rush hour, the streets are totally packed, etc. Yesterday they inaugurated the new tram which from what I can tell runs only about 3km and is sort of pointless, but it was open to ride for free so the were HOARDES of people jamming themselves into the little cars and mayhem in general. People were literally putting their kids on the tracks in front of the oncoming tram to take pictures. I don’t know about these Euros sometimes…
I’ve also spent a fair amount of time getting acquainted with different parts of the city, figuring out some recipes from the new food selection, and working on my French. Nice isn’t a super expensive city but some things are ridiculous. Beef, for instance, starts at about 20 euros/kilo from what I’ve found. And the cheapest pre-paid cell card is 55 cents/minute within France and you have to pay 30 euros just to get it. For comparison, in Germany it was 5 euros for the card and 14 cents/minute.
My current techniques for learning French are perhaps unorthodox, but so far they’ve been working pretty well. My first day here I bought a dictionary, two bike magazines, and a parallel translation of the Old Man and the Sea. The bike magazines are easy to read because I can look at the picture and figure out what the article is about, then learn words because I pretty much know what they’re saying. The Old Man and the Sea is great because I can read one page in English, the look over and read the same thing in French and if I get stumped just go back and forth. Hemmingway also writes in a style quite helpful for the marginally-literate reader such as myself. I’ve also been watching the French show called “Are You Smarter than a 10 Year-old,” which is great because all questions are pretty basic and half the time they quiz people about English.
That’s what I’ve got for now. I’m hard at work on another movie that is going to blow some minds. I found a bunch more editing “things” and have a fresh new soundtrack… Dan and I are also confirmed for Zurich now, and I posted the start list above if you didn’t already see it. Also, God willing I hereby vow to avoid all Nice/nice puns for the duration of my stay and encourage all of you to do so as well. To ease the transition I will give everyone one free pass then after that I’m cutting you off. Remember, with great power comes great responsibility.
Friday, November 23, 2007
A ride through Nice...
Here are some video clips from my ride today. Biking through Nice proper is sort of like playing a video game because so much is happening at once. Unlike Germany, it's definitely okay to jay walk and run red lights here... and people do so with great passion. I look forward to exploring more, and as much fun as it is, getting out of the city more as well.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Nice: a long shot, or just a long trip?
It was a long way to Nice, and not just in kilometers. I woke up at 5:15 to make an early morning train that would get me to Nice with just one transfer and all high-speed trains. I got to the train station and was told that because of strikes the only trains running to France go to Paris. Yes there are trains listed as being unaffected by the strike, but she assured me they actually are not running. Hmm, seems like that would be good information to post somewhere?
So I walked a few kms through pre-dawn Geneva in search of the bus station. There’s a bus going to Nice, but it leaves in four hours, I have to change three times, buy a new ticket half-way for some reason (controllage she says?), and I arrive at night. Thankfully I had a pocketful of Francs from the prize money so I could afford to blow a little on a few cappuccinos and chocolate croissants while passing time watching all my stuff and trying to not fall asleep. And to add insult to injury, I heard about five times on the radio that trains to Paris are the only ones running from Switzerland, and today is the first day at that. Another example of the insular existence that is bike racing.
The buses were pretty good and to my pleasant surprise it was extremely easy to carry a bike plus a big suitcase. Short trips within Europe by plane are by far the worst and it’s nearly impossible to avoid oversize fees that exceed the cost of the ticket. Trains have worked well, but you have to move really quickly and usually scout around on the cars for a place to stash your stuff. Except for taking a long time, buses seem to win on overall simplicity and definitely on cost.
There are some downsides however. The biggest one this trip was simply time; the route from Geneva to Nice goes through numerous mountain passes, so the whole trip was on small, twisty roads. Because of that the drivers locked the bathrooms and kept everyone seated the whole time. And because of the strike and the sudden influx of bus traffic, all the buses were late. The net result is that you can’t pee while in transit, nor can you go at the stations because everyone is running around to make their connections. I think it’s fine for your average chronically dehydrated Euro (remember, water costs more here than gas, and even that is pushing $8 /gallon), but it wasn’t working for me. About halfway through my first long bus ride I thought I was going to explode, and finally just pulled my coat over my lap and filled a liter water bottle right then and there. Thankfully during one of my transfers I had the foresight to pour it out, because sure enough I had the same problem (and same solution) on the next bus. I’m pretty sure no one noticed, except at one point I did have to remove my liter of pee from the seat next to me so two lovely French girls could sit down. They gave me and my mysterious bottle of ice tea a funny look and probably against better judgment decided to sit there anyway.
There were quite a few more tribulations along the way, including not having any food and eating little packets of peanut butter I pinched from the hotel breakfast in Alkmaar a few weeks ago. But what it all comes down to is that after 17hrs in transit and about an hour of wandering around Nice in the dark to find this place, I’m here, the apartment is incredible, and there is a boardwalk with palm trees. I’ve also managed to take care of quite a few shop items, including getting a new cell phone chip (my number is below), finding a grocery store, buying a dictionary, signing up for French lessons, finding free internet, and doing a whole bunch of laundry. This was a pretty dry post but once I get settled enough to start running amock things are going to get interesting… and once Dan get’s here in a few weeks things will be completely out of control.
My new address:
Adrian Hegyvary
C/O Csepreghy
11 Rue Alberti
Nice, France
06000
And cell (including country code):
+33 06 42 74 5132
So I walked a few kms through pre-dawn Geneva in search of the bus station. There’s a bus going to Nice, but it leaves in four hours, I have to change three times, buy a new ticket half-way for some reason (controllage she says?), and I arrive at night. Thankfully I had a pocketful of Francs from the prize money so I could afford to blow a little on a few cappuccinos and chocolate croissants while passing time watching all my stuff and trying to not fall asleep. And to add insult to injury, I heard about five times on the radio that trains to Paris are the only ones running from Switzerland, and today is the first day at that. Another example of the insular existence that is bike racing.
The buses were pretty good and to my pleasant surprise it was extremely easy to carry a bike plus a big suitcase. Short trips within Europe by plane are by far the worst and it’s nearly impossible to avoid oversize fees that exceed the cost of the ticket. Trains have worked well, but you have to move really quickly and usually scout around on the cars for a place to stash your stuff. Except for taking a long time, buses seem to win on overall simplicity and definitely on cost.
There are some downsides however. The biggest one this trip was simply time; the route from Geneva to Nice goes through numerous mountain passes, so the whole trip was on small, twisty roads. Because of that the drivers locked the bathrooms and kept everyone seated the whole time. And because of the strike and the sudden influx of bus traffic, all the buses were late. The net result is that you can’t pee while in transit, nor can you go at the stations because everyone is running around to make their connections. I think it’s fine for your average chronically dehydrated Euro (remember, water costs more here than gas, and even that is pushing $8 /gallon), but it wasn’t working for me. About halfway through my first long bus ride I thought I was going to explode, and finally just pulled my coat over my lap and filled a liter water bottle right then and there. Thankfully during one of my transfers I had the foresight to pour it out, because sure enough I had the same problem (and same solution) on the next bus. I’m pretty sure no one noticed, except at one point I did have to remove my liter of pee from the seat next to me so two lovely French girls could sit down. They gave me and my mysterious bottle of ice tea a funny look and probably against better judgment decided to sit there anyway.
There were quite a few more tribulations along the way, including not having any food and eating little packets of peanut butter I pinched from the hotel breakfast in Alkmaar a few weeks ago. But what it all comes down to is that after 17hrs in transit and about an hour of wandering around Nice in the dark to find this place, I’m here, the apartment is incredible, and there is a boardwalk with palm trees. I’ve also managed to take care of quite a few shop items, including getting a new cell phone chip (my number is below), finding a grocery store, buying a dictionary, signing up for French lessons, finding free internet, and doing a whole bunch of laundry. This was a pretty dry post but once I get settled enough to start running amock things are going to get interesting… and once Dan get’s here in a few weeks things will be completely out of control.
My new address:
Adrian Hegyvary
C/O Csepreghy
11 Rue Alberti
Nice, France
06000
And cell (including country code):
+33 06 42 74 5132
Sunday, November 18, 2007
C'est fini
Well, the first part of the trip is over. We finished racing today and Brian took off to stay closer to the airport for his flight tomorrow, and I'm still with Florent until my early morning train to Nice tomorrow. Things went pretty well for us today. Brian was second in his first ever derny race, though he actually won (according to the commisaires as well) because a swiss rider took a lap when the race was still neutral. They ended up sticking to the result though... for some reason... I was fourth in my derny race and can now give my solemn word that they actually are extremely difficult. As simple as it sounds, it feels exactly like motorpacing on the track alone except it never seems to end and you never quite know how fast you'll be going.
My points race heat went well, though again I was only fourth. But I took a lap and placed in a lot of sprints, but it was really tough racing in general today because the swiss riders started to work against us. The last madison was actually extremely boring except for another attack during the neutral lap. We didn't know going in but there were no sprints, so it was essentially a "chase" to see if anyone could take any laps. Swiss teams held the top three spots though so we all just rode tempo and looked at each other. We ended up 5th overall, tied at something like 192 points and on even laps with 4th place, who happen to be Jackie Simes and David Wiswell. After three days of racing and a ton of events, it came down to the final sprint placing in the final race. Pretty nuts.
For our efforts we came home with 300 francs and some leftover cokes from the concession stand. Actually we've been bumming food from the organizers the whole time, who for some reason took pitty on us above the other racers. Maybe it's because everytime I saw them and there was food within about 30 meters I grinned and said something like "you looking to get rid of that?" In any case, we ended up getting clandestine free meals the whole race.
I am also once again sold on couchsurfing. Though it's a great way to find a place to sleep, it's even more incredible socially when one is welcomed into another, random person's life. What I'm finding is that it's quite a self-selecting group of people who sign up, so whomever accepts your request is super welcoming, open, and of course curious about what you're up to as well. Every night when I go to bed I've completely forgotten about the racing because it's so engaging to spend time with our hosts. If you ever have a bad day and run into too many jerks, just go couchsurfing for a few days and it will restore your faith in humanity.
So tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my winter. Now that I start thinking about it is somewhat intimidating to be moving to a new city where I don't know the language, don't know anyone, and don't even have the key to the apartment where I'll supposedly be staying. Hmm. It's time to go nose to the grindstone on French and finding buddies becuase otherwise I'm in for some alone time. Maybe if I just find a nice French girl that would solve both problems.....
My points race heat went well, though again I was only fourth. But I took a lap and placed in a lot of sprints, but it was really tough racing in general today because the swiss riders started to work against us. The last madison was actually extremely boring except for another attack during the neutral lap. We didn't know going in but there were no sprints, so it was essentially a "chase" to see if anyone could take any laps. Swiss teams held the top three spots though so we all just rode tempo and looked at each other. We ended up 5th overall, tied at something like 192 points and on even laps with 4th place, who happen to be Jackie Simes and David Wiswell. After three days of racing and a ton of events, it came down to the final sprint placing in the final race. Pretty nuts.
For our efforts we came home with 300 francs and some leftover cokes from the concession stand. Actually we've been bumming food from the organizers the whole time, who for some reason took pitty on us above the other racers. Maybe it's because everytime I saw them and there was food within about 30 meters I grinned and said something like "you looking to get rid of that?" In any case, we ended up getting clandestine free meals the whole race.
I am also once again sold on couchsurfing. Though it's a great way to find a place to sleep, it's even more incredible socially when one is welcomed into another, random person's life. What I'm finding is that it's quite a self-selecting group of people who sign up, so whomever accepts your request is super welcoming, open, and of course curious about what you're up to as well. Every night when I go to bed I've completely forgotten about the racing because it's so engaging to spend time with our hosts. If you ever have a bad day and run into too many jerks, just go couchsurfing for a few days and it will restore your faith in humanity.
So tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my winter. Now that I start thinking about it is somewhat intimidating to be moving to a new city where I don't know the language, don't know anyone, and don't even have the key to the apartment where I'll supposedly be staying. Hmm. It's time to go nose to the grindstone on French and finding buddies becuase otherwise I'm in for some alone time. Maybe if I just find a nice French girl that would solve both problems.....
Friday, November 16, 2007
Au revoir, Allemagne...
...et bonjour, Swisse! Our train down to Geneva went swimmingly and we've been here for two days now. It came down to the wire on finding a place to stay, and we were beginning to lose faith in couchsurfing after many non-replies and rejections (all with compelling excuses, however). But things worked out at the last minute and we're staying with an extremely nice French ex-pat named Florent. Florent is in his 40s, lives alone, and runs a small massage business out of his flat. Our stay has been great for a number of reasons, among them post-race massages and seafood risotto. We're also pleased to not be staying in the bomb-shelter provided by the race, if for no other reason than to save 10 francs a night.
The racing has been good, though more of the same in the leg and lung department. I feel like I've been chasing fitness since arriving... first getting behind the eight-ball from the flight, then from not being able to ride for a few days, and now from being sick. We're stuck in a rut of needing to ride into things over the first two days then try to compensate on the final day, but in a three day event you can't really afford to have an off-night. That said, things are going better here. We've had only individual events so far, but both of us have had some top-5s and we're sitting somewhere around there overall. The small track definitely takes some getting used to, and I've had to gear down quite a bit to keep from bogging in the turns. For the individual events an 87" gear has been feeling big, and I'll probably ride an 86" for the Madison tonight.
Geneva itself is pretty nice, and quite different than I expected. In general Switzerland has a very amusement-park, overly-manicured feel to it, and certainly there are parts of Geneva like that. But it's not all cookie-cutter, and there are some more interesting parts of the city that we've walked through with more ecclectic architecture and people. It's still quite expensive on the Doner index (like the Big Mac index, but for Europe), as the cheapest ones here run around $8 compared to about $3 in Germany. But it's still not as outrageously expensive as say, Copenhagen. We've also been pleasantly surprised at how nice everyone is. We have yet to find any jerks, which unfortunately can't be said of the other places we've been.
Florent has also been helping me with French, and has even told me a bit about Nice as he used to live there. In fact I've run into a number of people who've lived in Nice and all of them gave some useful insights. Geneva is warmer than Germany, but all this talk about Nice and the ten-day forecast makes me pretty excited for the move on Monday. Keirins and Madisons coming up tonight, then tomorrow morning we'll take a crack at Derny racing. Anyone have any recommendations? And don't say hold the wheel and turn left.
The racing has been good, though more of the same in the leg and lung department. I feel like I've been chasing fitness since arriving... first getting behind the eight-ball from the flight, then from not being able to ride for a few days, and now from being sick. We're stuck in a rut of needing to ride into things over the first two days then try to compensate on the final day, but in a three day event you can't really afford to have an off-night. That said, things are going better here. We've had only individual events so far, but both of us have had some top-5s and we're sitting somewhere around there overall. The small track definitely takes some getting used to, and I've had to gear down quite a bit to keep from bogging in the turns. For the individual events an 87" gear has been feeling big, and I'll probably ride an 86" for the Madison tonight.
Geneva itself is pretty nice, and quite different than I expected. In general Switzerland has a very amusement-park, overly-manicured feel to it, and certainly there are parts of Geneva like that. But it's not all cookie-cutter, and there are some more interesting parts of the city that we've walked through with more ecclectic architecture and people. It's still quite expensive on the Doner index (like the Big Mac index, but for Europe), as the cheapest ones here run around $8 compared to about $3 in Germany. But it's still not as outrageously expensive as say, Copenhagen. We've also been pleasantly surprised at how nice everyone is. We have yet to find any jerks, which unfortunately can't be said of the other places we've been.
Florent has also been helping me with French, and has even told me a bit about Nice as he used to live there. In fact I've run into a number of people who've lived in Nice and all of them gave some useful insights. Geneva is warmer than Germany, but all this talk about Nice and the ten-day forecast makes me pretty excited for the move on Monday. Keirins and Madisons coming up tonight, then tomorrow morning we'll take a crack at Derny racing. Anyone have any recommendations? And don't say hold the wheel and turn left.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Kalt. Bitter, bitter kalt.
So, I'm not sure why I didn't read the memo before leaving home, but apparently Europe is really really cold in the winter. Crap. Today we rode about 1:30 through the snow because we're racing friday and don't want a repeat of last week. I'm getting over my cold but it looks Brian and I should have layed off the snuggling these last few days because now he has it. I'm thinking today's excursion didn't help his condition. On the plus side he has lots of Mullermilch to keep him healthy. To those out of the know, Mullermilch is probably the single most delicious thing in the world, at least from the malty/chocolaty/dairy drink category. He waxes poetic about it on his blog.
Tomorrow we're taking the train to Geneva for our last race together. It might prove more complicated than anticipated because apparently all of Europe's railway operators are going on strike out of solidarity with the French train operators who can no longer retire at 50 and receive state pension. France is running on about 10-15% of capacity and apparently Germany is at about 50%. Couchsurfing.com has also let us down somewhat because we don't yet have a place to stay in Geneva. I have to work on my form a little because we've received about ten rejections so far. Come on Switzerland, don't less us down!
And speaking of French trains, I have another very interesting bit of news from the last few days. Thanks to a family friend there's a vacant apartment in Nice where I can stay for free through February. Who could say no? So rather than return to the deep freeze Germany seems to be plunging into, I'll just continue south to winter on the Mediterranean. Pretty sweet. It looks Dan Harm will also be my partner in crime for the next chunk of racing (including any combination of Vienna, Maastricht, Zurich, and Rotterdam), so that will be rediculous. REDICULOUS. And if anyone from the Netherlands happens to know someone in charge of the the invitations for Maastrich and Rotterdam, we could still use a hand getting in there. In return we can do things like move around heavy objects, perform quality control at the cafeterias, and chaperone podium girls.
I think that's it from Tubingen. It's been really nice staying with Csaba and Emese and I'm sad I won't be living here after all. Geneva also looks like a great event, the track is only 166m long and they've put together a full schedule including points races, scratch races, eliminations, keirins, and even derny racing. I'm a little ambivalent about doing my first derny race on a 166, but I'm not without a strategy; I figure if I can just push a bigger gear, at a higher cadence, for longer than anyone else, I should be able to win. Yeaaah.
Tomorrow we're taking the train to Geneva for our last race together. It might prove more complicated than anticipated because apparently all of Europe's railway operators are going on strike out of solidarity with the French train operators who can no longer retire at 50 and receive state pension. France is running on about 10-15% of capacity and apparently Germany is at about 50%. Couchsurfing.com has also let us down somewhat because we don't yet have a place to stay in Geneva. I have to work on my form a little because we've received about ten rejections so far. Come on Switzerland, don't less us down!
And speaking of French trains, I have another very interesting bit of news from the last few days. Thanks to a family friend there's a vacant apartment in Nice where I can stay for free through February. Who could say no? So rather than return to the deep freeze Germany seems to be plunging into, I'll just continue south to winter on the Mediterranean. Pretty sweet. It looks Dan Harm will also be my partner in crime for the next chunk of racing (including any combination of Vienna, Maastricht, Zurich, and Rotterdam), so that will be rediculous. REDICULOUS. And if anyone from the Netherlands happens to know someone in charge of the the invitations for Maastrich and Rotterdam, we could still use a hand getting in there. In return we can do things like move around heavy objects, perform quality control at the cafeterias, and chaperone podium girls.
I think that's it from Tubingen. It's been really nice staying with Csaba and Emese and I'm sad I won't be living here after all. Geneva also looks like a great event, the track is only 166m long and they've put together a full schedule including points races, scratch races, eliminations, keirins, and even derny racing. I'm a little ambivalent about doing my first derny race on a 166, but I'm not without a strategy; I figure if I can just push a bigger gear, at a higher cadence, for longer than anyone else, I should be able to win. Yeaaah.
Monday, November 12, 2007
I think this picture is pretty savage... It also captures our swanky Cane Creeks well, which have drawn a lot of attention of late. A lot of the pros have been looking with their hands and the head mechanic for T-Mobile asked us for a pair. So far they've been great to ride and seem particularly well-suited to this style of racing--high average speed but with lots of accelerations.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Bizarrrrrro
The last few days have been pretty nuts. The short story is that we finished racing in Munich, parted ways with David on some very strange/rocky terms, and are now staying with my cousin Csaba and his wife Emese in Tubingen, Germany. The long story is yet to come, but I'll at least recap the stories from the races.
Night two was another highly underwhelming evening of racing. During the day there was some friction within the team that led to us not getting much time on the track and our heads being elsewhere (more on this later, as it unfolds). Another very significant factor in not getting much track time is that I forgot my shorts back at the "compound." Lucky for me I wore underwear that day, and even luckier that they were black and could pass for bike shorts... from afar anyway. I used safety pins to attach my legwarmers to the bottoms and close up the fly, but I still showed quite a bit of inner thigh while riding. But hey, it's Europe, this thing is totally cool, right?
This is a good lead-in for my feature video which you will find immediately below. It is the result of having lots of time, pictures, and dubstep on my hands, then deciding to put them all together in one place for my beloved blog readers. Anyway, the first segment when I'm riding is taken in my skivies, and there is also a picture at the end of the full ensemble. Don't worry, the whole thing is very much PG, even by Euro standards.
Moving along. The last night in Munich was by far our best race yet. We scored in four sprints, took a lap with a small group at one point, and in general were making ourselves a factor in the race and not making stupid mistakes. One problem with racing in Europe, however, is the exchange rate. Not just the half-again Dollar to Euro exchange rate, but the way foreign riders are scored during the race. For instance, if a foreign team, let's just hypothetically say two handsome young lads from the US on the red team from the 2007 Munich 6 Day, were to score 10 points and finish at 2 laps on the final night of racing, in the results they will show up with 7 points and at 3 laps. Got it? The same exchange rate is also applied to all other non-German teams, even those on the Euro.
In any case, it made not such a significant difference in the overall standings after two crappy nights, so even if we wanted to dispute it in our best German it wouldn't have been worth it. But we were satisfied in knowing that it had finally clicked for us and that many of the strong teams at the race congratulated us on riding well in the finale.
This morning we bid our humble dwellings in Oberschleissheim goodbye and took the three-hour train to Tubingen, which is about 40km south of Stuttgart. In spite of having to lug around our big bike cases it went really smoothly and was actually quite a fun day. We finally got a chance to see more of the countryside than simply the flickers of light coming through our airhole in the back of the hostage van, and it was much faster and more comfortable to boot.
When we arrived Csabi picked us up at the station and we were welcomed to an amazing three-course Hungarian lunch complete with multiple rounds of dessert. We'll be here until Thursday checking out the very lovely city and finding our next Couch Surfing hosts in Geneva. I also came out of Munich with a nasty cold so I imagine a nice block of R&R is in the cards as well.
And stay tuned for stories from the Real World Munich 6-Day once the dust settles... is Adrian in for a repeat of kerekparsport.blogspot.com? Will Brian continue his lucky streak? Only time will tell.
Night two was another highly underwhelming evening of racing. During the day there was some friction within the team that led to us not getting much time on the track and our heads being elsewhere (more on this later, as it unfolds). Another very significant factor in not getting much track time is that I forgot my shorts back at the "compound." Lucky for me I wore underwear that day, and even luckier that they were black and could pass for bike shorts... from afar anyway. I used safety pins to attach my legwarmers to the bottoms and close up the fly, but I still showed quite a bit of inner thigh while riding. But hey, it's Europe, this thing is totally cool, right?
This is a good lead-in for my feature video which you will find immediately below. It is the result of having lots of time, pictures, and dubstep on my hands, then deciding to put them all together in one place for my beloved blog readers. Anyway, the first segment when I'm riding is taken in my skivies, and there is also a picture at the end of the full ensemble. Don't worry, the whole thing is very much PG, even by Euro standards.
Moving along. The last night in Munich was by far our best race yet. We scored in four sprints, took a lap with a small group at one point, and in general were making ourselves a factor in the race and not making stupid mistakes. One problem with racing in Europe, however, is the exchange rate. Not just the half-again Dollar to Euro exchange rate, but the way foreign riders are scored during the race. For instance, if a foreign team, let's just hypothetically say two handsome young lads from the US on the red team from the 2007 Munich 6 Day, were to score 10 points and finish at 2 laps on the final night of racing, in the results they will show up with 7 points and at 3 laps. Got it? The same exchange rate is also applied to all other non-German teams, even those on the Euro.
In any case, it made not such a significant difference in the overall standings after two crappy nights, so even if we wanted to dispute it in our best German it wouldn't have been worth it. But we were satisfied in knowing that it had finally clicked for us and that many of the strong teams at the race congratulated us on riding well in the finale.
This morning we bid our humble dwellings in Oberschleissheim goodbye and took the three-hour train to Tubingen, which is about 40km south of Stuttgart. In spite of having to lug around our big bike cases it went really smoothly and was actually quite a fun day. We finally got a chance to see more of the countryside than simply the flickers of light coming through our airhole in the back of the hostage van, and it was much faster and more comfortable to boot.
When we arrived Csabi picked us up at the station and we were welcomed to an amazing three-course Hungarian lunch complete with multiple rounds of dessert. We'll be here until Thursday checking out the very lovely city and finding our next Couch Surfing hosts in Geneva. I also came out of Munich with a nasty cold so I imagine a nice block of R&R is in the cards as well.
And stay tuned for stories from the Real World Munich 6-Day once the dust settles... is Adrian in for a repeat of kerekparsport.blogspot.com? Will Brian continue his lucky streak? Only time will tell.
Ich liebe Deutschland!
There are a few great things about Germany, including the wide assortment of yoghurts and sandwich meats and cheeses. But also great is the occasional, but complete disregard for subtlety or diplomacy:
This little pearl comes from the daily newspaper for the Munich Six-Day, where we’ve just finished our first day of racing. Things were mediocre for us on the first night. The track is a huge improvement over Dortmund, though it’s a touch slippery because the entire surface is painted. I’m not sure what they have against just leaving the wood exposed, except perhaps to try to match it to the rest of Munich which has a very apocalyptic, industrial feel to it. Anyway, due to circumstances outside of our control we weren’t able to ride for two days going into the race so we both felt like crap. Brian was bonking because we thought we’d be fed dinner before the race, but it turned out to be after so he was racing on a seven-hour fast. I store enough food from breakfast in my cheeks to make it through, but I felt like someone was choking me the whole race since it was the first time I used my lungs in a few days. The field here is much more level though, and last night was still an improvement for us in our riding partnership, so hopefully we’ll pull it together and get a result one night.
Our accommodations are a bit of a step down from the Hilton from last week, but they’re still pretty cool. We’re staying north of town in a little place called Oberschleißheim, which at first sounded like a cartoon caricature of German name, but in fact turns out to be a real place. The “facility” is a dorm built next to a 2km man-made lake that was used for the crew events at the 1972 Olympics, so the rooms are hotel-sized but have 4-6 beds each. We were a bit worried they’d all be occupied at first, but it’s just one team to a room so there’s plenty of space. Our biggest complication is that there is one bathroom on the floor for each sex, and we were all swinging both ways until an unfortunate incident in the shower when one rider discovered that someone brought his mother along. So now one end of the hallway smells like an open sewer and those of us on the other end of the long, un-lit, horror-movie hallway pee out of our second story windows. I should perhaps note that I don’t actually have any evidence that anyone other than me has peed out the window, but it’s just so much fun and so logical that I can only imagine everyone else is doing it.
Taking a step back, we left Dortmund on Wednesday morning for the six hour drive to Munich. It was a little sad to leave our new buddies in Dortmund, not like sappy-sad but more just that we had a lot of fun and sitting in the back of a cargo van for a few hours isn’t. That said, one perk of our few days of debauchery is I slept the entire way on an ill-fashioned bed of wheel bags and bike cases. Then, in perhaps the most disorienting three minutes of my life, I awoke inside the Munich Velodrome, about 30ft underground, to bright blue lights, industrial/apocalyptic music playing in the giant hall, and some guy riding a 85cc dirtbike inside a giant steel freedom ball. Why can’t bike racing be like this at home?
This little pearl comes from the daily newspaper for the Munich Six-Day, where we’ve just finished our first day of racing. Things were mediocre for us on the first night. The track is a huge improvement over Dortmund, though it’s a touch slippery because the entire surface is painted. I’m not sure what they have against just leaving the wood exposed, except perhaps to try to match it to the rest of Munich which has a very apocalyptic, industrial feel to it. Anyway, due to circumstances outside of our control we weren’t able to ride for two days going into the race so we both felt like crap. Brian was bonking because we thought we’d be fed dinner before the race, but it turned out to be after so he was racing on a seven-hour fast. I store enough food from breakfast in my cheeks to make it through, but I felt like someone was choking me the whole race since it was the first time I used my lungs in a few days. The field here is much more level though, and last night was still an improvement for us in our riding partnership, so hopefully we’ll pull it together and get a result one night.
Our accommodations are a bit of a step down from the Hilton from last week, but they’re still pretty cool. We’re staying north of town in a little place called Oberschleißheim, which at first sounded like a cartoon caricature of German name, but in fact turns out to be a real place. The “facility” is a dorm built next to a 2km man-made lake that was used for the crew events at the 1972 Olympics, so the rooms are hotel-sized but have 4-6 beds each. We were a bit worried they’d all be occupied at first, but it’s just one team to a room so there’s plenty of space. Our biggest complication is that there is one bathroom on the floor for each sex, and we were all swinging both ways until an unfortunate incident in the shower when one rider discovered that someone brought his mother along. So now one end of the hallway smells like an open sewer and those of us on the other end of the long, un-lit, horror-movie hallway pee out of our second story windows. I should perhaps note that I don’t actually have any evidence that anyone other than me has peed out the window, but it’s just so much fun and so logical that I can only imagine everyone else is doing it.
Taking a step back, we left Dortmund on Wednesday morning for the six hour drive to Munich. It was a little sad to leave our new buddies in Dortmund, not like sappy-sad but more just that we had a lot of fun and sitting in the back of a cargo van for a few hours isn’t. That said, one perk of our few days of debauchery is I slept the entire way on an ill-fashioned bed of wheel bags and bike cases. Then, in perhaps the most disorienting three minutes of my life, I awoke inside the Munich Velodrome, about 30ft underground, to bright blue lights, industrial/apocalyptic music playing in the giant hall, and some guy riding a 85cc dirtbike inside a giant steel freedom ball. Why can’t bike racing be like this at home?
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
