Really windy
I got a day to ride.
I was going to go out to the hills for a long ride.
I called friend Kishi san.
He suggested we ride the flat Ara river.
I knew there were cold winds this time of year. It didn't seem like a good idea so...
Perhaps because I knew we could work together and wouldn't have to worry about each others fitness as much. It seemed like a good idea however...
I had a concern for I heard this service road that parallels the river and has been used by local cyclists for years has been the scene of a big bike ped accident, and that after the accident there was a speed limit of 20kph for cyclists. I was sad about how the wide open road that in some sections was nearly abandoned had been taken from our limited selection of areas to ride. But Kishi told me not to worry about the speed limit and it is fine to ride the river service road. I considered.
So.
Temps in the high thirties but a wind chill near freezing, we went to the river.

Kishi San always gets me into trouble with rides. This would be no different as it was very very windy. We were chugging in the drops keeping it around 28kph. Kishi sat at a downwind angle to me because of the strong cross breeze accompanying. The coldness caused tears and slobber to dry instantly on one side of my face to the other as we turned by the levies and over the bridges that cross the river. We had been hoofing it for about an hour and a half and took a break. It was the first time we could hear each other speak since leaving my place. Our arms and necks were almost as tired as our legs.

I saw one of the best uninterrupted views of Mt. Fuji I'd ever seen, however I was so involved with focusing and controlling my bike it just didn't occur to me to get a photo. We eventually turned off the river road and headed through some flat farming/ suburban sprawl areas. There were times of just howling gale winds but we were too invested in the effort and we just kept going. We went to a hilly area that is very popular with racers and we climbed steep sections and went down flying descents with the tail wind and other riders. It was fun but we were already tired from over two hours of resistance riding and called it after two laps. So now it was time to return in the tail wind.
Haha
This was so easy and fast. Sometimes fun sometimes very technical. Smooth and speedy approaching close to 50 constantly. We quickly retraced our rout through the suburbs and on to the trail. On one flat long undisturbed section of the course we had it rolling at 52 for a good spell. It reminded me a bit of the Coral Hollow back side but longer . We stopped for some drinks and giggled and gaffawed over the easy speed we had.



Returning back over the bridges and the cross winds were even worse. Through one of the many gates to prevent scooter use a huge crosswind slammed my hand into a steel poll and almost cause me to crash. The final section through Tokyo district in the tail wind there was no way we could do twenty as we were doing twenty eight without even pedaling. From this photo you can see how the danger makes it necessary to limit the speed.



Finally getting off the course we sped down the highway egged on even faster by the following traffic. I was home in a blink of an dry eye.

Tokyo Winter Enduro

Kishi San and I had a phone conversation in September right after I returned from Summer holiday in America. He asked me if I'd like to do the Tokyo Enduro ride/ competition in December. I was high and happy from my time off, not a care in the world so I happily answered "yes" and my fate was sealed.



So, why ask in September? This event, due to it's close proximity to central Tokyo is fantastically popular. It is a relay race of 4 hours. Teams of four take turns around a five kilometer loop of service road that runs around Showa (emperor Hirohito) memorial park. The teams are given a little plot of property on a flat dirt lot, the "staging area". On this property the teams can set up their tent and put all their necessities. The gate opens at 9 and the event starts at 10:30 and ends at 2:30. Time to clean up, get home and still have a relaxing evening. A rarity for most cycling events one can attend from Tokyo. The winning team is the one that can do the most laps in four hours.



The team was comprised of myself, Kishi, Sato and Inaba; all locals on the morning Imerial Palace loop ride. Sato brought a tent and supplies that we shared with Sato's wifes team. We arrived at the parking lot at a reasonable time. It was raining hard and temps in the mid thirties (for those of you keeping track through reading my ranting reports, that 50% rain every time I do a race here) We got together our stuff and went to the staging area. The first thing we discovered is that the staging area is over two miles from the parking lot and required a 25 minute walk. By the time we had arrived, set up the tent became soaked with freezing hands we still had to go back to the lot and get on our gear and collect our bikes. Now we were in danger of missing the start time. By this point due to the relentless freezing rain and hundreds of participants the staging area was a mud pit more worthy of cyclocross. The avenues to enter and exit or reach the restroom were complete pools of icy mud. We navigated our way out and back to the parking to get changed.



We tried to get on our gear with frozen fingers and then cruise our bikes down the parks "cycle course" to our tent. As I was cruising along I could see the racers already out on the service road so I knew we were very late to start and out of any competitive situation. I was looking forward to hunching under the tent. Though I had hoped for a stationary trainer to help keep me warm there was no way we could trudge the thing to our camp. Now I would be happy to just sit in my warm clothes over my cycling suit and sip tea. That was not to be however because Sato's wifes team wanted to have a "picnic" and had set up a large camping table/ bench set under the tent. There was a camping oven and "nabe", Japanese stew, cooking as well as a coffee service area. Her team was dressed up and the whole atmosphere was party fun eat.



This left us to stand in the ice cold rain and wait our turn as we tried to just get out and ride our bikes. Our hands were way to cold to pin numbers so we just pinned one of our numbers to a rain coat and switched off using that coat. The switch off area as well is dirt and had turned to slippery mud. A lot of the riders were sliding out during the hand off as other riders were passing to the left. Many riders were shivering uncontrollably as their teammates placed a velcro strap sensor chip around their legs and sent them off. We played rock paper scissors to see our order of turns and I got last. We also decided that just do as many laps as you pleased. Sato went first and came back after two laps reporting that the course was fun but wet and not really dangerous. Kishi did three and looked okay as well reporting that it was safe but not fast. Inaba did four but his last lap took almost fifteen minutes. The whole time I was standing around in the wet mud, feeling my soaking feet and wondering if I was getting the beginnings of trench foot. Finally it was my turn, they threw the rain coat over me and hooked up the vecro strap to my ankle. I hit the course and the song "7 and 7 is" by Love popped into my head and I instantly felt good.



I drove the bike on to the pavement of the service road and warmed quickly. The course is fun and basically light rollers and flat sections. To avoid the slower riders to my left I went straight through the puddles and grime. After the first lap I was able to get in the drops and soon felt like I was doing my weekly time trail at the warf. To my left some riders were costumed including one in a Godzilla outfit, which caused my mental Jukebox to temporally change to BOC's "Godzilla". I passed everyone that was in front of me as the rain started to let up. Inaba, itching to get back on to the less wet course waved his arms to me from the pits but I was steamrolling and held up some fingers to indicate I wanted more laps. I rolled back to the pits unbeaten and switched off. Inaba had miraculously pinned a number to his thermal jersey so I just peeled off my vecro strap and stumbled back to the tent. Me and my bike were a total frigid mess.



I quickly placed every article of clothing I had on me and awaited the chills while sipping coffee. Inaba finished his laps but then I found that Kishi and Sato were satisfied and ready to leave early. A tad bothered by this point I felt like I could have stayed out on the course longer but there was no way I was ready to go back in compared to getting out of there earlier. So I went along with the plan and we went back to the lot to get changed.



Taking down the tent with filthy frigid hands took twice as long but we finally did it and after a couple of long back and forth walks to the staging area the car was packed and we could get on our way. For all the preparation time and waiting I was able to race a total of forty five minutes. I promised myself to never do a cycling event in Japan again... until next time.

Hello
My report is about the 2008 Japan Cup

October 25th was my birthday. I got up very early for the purpose of riding my bike around a crowded public park; dodging buses, charging through fading green lights, attacking- escaping- rejoining- repeat with the cycling pals. After exhausting myself in a fashion that would disgust and anger any of my experienced cycling friends I came home threw on the running shoes and did a 5k with my wife who needs some company. We spent the rest of the morning eating and drinking. I had mentioned with great knowledge to my on line friends, weekend cycling friends, my wife and anyone who would listen how Basso would get hiss Asso kicked and be lucky to limp in with the semi pro's at tomorrow's Japan Cup cycling race which I will attend.

After an afternoon of wandering the Jazz festival we ate another fine meal at a French eatery and finally I came home and packed and prepared to wake up at 2:30.
After my morning coffee and related morning activity I got a call from cycling friend Kishi. He was downstairs outside the building waiting for me in his little compact. I rushed down to find Kishi and other cycling buddy Inaba ready to place my bike on the roof rack and head off to Utsanomia to see the Japan cup, it was 3:20 am.
Not being a car owner I rarely get the chance to see the expressways of Japan. The car launched up a ramp and into what looked like an indoor car roller coaster. Every once in a while I'd get a view of the endless urban scape of Tokyo.

Arriving in the still sunrise we parked on a small mountainside road near the course. We unpacked our bikes while shivering and got on our cycling gear. We went up the steep main climb almost immediately. Kishi and I were climbing like normal but Inaba was on a mission and took off. The king of the mountain game was on right away. After dealing with that discomfort for a couple hours we returned to Kishi's car and cleaned up. We brought the bikes to Yama San, who had camped out next to the course overnight. He came with his family and shared the camp with nearly all the bike shops/ suppliers families from Tokyo. Among them old cycling pal Akiyama, who looked out of shape with a severe hangover. We set off to the start line to get a look at the cycling stars. Cunego and Tiranlongo were checking out the course and letting the fans get a photo op.

The start was classic Japan cup with a group of three from Japanese teams flying the coop to play the KOM game. Yoshiyuki Abe (Japan champ) and Shin-ichi Fukushima (brother of the infamous Koji) big fan favorites were represented so the crowd was going bananas.

Kishi got the scoop that the pro tour teams had met in the hotel the previous night and agreed to mutually enforce a calculation of three minutes for the break. Meanwhile Akiyama was checking out Utsanomia's answer to Belgian frites; gyoza, potstickers. He knows what attending a race is all about. However I indulged in takoyaki, fried octopus balls.

At lap six Abe and Fukushima dropped their third companion. We had moved to the KOM point which was as usual a freak pit.

Things got freakyer as on lap seven Fukushima was climbing alone. The crowd was going so freaky that it was hard to think. Shure enough, less than a minute after he crested the peleton was charging with Lampre leading. The multitudes of spandex costumed lampre lovers shrieked as Cunego's guys were looking back for his boss. He was there relaxed, with a relaxed looking Basso right behind... no way. The group passed over the top with banner wavers, costume wearers and screamers chasing them. But the crowd saved their largest cheers for the stragglers. Faces etched in agony with no choice but to appease their screaming adoring fans by pushing on.

We headed off to the finish line to see the last lap and sprint. We showed up just in time as a small break away group of four went up the leg breaker with none other than my pre race prediction for failure charging ahead with a look of hardly trying dragging my pre race favorites for success, Cunego and Visconti, behind him. He came right at me and I couldn't even reach for my cell phone camera. I just stared at him slacked jawed and yelled, "no f###### way!" Perhaps he heard me, after all he supposedly speaks good English, perhaps not. In any case Ivan Basso was running the show. I was pissed and indignant. Yelling in English how there was no way you could be out of pro racing for two years and be going toe to toe with other Italians who had just completed Tour of Lombardia, one of which won the race. I must have been tired, how could I really care so much? I did incorrectly compare Basso to AIG or Leeman Bros. earlier in the day while bored and trying to generate conversation. But now I was truly emotional. Do I really care? Eh, I'm a guy.
Anyhow, all was set straight as Cunego won the sprint and Visconti took second. Now we had to get out of there. Not to worry. Yama San knew a "secret" road. In fact the road was blocked off. No worries though as unassuming tiny Saito San slipped out of Yama's van and pulled up the barrier as we all went through. He hopped back in the van and we went down some old farming road. The tree branches hung low and Inaba and I leaned out the windows swiping them away in order to protect the bikes while Kishi drove carefully. After cruising through ancient orchards and farming villages we came out ahead of most traffic. Hitting the expressway we were treated to a swarm of motorcycle Yankees, who fashion their cheap rides with back rests that look like enormous banana seats. They wind out their motors in rythmic melodies as they split lanes or merely cruise the emergency lane on the left, don't question it, they're free baby.
I made it home more tired than I'd been in a long time.
Bye

JAPAN CUP 2006


I wasn't planning on going really. Though I've had the occasional blast around Tokyo in the early morning I basically am not interested in cycling. I contemplated quitting and selling my bikes several times in the last couple months but my wife thought better of it. I was really on the fence about going to the Japan Cup as well. Yama San packs his van full of camping gear, stocks up on tons of food at Hamanasa (a kind of Japanese Trader Joes) and gets several coolers of beer and heads out to Utsanomia for camping, bbq and spectating. He eats and drinks starting 1130 at night and then rouses himself in time to watch the race from his tent semi hung over.



However Kishi San had called me several days early and suggested that I come and join him on an early morning ride in the mountains before viewing the event. Maybe he could tell I had the "I don't give a flying turd about cycling any more", look on my face. Maybe he even guessed I had contemplated getting rid of my bikes recently. In any case his tone was encouraging. So on my wifes coaxing I went to join the excursion. Imagine my surprise when Kishi San wasn't there. Typical of my cycling experiences in Japan, I thought. But I was there and committed so we left. I brought my bike but had secretly planned to never bring it down off the roof rack.



After skipping the bbq beer fest and popping a sleeping pill I dozed off in the tent and woke at four am. Yama's wife Aya and another were still awake and chatting . I made some coffee and tried to contact Kishi San. It was useless and I didn't know where to ride, I wasn't dicouraged because I was kind of expecting something like this. Aya san talked me into riding my bike. She said that I could ride the course and come back without any problem. So on her coaxing I changed and brought the bike down off the rack.



As you would expect from a UCI race the course was serious with a kilometer and a half climb that kept hitting out at around twelve percent with a nice twisty decent. Following that up and down rollers and a couple nasty leg breakers towards the start finish line. About fifteen kilometers each lap and the pros would do ten laps, pretty punishing. After one lap I was thinking of calling it quits but Aya suggeted I still had time so I pushed on for another lap and I got lost going through a nearby town. On my backtrack I ran into Kishi San and his group and joined in. Things were coming together and I was kind of getting into it. Since leaving California I hadn't ridden more than two kilometers without seeing a stoplight, suddenly I was experiencing that cycling freedom again and it felt okay. We finished our ride with three and a half laps before the security corraled us back to our tents.



I got changed and ate some of Yama Sans morning bbq and prepaired to watch some racing. Basically the Japan Cup unfolds the same way each year. The Japanese domestic squads fly the coop early and battle it out for the KOM honors, then the Pro Tour Teams join forces to bring them back then all habibas break loose on the last three laps. The interesting story this time was Discover Channels presence of five riders including Japan champ Beppu Fukiyumi, who would be a national hero if he could pull the win. Also the Euro continental team Skil Shimano was strongly represented and wasn't really Pro Tour and wasn't really domestic, they had thier own agenda and it showed as they placed four riders in the initial break away and rode very aggresively throughout.


(Skill Shimano rider leading the break with everybodies favorite Koji Fukishima sweeping up some KOM points)

After bbq spaghetti brunch and early beer things were getting kinda dull in the Yama camp so I struck out on my own and low and behold there was Kishi San again. We agreed to head up the mountain to watch the chase ensue and see the fan scene. Actually it turned out to be a total blast. The whole mountain side was swarming with enthusiasm over the race. Fans for the different riders created songs praising thier efforts and created special banners and jersies just for this event. The fans had come all the way out to see the race and understood cycling and the racers and were crazy enthusaistic, finally I began to feel inspired.


(Pro Tour teams coming to sweep up the break)

Things began to get exiting as Discovery hit the gas to put thier most ideal winner Beppu San into position. They brought the break down from 2:20 to 20 in one lap. Then the other Pro Tour teams joined in to finish the job on the following lap. Recardo Ricco on the Saundier team started to take charge and make life hard on the young Japanese champ. Then on the ninth lap he lowered the boom and flew up the climb, my jaw dropped at the speed, a Skil Shimano rider was in tow and hanging on for dear life. Discoveries Gusev and Devolder left Beppu behind to chase and get Discoveries rightful victory.


(Fukiyumi Beppu helping to lead the charge on one lap)


(Getting dropped on the next lap)

Kishi and I headed back down the road and were stopped by some of Kishi's friends and local Tokyo riders. They offered us some wine Kishi San introduced me. Several of them mentioned that there's a foriegner in Tokyo that rides really fast around the Imperial Palace. Kishi san pointed at me and said "it's HIM!" It turns out that I am imfamous for my morning maniac rides, selling the bikes were the last thing on my mind when I heard that. We continued down the mountain with my head in the clouds back to the finish line to hope for the elusive Japanese victory that has only happened once before in the races 15 year history.


(The agony of the blur. A blurring cyclist dying on the ninth lap, the sag wagons not far behind).

Ricco pulled off a well deserved victory with his best Bettini imitation. Discovery took third and fouth to save some honor and some Lampre rider got second. The pro tour riders got their UCI points, Koji got his mountain jersey, I got some inspiration and everyone went home happy. Thanks for reading.

4AM, I'm sitting at home jet lagged.

I thought this may be a good time to post my Summer cycle-blog adventures, in hopes that I'll either get inspired or finally go to sleep.
Well, it was a great Summer to ride. I missed all the heat wave, and got in some fantastic hours on the bike.
I started out in Southern California, riding with the Amgen club. I was up and ready on the first day of my holiday and did the Sunday morning ride that featured the long steady climb of Puima road. Climbing is not a regular training routine for me and I was really sore after the ride. I really overdid it with my first day enthusiasm and was cramping at the lunch table and later in the swimming pool.
Two days later I was at it again with Amgen. This time it was their "Tuesday night world championship", ride. We went up the very steep and difficult Westlake blvd as I chased two guys off the front up and then along the winding Muhulland highway. After regrouping we did another steep one; Ensinal canyon, which I was dangling off the back. Down again and on to rollers I found my flat-lander speed and chased down everyone off the front with a happy rider in tow. A really tough work out that left my legs all goose pimple-ly in the evening heat. Strangely, I got an earful about being too stong in my rotation from the woman's masters state champ. I don't really get these "race speed", training rides when you get told off for going too fast. But she was diplomatic about it and I have to respect the jersey of state champ. Perhaps my pacelining does suck, it seems to be a complaint I hear since I moved out to Japan. Maybe too much time riding solo.

(From the top of Mt. Tam)
That Thursday I shuttled with bike in tow up to San Francisco. On Friday evening I stayed at my friend Markus place. On Saturday we went to Fort Ord near Monterey for some punishment on a very hilly course. The Elite district championships were being run that day so the course was set as very difficult. As we were warming up a spoke broke on my wheel. I couldn't just change wheels because I'm still using the archaic nine speed instead of ten speeds. We found a team mate, Andrew, who had a spare wheel and a chain whip. We quickly put on my nine speed sproket to his spare wheel and Markus and I got to the staging point. Twenty minutes into the race I flatted. Off went the group without even a chance to test my mettle. The elite group was coming the other way and a follow vehicle lent me a wheel. It was ten speed which made my chain jump like crazy, but good enough to get me back to the staging area, however I was out of the race. Next lap around the follow vehicle traded back my flatted, borrowed wheel, and so I sat in the feed zone with nothing to do. Then a nice bloke offered me a spare innertube, so at least I could go riding around while I waited for Markus to finish. I went away from the course exploring other parts of Fort Ord. As I was out at the farthest edge, the innertube busted yet again. I began to walk back to the staging area but I had to remove my shoes so I didn't mess up my archillies tendon. I walked barefoot for four miles with my flatted bike, along the way I guy with a van pulled up and asked me if I needed help getting back in the race. I told him I was already out of the race and just flatted again. He said he didn't want to help me in that case a drove off leaving me with another half hour of barefoot walking. After I got back to the staging area Markus finished and we returned north.

(Me, on top of Mt. Tam, man... this sure ain't Tokyo)
The following day my Pacifica friend Geo and I left early morning for a long scenic ride wich didn't dissapoint. The weather was perfect and we made a steady pace north over the Golden Gate bridge and into Marin county. Upon entering Mill Valley, Geo took me onto some winding beautiful residential streets that started to climb. The climbing didn't stop as the road left the residential area and entered a forested state park. We just kept climing steadly and the view to our left showed the ocean as we would occasionally emerge from pine forsests. A few more kilometers of climbing brought us up to the highest point on paved road of Mount Tam. The view was beyond perfect. We posed for photos, ate power bars and began our decent inland towards Fairfax. Geo led the way down winding choppy road to a picturesque reservior and wide open decents through grassy fields at high speed and intesity. We flew down into Farefax and stopped for coffee before returning. A perfect day on the bikes was topped off with Geo's favorite post ride drink Anchor Steam Beer with Coca Cola mixed in. Ahhh.... that's the ticket. We relaxed contented, with the sounds of the ocean waves crashing in the distance.

(Geo and I with a poor cell phone camera photo)
That week I was conscious that the coming Saturday I was slated to do another race. And what better way to prepare than the imfamous Tuesday night Peninsula Velo ride. Geo and I left in the late afternoon out of Pacifica and south towards San Mateo's Canada road where a group of riders was gathering for a serious work out. We did our steady pace out to Palo Alto where the first hill came and the strong dudes started to blow things up. I was following wheels well as we plunged down towards Stanford University. I shared a few pulls off the front with Harlan, a really strong local rider that was at the previous weeks race. Harlan called out that he was letting off the gas. I wanted to get a hard workout to make up for Saturday's no-ride so I plowed ahead solo to see how long I could stay off the front. A sharp right and away from the University on old familiar roads from my riding days in California. I threw it down as hard as I could muster than tried to hold it over long rollers. I was running out of steam but remarkably as I looked back no one was behind. Was I that strong? I crested the top at the first sprint point alone with no sight of the group behind. My cell phone started ringing. I got paranoid about stopping in the belief that if I answered the phone the group would come from behind and fly by me, leaving me to chase off the back. I plowed on alone making a good pace, but nothing like the speed the group should be carrying, yet no one behind... what's going on? Finally I checked my phone. It was Geo, he left a message telling me that almost at the exact moment I took off there was a crash behind and the whole group stopped. In fact it was a mutual friend of ours, Whitney, that took the spill. Geo waited until Whitney's wife showed to bring him home and I waited in at an interection for what seemed an eternity, as the group rolled by and the sun began to sink. Geo eventually showed up but was out of steam. I was feeling anxious to get back before it was dark, but Geo seemed casual about the whole thing. Finally, on the last strech to Pacifica Geo found his legs and set a determined strong pace. A former state time trial champ, when he gets in his zone you just gotta sit back and let him do his thing. Unfortuantately it was already dark when we got to Sharp Park, the winding decent into Pacifica. Squinting under steet lights. Quite unnerving but safe enough to get us back.

(The start of Canada Road is a great meeting place for cyclists)
Thursday night I left Pacifica alone and brought a light set with me. I took my time getting to Canada road for another evening training ride. Thursday's are hard but not as notorious as the Tuesday nights. I just wanted to ride withought straining too much. I met Markus and Fred Stramm Sr. but that was it, just the three of us. We were just cruising out when Cristine Thorburn, one of America's top women road bike racers on her time trial bike came blowing by us in the tail wind doing well over fifty kph. Markus looked at me and said, "that's not right". I wasn't sure if it was a comment that a woman shouldn't be able to blow by guys like that or that a solo rider shouldn't be able to rip us so hard. In any case a chase ensued. My flat-lander-big-gear style seemed to be keeping us close but we couldn't close the gap. We came up on a triathlete motor training behind a scooter. We jumed on but it still didn't bring us closer. We were flying and doing way to much work for a couple of dudes with a Saturday race approaching, furthermore we never caught her. We re-grouped and did a shortened return loop, after that I got back to Pacifica with no dramas.

(The road to the left starts out right next to where I used to live, if you think that's nice it's nothing compaired to some of the roads available on the SF peninsula, a real cycling heaven)
Saturday was Patterson Pass, formerly Coral Hollow. I had done the race a couple times before and knew about the course; a serious exposed fifteen hundred foot climb, a series of "break away" encouraging hills, a crazy fast tail wind flat section leading to a hill, decent, flat finish... all exposed to the inland August heat. It's arguably the toughest course on the calendar. I took second in the race many years ago as a beginner but was relegated to seventh as I shouted a celebretory "FUCK!" as I crossed the line. I couldn't do Markus's higher level race, but could do another open division that would most likely pair us up. On the other hand that was three laps and I could also do the two lap race. Cosidering my climbing form I decided two laps was all I could take without being diminished to a quivering mass. So I opted for the lower division race. Sure enough after some early escapes an important two man attack developed on the "break away", section. I was coming up to them when I lost my nerve. I dropped back to a four man chase group but we didn't take hard enough pulls and ended up fighting it out for fifth. I found it easy to controll the sprint as we let the hero of our group take fifth honors and I put my team mate in sixth, I took seventh out of fourty riders. Not a bad experience and I was relieved that I didn't do the three lap as best case scenerio would have just been finishing on my hands and knees.

(Geo and his girlfriend Louise near Geo's home in Pacifica. You can hear the waves crashing from his house. I was a perfect night to end a perfect week and a half in the Bay area.)
Anyway, the next morning Geo and I push off south from Pacifica. Were both pretty tired as we went to a concert the night before and didn't get to bed until 2pm. We slogged up highway ninety two and rode skyline road with simultaneous views of the bay and the ocean keeping us inspired. We managed to get south for quite a distance, to Page Mill road, one of the toughest ascents and descents in the bay area. Like our previous Mount Tam ride Geo again put the hammer down downhill with me in pursuit. The previous day's race more than anything we had done that day was beginning to cause all sorts of havoc on my poor flatlander back and haunches. I was sore to the point of sciatic aggravaition, a burning aching feeling down my leg to my foot. I thought of letting up knowing that Geo would find a spot to wait for me, but a solgered on and we eventually leveled off. After a satisfying lunch under idyllic skies, we left Los Altos hills, one of the wealthiest cities in America, and paced ourselves all the way back to Pacifica. That night after a good bye barbeque at Geo's place we lost all our steam and called it a night.

(Henry at circle x ranch on Yerba Buena road. It was freakin hot and freakin beautiful there.)
The next day I shuttled back to LA. I didn't really have a competitive agenda in mind, but Amgen was always up to something and there was sure to be some good riding in store. I tried to get back into riding but it took a few days to get motivated. On Thursday morning I met up with my So Cal buddy Henry for a long endurance ride and talk. The first two hours was much more talking than riding as both of us suffered from flats and malfuntioning innertubes. After fixing our mechanical problems we headed towards PCH, highway one and went inland on a long hot climb called Yerba Buena road.
Henry seemed to have the stifling heat and steady climbing pace mastered and I just tried to match him and keep some semblance of a conversation going. As we ascended stunning sage speckled hills I was beginning to realize that I was really toasted from the previous week. However, Henry kept my spirits up and we stopped along the way at the circle K ranch for photos before working our way towards Westlake Village and home base for me. That Friday and Saturday I went to see friends in Santa Barbara, wisely shelving the bike away.

(Innertube purcase at a local bike shop saved our ride from disaster.)
The Sunday Amgen ride proved to be a cruise through the orchards of Ventura County. Some fast flat pacelining and churning up some small climbs in a non-competitive fasion, not bad. One of the riders worked as an assistant for the Amgen tour of California supporting the Pro Bike team Davitamon Lotto. He told some funny stories about the riders and what they did daily.
I went out on Tuesday in the late afternoon to ride around and the show up for another installment of the "Tuesday Night World Championships". It was a scorcher, the kind of weather that makes the body work double hard on the climbs. I did a large hilly loop and then was heading back to meet the group when another group came by from a different direction, putting the hammer down. I did a U-turn and joined in. They were another bunch of Amgen riders who were going to do a tough little climb called "rock store", which is in fact part of Muhulland Highway. I was suprised anyone would want to go hard up a climb in this sort of weather, but held on to see what would happen. It was a fast climb and after regrouping they played attack/ chase over the hills and decent back to Westlake. I tough work out that left me feeling sapped.

Wednesday morning I got up and did a route that I did last year with two other riders. I remember that ride well because it was one of those days were I just felt like I could do anything on a bike. Sure enough it was a repeat but this time solo. I just stormed along everywhere and finished way earlier than I anticipated. I got back so early I did a lap around the lake of Westlake just to pad my kilometers, when I flatted, then I started to bonk while I was repairing the tire. All about half a mile from my destination. I straggled back in a daze with a half filled tire, then ate everything that existed in the house.
Thursday night I decided to go to the Camarillo weekly Thursday night crit. Another Amgen event that had a closed course with premes. I was on the fence about going but finally got amped and half out the door when my Mom came in and suggested dinner by the beach. I got flustered, then I got changed and went to the to eat with her.
Friday morning would be my last ride of the vacation. I was riding toward the "Rock Store", climb when a group came blazing by in the same direction. I jumed on and was immidiately welcomed by one of the riders. He said the ride is called "Fast Fridays", a weekly informal race series that featured a points system and jerseys for best climber and sprinter. There were about twenty five riders participating and the pace was up, looked like I would have a chance to make up for missing that Crit. I was timid going into the climb and at the back of the pack in the knowledge that I had a big ride planned after this Fast Friday ride was done. But as the group streched out in the cool sage morning I could see my mistake; my legs were great, my best climbing form had finally come around on my last day. I started to close gaps up to the leader who was flying, but I was hammering too. Though I was closing in I still wasn't confident about pushing it over the red line, instead I yelled out "I'm coming for you! I'm coming for you boy!!". Just my sence of humor... Anyway I'm not sure if I would have ever closed in enough to sprint him, but I never found out because he crossed the double yellow line on a hair-pin just to stay ahead, what a jip! I yelled out "WHAT?? I'm telling the UCI on you!" But he just kept hammering and stayed away at the top, on the right side by that point... At the top I said goodbye to the Fast Friday crew and continued on my own. My legs were still great like the day before but this time no flat and no bonk. My last climb up Muhulland from the coast I was just a machine. A great way to end another great Summer cycling adventure in California.
Thanks for reading.

It IS about the bike after all.

I really wanted black. I told Yama San BLACK, basic, boring, rugged, simple black. Somewhere there was a miscommunication. Hey it's a Bianchi, the painter was most likely thinking. It's a Freakin BIANCHI and it's going to be Freakin Celest. So, there it is, my old 1998 mega pro chromoly bianchi, in beatiful radiant celest and chrome.



My yearly Summer voyage to California is never complete without my bicycle. And I have brought it using a bulky heavy suitcase for the last three years. It has caused me to miss out bringing a big care package of American goodies back with me to Tokyo. It has caused massive problems at the LAX security check. It seemed reasonable to get a second bike to ride when I am in America. But it should be cheap, nice, fit me and be ready to ride right away. My old steel frame was spending it's last years hooked up to the trainer, corroding. I decided that refurbishing the old frame and rebuilding it was the best way to meet my requirments. Here's a rundown



First of all before painting Yama San and I discovered ten cenitmeters of sweet shiny chrome on the stays, so we asked the painter to keep those. Anyway, it's a nine speed with a chorus derailure, and a shimano cassette. The 105 crank is a new purchase for the bike. The old crank had to be violently removed to get to the BB so it was ruined. I added some dura ace chainrings I already owned because I had read that the only difference between 105 and Ultegra are the chainrings. Open pro Dura Ace wheel with 14 guage. Front derailure is (gulp) suntour supurbe pro. Brakes are new 105.



Shifters say Veloce but the guts were replaced with Record, very nice stealthy and quiet. The stem and seatpost say "dixna", they are in fact Richey Pro, nice Taiwanese aluminum stuff. Same thing for the bars that say "Scott anatomic", exactly the same as Ritchy Pro. Fork is a kestral ems with chromo steerer. My first test was in the rain but the bike seems fine and fits me as well as it always has, it's weight is almost exactly 20 lbs. The final cost came out to about 900 bucks American.
I'll be in California the whole month of August, I will be in the LA area and the SF area, I will definitely be looking for friends to ride, race and tour with. Thanks for reading.

By the way, the bike suitcase is really nice. It's just that getting it through LAX was tough. But if you really must travel long distance with the bike it's the only affordable way to insure not getting your bike screwed up. Which leads to the next point, I planning on either trading or selling the suitcase for rockbottom price, let me know if interested and I'll send more details.

Tour of Japan/ Oi Futo stage.



Oi Futo is a wharf area along Tokyo Bay in Shinagawa. Every year the Tour of Japan comes out and does this flat circuit to end their five day stage race. Nikkan sports holds an amateur race around the same course before the pros come and rip it up. If you have been following the ranting reports over the last few years you'll know that Oi is also one of my main training areas as it is only 45 minute ride from my home. However, I've never done this race before.

A few background things:
1. There is only one age classification race, it's for 50 years or older. There is one woman's category.
2. There are only two skill level races, one is for class B and C level; a 21km course and the other is for class A and S level; a 35 km course.
3. Entry fee is 6000yen
4. The course is not actually closed down until the last moment, so while warming up there are security everywhere enforcing the stop lights. In fact on a normal Sunday no one attends to the lights at Oi Futo.
5. It had rained almost every day for the last few weeks but race day was perfect weather.
6. The course is totally flat 6 point something kilometers and odd shaped. There's and out and back section with the start finish line, and a rectangular office park section. Our total distance worked out to five laps.


Seventy year old Suzuki San (in pink) doing the 50+ category race.

So I got up early and rode out to Shinagawa. When I got there I met my Japanese cycle club leader, Yama San at the parking lot. He brought his van and his wife and baby. He was puffing on a Mild Seven at the reg counter, so I knew he was not serious about the race, but being a local bike fixture and shop owner it was a good choice to show up and do the race anyhow. As for me, I was phyched to go hard and get in the fray. However, my previous experiences racing in Japan had been mild disasters, I was tense and uncertain of my ability but smiling.

I warmed up and got an early poll position. I was doing the "A" class race, though they mated us with the "S" class. I'm not sure how to translate that into US cycling terms for you, but it's a kind of general mid to high level amateur classes. On thing is that "S" class needs a license and can do some of the pro domestic races as pack filler, like the Tour of Hokkaido. The field size showed 80 riders.




Okay, were off. I immediately loose some spots. We hit a hairpin and come back down the same road. I start moving back up the field to a decent position to see what's going on. We were in a tail wind section and just jockeying around then the road swept right and they squeeze us into one lane, that totally sucked. Then we came right and rode a rectangle around a business park, then left back out and into a head wind straight away. I could see there were three dudes from the same team off the front already. They were from the Narishima team that was very well represented. They were just hanging out there so no one reacted. Then we hit the hair pin into the tail wind. I was in good position and no stress. A rider from another well repusented team made a bridging up move, and I thought it could be a good early break away scenario so I latched on. As soon as we joined up to the three breakaways from the same team they all pulled the plug along with the rider that bridged up. I was isolated out in front on only the second lap. So I did what I always do when I'm feeling good, I just kept my tempo. I got really far off the front. After about 3 kilometers the pack moved up and held me at about three hundred meters. I was having fun waving to the crowd and the video cameras, putting on a show A-la Bob Gardali. In hind sight this may have been my chance do just do a big TT like I do when I'm training, but I didn't know the ability of these riders and figured they could sweep me up at will. My cycling buddy Derrek mentioned something about letting yourself get caught and attacking again really hard as a good way to escape, so I pulled the plug and waited until a later opportunity. The third lap was uneventful.




The fourth lap again out of the hairpin into the tail wind an attack from a well represented club. A teammate was coming to join so again I reckoned this may be a chance. The team mate that bridged up was a monster, he was flying and accelerating really hard. It was most likely the right thing to do, but I'm a smooth tempo guy and was just getting blasted. The three of us flew past the reminents of another failed break away that I hadn't seen up the road. A rider from that break latched on so there were four of us. We were not doing so well and I realized for the first time that I was hurting. Coming out of the office park we were getting organized and yelling encouragement to each other. I had to admit I was not contributing how I wanted to and into the head wind I was losing hope in this break as well. To complicate matters we caught the 50+ age group right as they were sprinting for the end of their race. The marshals had us pull over left while the peleton took the draft from the back of the sprinting riders and caught us. Game over again and on to lap five. I was content that I had done some great work and was losing intensity as the pack was gaining it, translation; I was slipping towards to back. I realized it eventually and started moving up again, but it was gut check time and I was just too content with my performance already, so I just sat mid pack and focused on my safety. As the opportunities to try one last move faded I decided there was no reason to play the field sprint and just got far over and did my own acceleration on the left. It turned out to be the right tactic as riders who tried to do something from far back crashed spectacularly with each other. I had to brake and my bike shimmied again (read last blog entry) but I held it, re-accelerated and finished 38th place. It was fun. I recovered some confidence and am looking forward to doing something special at Oi next year.
Thanks for reading.
Thanks, Kishi San, for the photos.