Rockwell Relay, Part 4: Valley of the Shadow of Death? Sounds Pretty Good, as Long as There’s Really Shade

06.19.2013 | 10:54 am

A Note About My Good Friends at Twin Six: Before getting to today’s story, I want to show you with a little something — just a little tiny piece of the 2014 Fat Cyclist jersey:

NewImage

See? Told you it was tiny.

But the design is finished. Locked down. And I’ll be showing more of it soon. And I’ll be giving away the complete 2014 kit — jersey, bibs, and socks — to someone. Read on to find out how. 

I’ve always been a big fan of the Twin Six T-Shirt of the Month — a limited-edition run of a cool t-shirt design that comes out on the sixth (get it?) of each month. I always like it. And often I buy it. Sometimes, though, I miss it, either because I’m not around on the sixth, or I forget, or I’m lazy, or my wallet is currently lost. 

So a couple years ago, I told the T6 guys, “You should do a t-shirt of the month subscription program. I would totally sign up.” 

“A lot of people have been telling us that,” they said. And that was the end of that conversation.

Until now.

Right now — just ’til this upcoming Monday — Twin Six is doing a T-shirt of the month subscription (for both men’s sizing and women’s sizing). You can sign up for three, six, or twelve months, and of course you get better discounts the longer your subscription. 

Imagine: every month, like clockwork, you’ll get an awesome new t-shirt. You will be so happy. And your friends will also be so happy, too, seeing that you’ve started diversifying your t-shirt collection. And strangers who see you will be so happy because they will get to enjoy the new work of art you are wearing.

The world will be, in short, a much better place.

Here, by way of visual demonstration, are a few samples of  t-shirt of the month designs from months and years of yore:

NewImage

NewImage

NewImage

There is not a single one of these shirts I would not want. Unfortunately for you and me, you can’t get them anymore — that’s the nature of the t-shirt of the month. They’re limited. Buy them when they come out, or miss out. 

Let me give you a little background on why Twin Six is trying out this program. For one thing, they’re doing it because it’s an interesting idea and they want to see if it will work. For another, they’re doing it to raise some extra money, because they’ve got a couple super-duper secret projects in the works, and they need a little extra money to get them off the ground.

What are those secret projects? Twin Six wouldn’t tell me. Which pissed me off pretty bad. But I got over it, because I am a wonderful person. And because I think a small company with big ideas and awesome products deserve support. 

Oh, and one lucky person who subscribes will get the full 2014 FatCyclist.com kit: jersey, bibs, and socks. The whole thing. Yup.

And in short, allow me to recommend you get yourself a Twin Six T-Shirt of The Month Subscription. Men, click here. Women, click here.

Rockwell Relay, Part 4

In the most recent installment of this series (if you’re not caught up, you should probably read part 1, part 2 and part 3 before continuing), The Hammer was riding up to her first exchange point. Heather was clipped in, ready to take the baton and head off on what is — every single year — the hottest, head-windiest stage of the race. 

But right as The Hammer arrived — and I mean literally, right as she arrived – Heather’s back tire exploded. Not just a psssssssss. More of a 

POF!

As you would expect, some people jumped, and all heads turned, knowing exactly what that sound meant. But the explosion from the tire — and the resulting head-turning and jumping — were nothing compared to what came from the normally calm, cool, and collected Heather.

$&*#&$@#! KENNY! MY ^*$@!!^& TIRE JUST %^$$#(&!@ EXPLODED!

Kenny and I sprang into action. Specifically, we both ran away from Heather. I have never checked with Kenny on his intentions, but I was running away 30% because I wanted to grab the spare back wheel we had pumped up and ready to go in the back of the van, and 70% because my fight-or-flight reflex had kicked in and I’m more a “flight” kind of guy.

Maybe Kenny is too, because he got to the van before I did. He grabbed the wheel and we both dashed back to Heather to get the wheel on her bike in what we hoped was record time.

Unfortunately for everyone, I am even clumsier when my system is flooded with adrenaline than when I’m not. Which is very clumsy indeed. As a result, I thoroughly hampered Kenny as he swapped out the wheel, probably increasing the amount of time it took by about 90 seconds.

I’m not absolutely certain, but at one point I may have heard the Benny Hill theme begin playing.

After what seemed an eternity — but was probably really less than three minutes — we had Heather back on her bike and on her way. 

The Hammer took a shower — as it turns out, I would be the only one to not get to use the shower, which is really much sadder for everyone else than for me, when you think about it — and we loaded up and took off to catch up with Heather, hoping hoping hoping that she had not flatted again.

More Trouble

As we drove, looking for Heather, I said, “Well, that’s the worst possible time for a flat to have happened.”

Kenny disagreed. “Really, it was the best possible time. We were right there, the van was stopped and empty. The worst possible time for that tire to explode would have been about two minutes later, after Heather had ridden away from us, so we wouldn’t know she had flatted ’til after we got back to her twenty minutes later.”

Kenny was right, I agreed, and then said, “Well, let’s hope she hasn’t flatted again since she left us.”

I stepped on the gas. (Kenny was in the passenger seat, I was driving, The Hammer was in the back, recovering). 

As we got near Heather, the temperature tipped over to 100 degrees, which is where it would hover for almost the entirety of her 45-mile ride. So we made sure we had a new bottle, packed with ice, to hand to her as soon as we rode by.

“How’re you doing?” Kenny shouted.

“My gears keep ghost-shifting!” Heather called out. “And the chain’s dropped off twice.”

In fact, the only gear that would reliably stay in place was a tall gear, meaning that for the first big climb of the ride, Heather couldn’t spin her way up. Clearly, the cycling gods had decided that on this day, Heather would have the mechanical troubles of the entire team heaped upon her.

We had to come up with a fix, fast. One that wouldn’t mean a long stop for Heather. 

Kenny and The Hammer swapped places — The Hammer would have to recover while she also took care of Heather. Meanwhile, Kenny got Heather’s old wheel — the one that had just blown — and took the tire off, figuring that it was at least probable that some little undetectable thorn or piece of glass was the culprit of Heather’s blown tire. Kenny then stole a tire from one of our spare front wheels (we could afford this, since we had two spare fronts) and put it on Heaher’s original wheel. He pumped it up while we drove, and then we pulled over, waiting for Heather.

As we stood there, Kenny said, as nicely as he could, “Fatty, just stand aside and let me do this alone. It will go faster.”

I agreed.

But then, when Heather arrived, I couldn’t help myself. I immediately pulled the quick release and started pulling off the wheel, when Kenny caught my eye with a “Really?” look.

“Sorry,” I said, and backed away.

Kenny made the change, Heather got back on her bike, and rode on into the brutal heat and what was becoming a truly awful headwind. And the bike continued to mis-shift. 

IMG 6779

She did not look happy. 

Bonus Miles Applied

As we drove, it became apparent that moving The Hammer up to the passenger seat had been a great idea. Her nurse persona came out and she pep-talked Heather through her stage of the ride.

Meanwhile in the van, we talked about the deceptive nature of this stage. On paper, its one of the easier stages: 45 miles, 1900 feet of climbing. Tough, but not really that tough. In reality, though, we all agreed that this is — without question — the most difficult stage of the race. It’s the hottest. The climbing is a long, relentless grind — the kind that wears you down, not the kind you stand up and get over with.

And it has featured a headwind every year we’ve done it.

We therefore awarded Heather an honorary 20 bonus miles for the race. When apprised of this fact (by way of having it shouted at her out the window), Heather seemed only mildly appeased.

Suffer

We got to within fifteen miles of the exchange point — where it would be my turn to ride again. By now, Kenny was driving, I was in the back seat, changing into my bike clothes and eating slice after slice of pizza.

There was no pre-ride nutrition strategy to this. I just really like pizza.

I am pretty sure I ate four slices.

OK, back to the story.

We made sure Heather had two full, cold bottles, wished her good luck, and took off.

And then, feeling the wind buck the van, I said, “I don’t think we should leave her quite yet. Fifteen miles is a long way to fight this headwind alone.”

So we stuck with Heather ’til we were within ten miles of the exchange point. During which time, she caught up with and pulled along another rider. Their heads tell the whole story:

IMG 6784

Finally, we had to go.

Wait

In ten minutes, we were at the exchange point. The Hammer went to go buy everyone — except me — ice cream, while I got my bike ready. Then I rolled up to the line, my bike pointing forward, my head craned around, looking back.

And there I saw Tommy, from Team 91. Bike pointed forward, head craned around, looking back. 

“So you’re the team that’s going to break our streak,” I said. “At the last exchange, you were already 25 minutes ahead of us.”

“Well, it’s not a fair fight,” Tommy said, referring to how their team had three guys racing, while Team Fatty had two. “On the other hand, our woman is pretty new to riding.”

“Well, she’s holding her own on this leg,” I said. We had passed her in the van; I knew she was close and would be handing the baton off to Tommy in just a minute or two. 

“In any case, this is an amazing race — just beautiful,” said Tommy. “And this leg of it we’re about to do is the most beautiful of all.” Which made me mad, because it’s really hard to think of a guy as your sworn enemy when he’s really nice and also right.

Tommy’s teammate rolled up, looking exhausted and encrusted with salt, and handed the baton to Tommy. He left only three minutes behind a pack of four riders going together; I knew there was a great chance he’d catch them and together they’d make excellent time on this leg of the course.

I checked my watch and started mentally counting the minutes ’til Heather arrived.

Five minutes went by. I stared back, willing Heather to appear — to have somehow eaten away twenty minutes of the lead of Team 91.

Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Nobody had rolled through in fifteen minutes. There was no chance whatsoever I was going to be able to catch and ride with a group ahead of me. 

Twenty minutes. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. 

And then there was Heather. Even from a couple hundred yards away, I could tell she was cooked to a whole new level of doneness. She came in just a minute or so behind another rider, giving me someone to chase after all.

Heather had been faster than the woman on Team 91, but just by a minute. We were still 24 minutes behind them. Things looked bad. 

Still, what Tommy had said stuck with me: she was a new rider. And while she was quite obviously a strong rider, cycling endurance is something you earn over time. And Heather tends to get stronger and faster the longer she rides.

So it wasn’t quite time for us to toss in the towel. 

It was my turn to ride now, and I wanted to go

Which is where we’ll pick up in the next installment.

20 Comments

  1. Comment by Andy@WDW | 06.19.2013 | 11:53 am

    Seriously, Fatty? Seriously? You’d already doubled down on the suspense with the cliffhangers and the trickle of 100MON write ups, and now you up the ante with teasers about your kit for this year. In my mind, each morning when you upload your post, I see you rubbing your hands together, tossing your head back, and letting out a maniacal laugh.

    Time to go talk to my boss about working some overtime to cover the new jersey.

  2. Comment by Christina | 06.19.2013 | 1:20 pm

    I gave in and looked up results, because it was too much. It’s like flipping past a scary part in a book. I am, however, still enjoying this story immensely. Good writing means that, even though I know results, I want to still know the story.

    And I’m starting to lose my T6 resistance…

  3. Comment by Brian in VA | 06.19.2013 | 1:39 pm

    Benny Hill theme music….excellent reference. Any time that stupid stuff happens at work, I immediately start humming it.

  4. Comment by KevinM_IND | 06.19.2013 | 1:49 pm

    Nice story telling Fatty …. On the edge of my seat and anxiously awaiting the next installment ….

  5. Comment by Kit | 06.19.2013 | 2:35 pm

    Arrrrgh! I am digging this story. Cant wait for the next installment. I get to read this everyday after lunch with my afternoon coffee.

  6. Comment by SeanB | 06.19.2013 | 2:38 pm

    Who’da thunk to check the results? Surely that will speed Fatty up and stop with the enduro blogging. Great stories, but it was driving me crazy waiting for the next, tantalizing installment.

  7. Comment by UpTheGrade SR,CA | 06.19.2013 | 2:39 pm

    Last evening at my daughter’s request I prepped the old Panasonic road bike so she could ride to work. I had just put 75psi in the 70×1.25 inch tires and was getting oil for the chain when the rear tire exploded! So load it set off the car alarms and everyone in the house piled out to see what bomb I had set off! It literally blew the tire off the rim and made a 6 inch split in the tube. I guess the rubber had thinned out in a section from just sitting there unused. Good thing it happened at home and not while being ridden.
    Fascinating telling of the Rockwell Relay saga!

  8. Comment by Davidh-Marin,ca | 06.19.2013 | 2:54 pm

    Between the morning ride and the afternoon spa treatment I had to check in on the story. (Helping Wife#1 get prepped for Davis)
    Yes life in Northern California requires effort.

    Great writing Fatty. Hard to fathom that we will have to wait till next year to hear a story so well told, with drama, heat, and cliffhangers. Oh wait! There’s always Leadville.

    I would love to see this story presented in parallel columns. On the left Fatty’s cheery world view, and prose, and, on the right; the rider’s personal vision of suffering.

    Kept em coming!

  9. Comment by Diane | 06.19.2013 | 3:41 pm

    Thank you very much!

    I am now patiently awaiting the 2014 Fat Cyclist Kit, which I shall purchase upon release from your good friends at Twin Six, with all deliberate haste.

    Also, I am thoroughly enjoying the Rockwell Relay Saga.

    Thanks again.

  10. Comment by P Gutty | 06.19.2013 | 4:02 pm

    Oh my, brats n’ pie!

  11. Comment by Heather | 06.19.2013 | 4:43 pm

    %$&*#&$@, Fatty! I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t blog about my little bike tantrum! Now I need Lisa to come and settle me down again … or at least freshen up the smell in my house :)

    Just wait ’til I tell the bit about the espresso…. – FC

  12. Comment by Andy@WDW | 06.19.2013 | 7:38 pm

    You know, if you factor in the tire explosion, Team 91 had a 28 minute lead when Heather started riding. So Heather really rode this leg 4 minutes faster than the woman on Team 91.

  13. Comment by Davidh-Marin,ca | 06.19.2013 | 8:39 pm

    @ P Guffy. Great call out! I missed the brats and pie from T6 the first time ’round. Clearly a subliminal message if ever there was one.

    Way to go Twin 6, way to go!

  14. Comment by DC commuter | 06.20.2013 | 6:58 am

    Only four slices of pizza? I’m starting to doubt your eating ability.

  15. Comment by Pari | 06.20.2013 | 9:16 am

    Why Heather didn’t take Hammer’s bike instead? Is it not allowed or are they so different in size?

    Exactly. You’ll note that Kenny is riding my Orbea (which is the same size as The Hammer’s) this year. Originally, I offered it to Heather, but it didn’t fit. The Hammer’s, with the shorter stem, would fit even worse. And even if they rode roughly the same size bike, there would have been a shoe/pedal incompatibility. Swapping the pedals (their shoe sizes are different) would have taken longer than swapping out the wheels. – FC

  16. Comment by tommy | 06.21.2013 | 1:39 am

    This is fun and I can’t believe I’m in the Fatty Blog! The miserable brutality of the heat and wind on Leg 4 is not understandable unless you were there. In retrospect, we should have pulled Megan kicking and screaming off the course. She was bobbing and weaving from what we learned later was a significant case of heat exposure. That ride was not for the timid and potentially very dangerous in those temps. Next year we will have ice vests and a cooler full of ice water to chill out in after.

    It was nice to chat at transition.

  17. Pingback by Fat Cyclist » Blog Archive » The Rockwell Relay Race Report, Part Five: All by Myselllllllfff | 06.24.2013 | 9:17 am

    [...] In case you haven’t already read them, you might want to read parts one, two, three and four before reading this [...]

  18. Pingback by Fat Cyclist » Blog Archive » Rockwell Relay Race Report 2013, Part 6: In The Company of Strong Women | 06.26.2013 | 10:06 am

    [...] report. If you’re not caught up, you might want to read parts one, two, three, four, five and six [...]

  19. Pingback by Fat Cyclist » Blog Archive » The Gecko and Fatty Symbiosis Begins: 2013 Rockwell Relay Race Report, Part 9 | 07.1.2013 | 3:28 pm

    [...] I do say so myself (which I do). So you may want to catch up by reading parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight before reading this [...]

  20. Pingback by Fat Cyclist » Blog Archive » Rockwell Relay Race Report, Part 11: See, I Told You I’d Eventually Finish | 07.3.2013 | 8:36 am

    [...] in now, you may want to start from the beginning. Here are links for parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and [...]

 

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.