photo credit: http://www.veronikalenzi.com/index.html
VPJ2: Why what?
VPJ1: Why are you here today? Racing? Why all this pain and suffering for well, to put it rather bluntly – for mediocre results.
VPJ2: Hmmm. That’s a good one. I guess I am here to fulfill my dreams. This ride - this race, or whatever you call it is the stuff of my dreams - not the “I wish upon a star” type dream and certainly not the “what I dream of as I lay my head down on the pillow at night” type dream. Rather, this ride is the stuff of my daydreams – the “at the office typing on the keyboard and looking out the window” type dreams. Out here I get to leave my day job and live my daydream. Out here I am a bike racer.
VPJ1: I’ve heard that inside each “racer” there is a little something (a voice? a little “sumpin sumpin” if you would) that tells you that you could win. And I mean win - actually come in 1st place. Is there a little “sumpin sumpin” in you?
VPJ2: Yes and no. Sure I thought about crossing the line No. 1, but the sight of 150 other racers pulling away quickly squashed any little something I may have had. However, that squashed something is not what’s important; rather what remains after the squash – that wishy goo, smashed up and crumbled “sumpin sumpin” is what’s important to me. That “sumpin sumpin” I do have.
VPJ1: What does the post squashed sumpin tell you?
VPJ2: For starters, it tells me I am not going to win –let’s be real - so don’t even bother. But then the sumpin goes on, suggesting that I could place in the top half. Wow, better than half the racers out here, now that would be sumpin. Sumpin also tells me that I could look respectable, ride in a pack, take turns pulling a pace line, and descend in an aerodynamic position. Basically I want to fit in. I want to be considered a rider. A racer.
***
VPJ1: “Turkeys!” [hand raised, pointing to the far ridge]
VPJ1: Whoa – wild turkeys. Did you see that?
VPJ2: Sure did. In college I use to drink wild turkey, and up until recently I would drink it at Thanksgiving.
VPJ1: What made you stop?
VPJ2: I think it was the taste, or that I no longer fit into the silly costumes I would don on after the 8th or 9th shot. Nothing like waltzing around the holidays in an ill fitting costume to make one swear off the Turkey. Now where were we – back to racing?
***
VPJ1: Ah yes – racing. You took that descent like a pro, how fast do you think you were going downhill?
VPJ2: Yeah, thanks for noticing my mad skills. I think I was going at least 40+ mph.
VPJ1: Wow, that’s faster than the devil’s number [the speed in kilometers one can obtain when traveling down a very straight hill in Tuscany.]
VPJ2: Yeah, you bet. I am not good with converting miles to km numbers but I’ll give it a try to take my mind off the pace and pain … Let’s see 3.5 = 5, and if I multiply by 40 and … uhhh … carry the 3? … ohhh, I think I may have a cramp coming on. Change subject please.
VPJ1: Ok, Ok … How did you find this group of riders on Hwy 1?
VPJ2: Not sure you can say I “found them.” More like they were here and I am here. So we are here together until they drop me ...
VPJ2: Ahhh, a new group! We are working together until they drop me. And now I am on my own, fighting for the scraps again – fighting for the nubbins.
VPJ1: Don’t get so down, you must have made some friends along the way. Did you talk to anyone?
VPJ2: Sometimes. For example, one person commented that I did a good pull. That felt good. There was also a time when we talked about going counterclockwise in the rotation. That was useful. Another racer indicated that beside water in his bag he had brought a ray gun on this adventure series. Hmmm, a ray gun? I guess it makes sense.
VPJ1: If it makes sense, why didn’t you stay with them?
VPJ2: Just didn’t. No more groups; just stragglers like me. Stragglers, gagglers and bragglers.
VPJ1: What is a gaggler?
VPJ2: Someone who may throw up.
VPJ1: I see, and what is a braggler?
VPJ2: Someone who may throw up but still pulls hard in the front to show he is not weak. So he can tell his friends he is not weak but strong.
VPJ1: Are you weak?
VPJ2: No.
***
***
****
KD: “What’s your name?”
VPJ2: “Jeremiah Johnson”
KD: “Good job Jeremiah”
VPJ1&2: Thanks.
[A Conversation]
From a conversation between Vertical Panda team member Jeremiah (VPJ1) and himself (VPJ2) during a March 7, 2009 “training ride.” This ride, Grasshopper No. 2 - Chileno Valley, was part of the Grasshopper Adventure Series, a noncompetive bicycle race similar to jumbo shrimp. The ride is about 65 miles with 5000+ feet of climbing starting from Occidental, CA. The ride attracts racers of every ilk including members of the pro peloton, Cat 1-4s, Cyclocross A,B &Cs and general all around NorCal hard men and women. This year (and last year) winner was Levi Liepheimer of Team Astana. Unless in quotes, the conversation occurred exclusively in Jeremiah’s head during the ride. KD is the “official” time keep and a race organizer extraordinaire.
VPJ1: You recently placed 73rd in the overall standings of the Bay Area Super Prestige cyclocross series and a top 98th finish at Old Caz. So I guess my question to you is why?From a conversation between Vertical Panda team member Jeremiah (VPJ1) and himself (VPJ2) during a March 7, 2009 “training ride.” This ride, Grasshopper No. 2 - Chileno Valley, was part of the Grasshopper Adventure Series, a noncompetive bicycle race similar to jumbo shrimp. The ride is about 65 miles with 5000+ feet of climbing starting from Occidental, CA. The ride attracts racers of every ilk including members of the pro peloton, Cat 1-4s, Cyclocross A,B &Cs and general all around NorCal hard men and women. This year (and last year) winner was Levi Liepheimer of Team Astana. Unless in quotes, the conversation occurred exclusively in Jeremiah’s head during the ride. KD is the “official” time keep and a race organizer extraordinaire.
VPJ2: Why what?
VPJ1: Why are you here today? Racing? Why all this pain and suffering for well, to put it rather bluntly – for mediocre results.
VPJ2: Hmmm. That’s a good one. I guess I am here to fulfill my dreams. This ride - this race, or whatever you call it is the stuff of my dreams - not the “I wish upon a star” type dream and certainly not the “what I dream of as I lay my head down on the pillow at night” type dream. Rather, this ride is the stuff of my daydreams – the “at the office typing on the keyboard and looking out the window” type dreams. Out here I get to leave my day job and live my daydream. Out here I am a bike racer.
VPJ1: I’ve heard that inside each “racer” there is a little something (a voice? a little “sumpin sumpin” if you would) that tells you that you could win. And I mean win - actually come in 1st place. Is there a little “sumpin sumpin” in you?
VPJ2: Yes and no. Sure I thought about crossing the line No. 1, but the sight of 150 other racers pulling away quickly squashed any little something I may have had. However, that squashed something is not what’s important; rather what remains after the squash – that wishy goo, smashed up and crumbled “sumpin sumpin” is what’s important to me. That “sumpin sumpin” I do have.
VPJ1: What does the post squashed sumpin tell you?
VPJ2: For starters, it tells me I am not going to win –let’s be real - so don’t even bother. But then the sumpin goes on, suggesting that I could place in the top half. Wow, better than half the racers out here, now that would be sumpin. Sumpin also tells me that I could look respectable, ride in a pack, take turns pulling a pace line, and descend in an aerodynamic position. Basically I want to fit in. I want to be considered a rider. A racer.
***
VPJ1: “Turkeys!” [hand raised, pointing to the far ridge]
VPJ1: Whoa – wild turkeys. Did you see that?
VPJ2: Sure did. In college I use to drink wild turkey, and up until recently I would drink it at Thanksgiving.
VPJ1: What made you stop?
VPJ2: I think it was the taste, or that I no longer fit into the silly costumes I would don on after the 8th or 9th shot. Nothing like waltzing around the holidays in an ill fitting costume to make one swear off the Turkey. Now where were we – back to racing?
***
VPJ1: Ah yes – racing. You took that descent like a pro, how fast do you think you were going downhill?
VPJ2: Yeah, thanks for noticing my mad skills. I think I was going at least 40+ mph.
VPJ1: Wow, that’s faster than the devil’s number [the speed in kilometers one can obtain when traveling down a very straight hill in Tuscany.]
VPJ2: Yeah, you bet. I am not good with converting miles to km numbers but I’ll give it a try to take my mind off the pace and pain … Let’s see 3.5 = 5, and if I multiply by 40 and … uhhh … carry the 3? … ohhh, I think I may have a cramp coming on. Change subject please.
VPJ1: Ok, Ok … How did you find this group of riders on Hwy 1?
VPJ2: Not sure you can say I “found them.” More like they were here and I am here. So we are here together until they drop me ...
VPJ2: Ahhh, a new group! We are working together until they drop me. And now I am on my own, fighting for the scraps again – fighting for the nubbins.
VPJ1: Don’t get so down, you must have made some friends along the way. Did you talk to anyone?
VPJ2: Sometimes. For example, one person commented that I did a good pull. That felt good. There was also a time when we talked about going counterclockwise in the rotation. That was useful. Another racer indicated that beside water in his bag he had brought a ray gun on this adventure series. Hmmm, a ray gun? I guess it makes sense.
VPJ1: If it makes sense, why didn’t you stay with them?
VPJ2: Just didn’t. No more groups; just stragglers like me. Stragglers, gagglers and bragglers.
VPJ1: What is a gaggler?
VPJ2: Someone who may throw up.
VPJ1: I see, and what is a braggler?
VPJ2: Someone who may throw up but still pulls hard in the front to show he is not weak. So he can tell his friends he is not weak but strong.
VPJ1: Are you weak?
VPJ2: No.
***
VPJ1: Let’s play a little word association – Marshall Climb.
VPJ2: Courage!
VPJ1: Wilson Hill.
VPJ2: Nice cowbells, whoop whoop!!!!
VPJ1: Muur de Carmody.
VPJ2: Steep. Can we get off the climbing stuff?
VPJ1: OK, lets see here – how do you feel about headwinds?
VPJ2: Am I pulling?
VPJ1: Yes.
VPJ2: Uhhnhnhn … I think I want to get back to climbing.
VPJ1: Come now, really? This is not that bad.
VPJ2: OK – then you get up here and pull.
VPJ1: Fine, fine – back to climbing.
VPJ2: Courage!
VPJ1: Wilson Hill.
VPJ2: Nice cowbells, whoop whoop!!!!
VPJ1: Muur de Carmody.
VPJ2: Steep. Can we get off the climbing stuff?
VPJ1: OK, lets see here – how do you feel about headwinds?
VPJ2: Am I pulling?
VPJ1: Yes.
VPJ2: Uhhnhnhn … I think I want to get back to climbing.
VPJ1: Come now, really? This is not that bad.
VPJ2: OK – then you get up here and pull.
VPJ1: Fine, fine – back to climbing.
***
VPJ1: Leading up to the Burnside Burn, you seemed to be taking it easy. Almost enjoying yourself. What gives?
VPJ2: I knew the flat road of Bloomfield was a perfect place for eating and resting up a little before the Burnside Burn. Although it may have seemed that I am taking it easy, I am in the big chain ring. Oh yeah! Big man in the big chain ring! How you like me now?
VPJ1: Not for long though?
VPJ2: No, not for long – the big chain ring is for people that can best be described as monsters. They don’t just ride their bikes, they mash them. They dominate. The big chain ring is for big Belgium, freaky type stuff. Me, I struggle.
VPJ1: Speaking of freaky stuff, you must have seen some freaky stuff on Burnside.
VPJ2: Oh yeah – Freakshow! For starters, racers zig zagging across the road to cut the steepness. Another rider fell completely over with his legs in the air forming a “V”. Normally I would ask a rider who is down if they are OK and if they have everything they need – but I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t know what to say to this chap so I said nothing. I passed by, pushed a little air out between my lips and gave a grin to say yeah I’m with ya and I know its bad, but just a little more pain and then it will all be over.
VPJ2: I knew the flat road of Bloomfield was a perfect place for eating and resting up a little before the Burnside Burn. Although it may have seemed that I am taking it easy, I am in the big chain ring. Oh yeah! Big man in the big chain ring! How you like me now?
VPJ1: Not for long though?
VPJ2: No, not for long – the big chain ring is for people that can best be described as monsters. They don’t just ride their bikes, they mash them. They dominate. The big chain ring is for big Belgium, freaky type stuff. Me, I struggle.
VPJ1: Speaking of freaky stuff, you must have seen some freaky stuff on Burnside.
VPJ2: Oh yeah – Freakshow! For starters, racers zig zagging across the road to cut the steepness. Another rider fell completely over with his legs in the air forming a “V”. Normally I would ask a rider who is down if they are OK and if they have everything they need – but I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t know what to say to this chap so I said nothing. I passed by, pushed a little air out between my lips and gave a grin to say yeah I’m with ya and I know its bad, but just a little more pain and then it will all be over.
****
[Cresting Burnside, Jeremiah hits devil speed again into Freestone. He motors on pass the girls selling lemonade and cookies and sees the sign indicating the start of the final climb of the day. He smiles, he begins to sing out loud to the tune “We’re on the Way to Pienza.”]
VPJ2: “Cyco-camp! We’re all going Cyco-camp! Lalala, Hahaha!”
“Let’s all go to Cyco-camp!”
VPJ1: Up there, a clearing do you see it?
VPJ2: Where?
VPJ1: Up there, around the bend.
VPJ2: Yes, I see it.
VPJ1: Go…
VPJ2: Go…
VPJ1: Go …
VPJ2: Stop!
VPJ2: “Cyco-camp! We’re all going Cyco-camp! Lalala, Hahaha!”
“Let’s all go to Cyco-camp!”
VPJ1: Up there, a clearing do you see it?
VPJ2: Where?
VPJ1: Up there, around the bend.
VPJ2: Yes, I see it.
VPJ1: Go…
VPJ2: Go…
VPJ1: Go …
VPJ2: Stop!
KD: “What’s your name?”
VPJ2: “Jeremiah Johnson”
KD: “Good job Jeremiah”
VPJ1&2: Thanks.