Break'n Out the Pasties

It was only the fourth time this year I had busted out the pasties. One doesn’t count because it was in Colorado, the other two were earlier last week. But on Sunday everyone busted out their pasties. There were men with pasties, women with pasties, even juniors with pasties. There were Cat 4 pasties, Cat 3 pasties, and yes – even professional pasties. There were big pasties, small pasties, hairy pasties, smooth pasties, and even a few not so pasty pasties.

Yes, on Sunday for the first time all year the local race peloton bared their legs in all their pasty white glory. With temperatures expected towards 70 it was definitely shorts weather, it was a bit windy, but that was a small deterrence. I came ready for the assault on my senses armed with sunscreen, and more importantly my mirror lenses in my sun glasses.

The Cat3/Master’s A race started out pasty. Pasty legs and a pasty pace set up the first climb. I continue to be amazed at how tight the pack rides together and the aggressiveness that some people have in positioning. At one point I was between two guys, out of the saddle hitting bars with them on both sides when we rocked – pretty close right? Apparently not close enough, someone tried to squeeze up on my right.

The pasty pace ended at the top of the hill when someone took advantage of a nasty headwind to blow up the field. With the pack breaking up I tried to hang on to the group I was in and weather the storm. I was suffering like a dog, but think I was going to be ok as we were headed into a downhill.

The road was a bit bumpy and my stiff carbon wheels were transmitting every bump fully into my bike, body, and apparently my stem. Just before the downhill I noticed my handlebars slipping down in the stem.

No problem – I’ll go drops, ok the hoods came up – too far. No Problem – I’ll go hoods, whoops no hoods - down wwaaaayyyy too far. No problem, I’ll go drops – here come those hoods again. Damn it.

All this at the top of a hill, dangling on the back of a bunch, we’re up to about 40 already. Then the bar starts moving side to side in the stem – umm problem.

Did you know it takes about half a mile to stop when you are going downhill at about 40 with jelly handlebars? That was the scariest minute or so I have ever had on the bike. When I finally stopped I didn’t have any tools to tighten the stem – not even anything to MacGyver it with. I had some Goo, but I don’t think that would of held – powerbar maybe, but Goo no. Where are those bike guys with the huge saddle bag with every tool known to man when you need them?

Ultimately I had little choice but to call it a day about 5 miles in. I am completely wiped out emotionally, I have been suffering all spring – but this is just not the way to end a race and be eliminated from the spring series.

Anyhow, you may have guessed I got a new stem last week – part of my new old man bike fit. Apparently my mechanic (me) didn’t tighten the stem bolts quite enough. Some day when I get rich I am going to pay someone competent to work on my bike, until then I will just hope for the best.

Gotta go. I am running out of time to figure out how to keep my bike together for 3 trips over the gravel out in Emmett.