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Really funny stories from the rec.bicycles.racing newsgroup.
>Another funky post:
>What's the dumbest thing you ever did in a race? Here's your chance to
>spill
>your guts. T
Sometime in the late eighties, as a cat 4 "A" track racer, I heard someone jokingly tell me that you can yell at an opponent in a race to startle them and
give you a better chance. So, like a naiive 18 year old prick, I tried it. This tall, dorky looking fella riding in a T-shirt, Bailen helmet and Reebok
sneakers was making me really nervous with his visibly loose toestraps and untrue wheels, not to mention his bumping his elbows into me (it was a 20 lap
points race), so I got next to him and screamed at the top of my lungs. Sure enough, he dropped back in the field. I placed second, but not before he
angrily pulled up next to me in the final lap and screamed at me before falling
back, totally out of suds. I felt pretty stupid. In fact, I don't think I showed up for several weeks after that. Never saw him again. If you're reading
this, I apologize...but I sure hope you got your sh*t together with your equipment, whoever you were.
Hows that for Primal Scream Therapy?
Mark
alright, I'll admit to the stupidest thing I ever did in a race. It happened just last spring at the Boston University Road Race.
I rode in the 'C' race which was about 40 miles as I recall. As a
trackie, and someone who is perpetually undertrained, I was dropped early on, but continued to ride as long as they would permit me to (a practice I
heartily recommend, by the way). So I was well off the back on this circuit course, riding a hard tempo for training, and generally enjoying
it in spite of being so out of contention. I could feel I was getting
good miles. I was also pleased that I was going to finish without getting lapped or pulled.
Now, I need to let you know that I almost never crash, and pride myself on that......
About 7 miles from the finish, I am rolling fast (50 mph, no exag.) down a long, shady road. Because I have been alone for so long, I have had ample
time to notice all kinds of things, including the fact that the QR adjuster on my front hub is sticking out, instead of being folded in. It
is really kind of bothering me, cause I am OCD (obsessive-compulsive). I decide to reach down and fold it flat.
I don't know if I hit a hole or what, but I did a spectacular flip onto the road. My bike disappeared. The ambulance folks put a neck brace on
me, even though I was OK. In fact, I didn't even tear my clothes, but I did crack my Bell...!
The bottom line is, I flipped spectacularly, broke the forks on my bike, scratched up my nice levers and saddle, and took an expensive ride to the
hospital, for no reason whatsoever. Many thanks to the BU riders who were kind enough to find my bike later and return it to me the next day.
Someday maybe I'll tell you the dumbest thing I ever did in a XC ski race.
-CM
Christopher Moyer
One of the kids I was racing with and giving rides to told me about how you could hock a lugie to get someone off of your wheel. I'm pretty sure he
tried it in a large stage race we were at and he ended up in the bushes for his efforts.
I know you're reading this M. and I know you missed those guys lining up and crowding you off the course because I was in the follow vehicle watching.
. Let the confessionals begin:
>
>My own most idiotic move:
>In 85 I was racing a Senior 4 crit in Dallas (the Ruffles Tour Races). My
teammate and I had timed our staging perfectly, and despite the huge field were
on the very front, in the middle, at the start line, waiting endlessly for the
officials to start the race.
We decided to lean against each other, and clip both feet in so we could get the hole shot.
Everything was cool, until he slowly started to tip away from me. Big-time
domino effect. Half of the front row, 5-10 guys, were bowled over. The guy
next to my teammate had a huge chainring cut in his knee and was pulled by the
race doctor. Depthless Shame. Unending embarrassment.
For some reason, we weren't lynched. In fact, no one said anything at all to
us. I guess no one noticed that we had started the whole thing. I have no
recollection of the outcome of the race.
So YOU were the one!!!
David Wagner
What's the dumbest thing you ever did in a race? Here's your chance to
spill your guts.
I rode a borrowed 7 speed freewheel disc with my normal 8 speed shifters and derailleurs at the 1994 time trial nationals in Seattle. If adjusted just
right, it would work. I started sprinting down the ramp, shifted my STI and found out it wasn't adjusted just right. The gears skipped, I came out ofthe pedals, the chain jammed and I flipped into a spectacular crash.
So I crash in the first 100 feet of the start on a strait road at the National Championship Time Trial. Even through severe road rash and pain I
felt so, so, so stupid. The only thing that made me feel marginally better was the announcer saying "And that's the THIRD crash out of the ramp we've
had today."
john foster
This is not the stupidest thing I've ever done in a race-- that involved hitting a big dog and knocking the poor creature into a ditch. Other stupid
things happened, like the cops stopping our provincial championships half way through, due to a turf war with another police jurisdiction.
This race sticks in my memory, though. Several stupid things were done, and not just by me.
In my first season road racing I'd trained hard and by August was no longer getting dropped. This was no mean feat, since the womens fields were small--
15 to 25 riders usually-- with no place to hide. I was strong but clueless about tactics. Once I found myself in the lead group of three with no
serious chasers. The course had a single grinder-type hill, and nothing really technical. My two companions were surprised and a little annoyed to
see a relative novice ruining their party. One especially didn't like the way I rode. She cozied up, reached over, grabbed my handlebars briefly
(arghhh!) and sneered, "If I EVER see you at the front I'll take you down!" Managing to stay upright (no commissaire in sight) I dutifully sucked wheel
for the rest of the race. Of course, I was beaten quite easily in the sprint. Miss Manners won. Later I learned that she had suffered miserably
on every lap of the hill. She also had a reputation for that special kind of sprinters' courage in the last 200m of every race. If I could do that
race again, I would have ignored the threat. Had I pushing the pace on the hill we would have dropped her, I'm sure. I still wouldn't have won, but
second place and bragging rights would have been great.
Bev
Early 90's, a cat 3 crit "on the hill" in Boulder CO. The back side of the course was slightly downhill, and the second-to-last right hand
90degree turn was at the bottom of the hill. All day long it felt like the pack was taking it too cautious in the turn, losing a lot of speed.
With a few laps to go, a couple of guys get off the front. Feeling good and a bit cocky I pushed the pace on the backside downhill part,
figuring I can take the turns a wee bit faster and maybe get clear for an easy third place. About halfway into that downhill 90degree turn, I
realize that I'm going too fast. I didn't like the thought of losing skin, so I decide to be tricky and bunny hop the curb onto the
sidewalk. Now the interesting part about this section of the course was that there was a concrete drainage ditch, about three feet wide and at
least as deep, between the sidewalk and the houses. Each house had a small bridge with a handrail of some kind to cross over the drainage
ditch. I cleared the curb ok with my bunny hop, and even managed to avoid hitting a tree that was on the grass median between the curb and
sidewalk. Unfortunately, one of the little bridges had a handrail that was made out of 3" diameter plumbing pipe, and my handlebar caught it
pretty sqaure on. I flew head over heels into the ditch, breaking the cleats on my look pedals (I pulled straight out of the pedals and the
shoes stayed on my feet), and landing on my back in six inches of water. I was lucky in that there was a bit of water in the ditch to
break my fall, and also that I landed in the center of the ditch, and
not on one of the concrete walls, or another bridge just a bit further down (I flew at least 40 feet). I had only a few scratches on my back,
however not only had my handlebar hit the pipe-rail, but my left thigh did too. My leg wasn't broken but it was bruised all to hell and I
couldn't even walk for a week. My bike suffered a bit more, as the rear rim was broken when the bike impacted the far side of the ditch, and the
top tube was bowed; the first 2" of top tube (by the head tube) was literally accordianed by the impact force. The frame was a write-off.
1990 collegiate race in Princeton NJ . A crit in a hotel/shopping complex with many turns, high curbs and many light posts, sign posts, benches and other
obstacles. Dangerous in general, insane in the cold rain on that day. After the women's race that saw one broken leg from hitting a concrete bench, the
men's A race started.
At the end of the start finish straight ( the only straight on the course) you went right around a high curbed round-about. Sitting in the grass in the middle
of the round-about was a old time Western Conestoga Wagon. One of the Carneys
is at the front stringi8ng out the group and there is no passing lap after lap.
On about lap 10 a guy breaks out of line and tries moving up on the left hand side. He makes up about 3 spots, but cant get back in line and the group is
just about at the curb. In complete fear he starts screaming and out of mercy, someone let's him in, just in the nick of time. Next lap, believe it or not,
the guy breaks ranks and tries the same trick. This time, no luck and as they get closer and closer it becomes obvious that noone is letting this guy in. As
wet as it is, there is no way this guy is going to make it and about 15 yards from the curb he makes the decision to forget the race and concentrate on saving
his ass. Up straightens his bike and actually looke dto aim at the curb. As he
got to the curb ( 6 inches high easily) he does a great bunny hop and clears the curb! He is now in the wet grass, full speed and totally out of control.
His barely misses the most obvious obstacle, a light post, and there is a cheer ( sigh of relief?) from the crowd. It proved to be short lived as, just when he
looked to be in the clear, his pedal clips the wagon wheel. He looke dlike one of those NASCAR cars when the get up in the air and start barrel rolling and
desinigrating. Needless to say, the dude was messed up.
Anyway, that was the stupidest move I ever saw.
Here's a couple that I either heard about or witnessed:
Santa Maria crit near SLO in 1988. A cat 3 guy I know got off the front alone. While coming down the start/finish stretch he looked back over
his shoulder he drifted towards the curb and plowed into a trash can, taking himself out of the race.
Redlands stage race criterium in 1987. They didn't get all the cars off the course for this stage. On one particular stretch there was a car on
the left and for some reason the pack always seemed strung out on the left edge of the road. (Perhaps a cross wind, I can't remember.)
Anyway, the pack would ride in the gutter and then quickly scoot over at the last minute to avoid the car. Anybody with half a brain knew what
was coming. Unfortunately, cat 1's and 2's in oxygen debt usually don't fall into that category. One lap, just after I did the car swerve I
heard a horrible sound as somebody behind me plowed into the car at about 30mph. Ouch.
This one I heard about from one of the riders... Bob Roll, Sterling McBride and I believe Andy Paulin were off the front in the road stage
of the Chico RR probably in the mid '80s. Roll was on the front hammering with his head down and not paying enough attention. As the
road turned (and Andy and Sterling also turned behind), Bob rode straight off the road into an orchard. A few minutes later he
apparantly chased back all covered with dirt and a bit cheesed off that they didn't warn him of the turn.
At the San Rafael Subaru Crit in 1989, I had crashed out of the race towards the end and was watching as my team mate follwed Chris Huber as
Huber made his patented 2 laps to go attack. (The scary thing about Huber was that when he was on, you knew he would make that attack, but
hardly anybody in the country could do anything about it. Scary fast.) Anyway, my team mate got on the train and as they approach the s/f line
for the bell, he sprinted for all he was worth and threw up his arms to celebrate the greatest win of his career. He figured it out by the time
he got to the first corner, but it was way too late and neither of them
placed.
Speaking of counting, at Somerville in 1995 after doing the masters race, I watched the 1/2 race. Same story, coming up to the bell, I see
Micheal Buttrey of EDS making a big attack. But halfway down the finish stretch I realize that he's not attacking, he's sprinting for the win.
I can't remember if he got as far as posting his victory salute, but I do remember him coming by one lap later a bit off the back shaking his
head. BTW, that was one of the most insane races I ever saw. With 10 to go people started crashing everywhere. I remember seeing all kinds
of riders riding from turn 1 BACKWARDS down the s/f straight towards the pit in turn 4, right past the officals stand. Christ, you'd get
suspended for life if you did that in Nor-Cal.
This one is on me. During the final criterium of the Vulcan Tour in Redding, CA in 1987 I got off the front for a lap or two. Coming into
the hair pin turn I was getting caught and was going to get absorbed shortly after the hairpin. Of course like a bonehead, I started
pedaling just a bit too soon and dumped it right in front of the whole pack. Not close enough for me to be an obstacle for them, but close
enough for them to get a good look at the idiot who crashed all alone.
Since I am posting:
1999 Peerless RR in Keene NH, Cat 4. About 15 miles in the race enters a section of narrow roads. I move up towards the front, in the first 10 or
so. There is a guy off the front, a little out of sight, so no pace car. We approach an intersection and the marshal is thrusting his arm out to
stop traffic coming from a side road. The guy on the front thinks the marshal is pointing out the route for him, and hammers down this side
road. Like lemmings, the first dozen or so of us follow... and then have to chase back onto the pack, threading around all the cars stopped at
the intersection. Then we have to wiggle our way back to the front.... 1999 Silver City Flyer (a crit) in Taunton MA. My first ever Masters 30+
race. I'd been watching other Masters races earlier in the day, and it seemed like breaks were having good luck that day. About halfway through
the race a half dozen guys get off the front and start working together and get a good gap. Through the S/F Dick Ring comments "the field better
not let _those_ guys get away"; I should have known he was talking smack but I didn't. I go flying out of the field and catch them a mile later.
Just before I catch them, I see the tail guy looking back at me a couple of times. Sure enough, as soon as I catch them they all sit up. It
didn't occur to me until that moment that if I could catch them, so could half the schmucks in the field. Of course, I was toast the rest of
the race. Oh well - this is only my 2nd year.
1999 Fitchburg-Longsjo Classic - Cat 4, 1st stage, the time trial. I'm about 3 guys away from my start. This dude with lots of nice aero
equipment is starting. He mashes his pedals, trying to sprint down the ramp. He's also trying to set up for the right turn following the ramp.
Somehow he works his front wheel over the edge of the ramp and he pitches onto the ground from 3 feet up. Badly hurt, he just lies there,
tangled with his bike. Something dark and liquid appears to be oozing under him (could be just a drink). He's still there as I start. Not a
great way to start a TT - for him or anyone watching.
1999 Fitchburg (notice all the dates are this year?) - Last stage, the crit. The GC leader is an expert mountain biker who really hates crits -
so much so he actually rides at the back, or even off the back! His lead isn't stunning, so my team (NEBC) decides to try a tactic that has
worked well in the past - blast off the front and drive the pace as high as we can for the first third of the race. We are hoping to cause a
split with him behind it. It works great for 2 laps and things are really strung out, and then the guy in front of me rides into the guy in
front of him right after the S/F line. Mind you, this section is pretty straight and wide, but this guy just takes himself out. I plow into him,
and so do 3 guys behind me (we were going _fast_). But here's the "stupid" bit. Since I am the team GC guy, one of my teammates stops and
offers me his bike (happens to have the same pedals). In my post-shock haze, I prepare to chase the pack, then remember: this is a crit, and I
still get a free lap. Even better, the Pedro's pit is right next to where we crashed.... Luckily, the officials didn't notice that one of
the riders taking a free lap hadn't crashed.
This one isn't a stupid racer trick, but funny anyway: Brandon Gap RR stage of Killington, about 3 miles to go. A front group of maybe 30 or
40 guys is climbing the mountain access road. A guy right behind me just starts in: "Listen to this. Last year, I was finishing this stage on
this same road, and I was off the back. The Pro women had started behind us, and they were overtaking me. [Name of famous female cyclist deleted]
comes flying by me right here. I look at her, cheer her on and wave. She replies, "I only like girls." " Almost in unison, our pack says "oh,
man." I wish I could figure out who told this story....
-- Todd Rowell
Institut für die Studie der Mittellangedinge
The dumbest thing that I ever witnessed was Roberto Gaggioli having a frame pump fall off of another racers bike and end up in his front
spokes during the Fountain Hills (AZ) Crit in the early '90s. He broke both wrists and sheared his fork blades. I can understand this
in a cat5 race, but why anyone would have a frame pump in a *P12* *crit* is beyond me.
While riding with a French junior team, my English speaking teammate cried out for "un bidet" instead of "un bidon" (water bottle) as we rode through a feed
zone. Everyone had a good laugh.
I remember watching a citizens race in which a guy was racing wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. He was alone off the back and about to be lapped when a
race official shouted at him, "Get off the road, there's a bicycle race in progress." The guy replied, "I know, I'm in it." After stopping, he yelled to
a friend, "Yeah, I'd have burned that bitch if they'd of let me continue", referring to a gal who was way up the road from him.
In the late '70s, a friend, who was upset about a wheel-change mix-up, yelled in disgust, "Who put that snez wheel on my bike?" ("snez" is zeus upside down
and backwards)
How about Dumbest Feedzone Tricks? In the New England District Championships about a zillion years ago (1990 or so), this one guy was being fed by his
girlfriend.
When she went to give him the bottle, he was in the middle of the pack. Realizing that she was gonna miss him, she ZINGED it at him. WHAP!
Smacked him right in the head. He immediatley went down and took quite a few others with him. I was just behind him to the left and avoided
the crash...hey.. it wasn't a bad way to split the field in half!
Danny Callen
This one's sorta related...
A buddy of mine and I decided to do a 2-man TT in NW New Jersey. This is pre-aerobar days, and everyone shows up with road bikes.
Now, for those of you who've spent any time in NJ, it's pretty flat in most places. We certainly hadn't planned on any major hills, but when
my V6 van is CHUGGING up the hill to the start/finish line, we knew we were in serious trouble (we both had mounted 21-tooth freewheels).
D'Oh!
We had also mixed up one of those newfangled sports drinks - and figured if 2 tablespoons per bottle was good, 4 would be twice as
good. End result, 11 miles into a hilly ride, with the temperature at 95F (35C), I quit sweating. Ouch.
My buddy pulled me through the next 11 miles (it was an out-and-back times two course), at which time HE blew up big time with stomach
distress. Somehow I recovered enough to pull most of the rest of the way, and we took second.
I still remember the conversation on the final (wall-like) climb...
Me: Hammer, dude!
Him: I *am* hammering....
Mark Hickey
The dumbest thing I ever did on a bike wasn't in a race. I was on a solo ride in Sept '98, just out for fun. Of course, to am incurable
hammerhead 'fun' is going b#!!$-to-the-wall all the time. The police report says that I tried to run the red light but ended up t-boning a
car driven by a 16 year old who had only had his license for 1 1/2 weeks. The state trooper said that impression from my helmet vents
were clearly visible in the metal of the car roof. I broke two ribs, punctured a lung, and was hemhorraging in the occipital lobe of my
melon. I lost ALL short term memory, even the memories of about 1/2 hour BEFORE the accident, for about 4 days. I remember nothing until I
was discharged from the hospital on Thursday. The crash was on the previous Sunday.
The dumbest thing I ever saw in a race was last year at the Chris Thater Memorial Criterium in Binghamton, NY. I was in the Cat5 race in
the front pack. On lap 7 out of 15 (appx 1mile per lap) we were already lapping the really slow guys. Because it was Cat5 and the
officials didn't want to discourage anyone from future racing, no one was being pulled. This Fred that we had lapped tried to hide in the
front pack, even though he was a lap down, and ended up locking handlebars with meat about 28.5mph. This sent me into the guy next to
me, yadda yadda yadda. End result- Gravity- 15, Bikers- 0
The funny thing is that Fred was on the outside of the pack with no reason to crowd in so tight. My brand new virgin set of Velomax
wheels suffered irreperable harm and they are now at Taco Bell as a visual aid for the employees so they can make a properly-shaped
hardshell. My leg is still multi-colored from the square yard of road rash from the ankle up to the hip. The best part of it all was that
after running (spraying blood ALL over the crowd) to neautral support and getting a (bad) set of wheels, the tire gave out on the first
corner I took after rejoining the pack and I got another sqare foor of road rash on the OTHER leg. This effectively ended my racing day.
Does equipment failure qualify me as being a Fred?
At the first aid tent, where they got me to do my best impression of a mummy from the waist down, the Fred who had caused the first crash
came over with a dime-sized booboo on his elbow and wanted it bandaged. Decency prohibits my relating to you what I said to him
about his booboo versus the gaping wounds on my legs that he caused. I hope I see him next year...... ;P
Rob Coapman, lucky to still be here
I've seen enough stupid tricks to write a book, but some of the more memorable ones happened at the first stage race I ever attended, which was
the 1978 Red Zinger. My wife and I were asked to officiate and I somehow ended up as chief timer, perhaps because I could work a mechanical
stopwatch, which was all we had then. Officials weren't paid in those days. In fact, we had to buy our own plane tickets to get to Colorado and
there were no vehicles, so we had to hitch-hike to get to the various venues.
Greg Lemond rode that race, even though he was still a junior, and as I recall his dad rode it too. At a criterium in Vail, Greg managed to break
away and got about 50 yards on the field, but as he approached the #1 turn he looked back to see how much lead he had and in doing so he somehow
cocked his front wheel, causing him to crash and flat in the start/finish area.
In a miss-and-out, also in Vail and arguably not an appropriate event in a stage race, Phil Anderson won and was supposed to report for dope control
immediately after the race. However, a sweet young thing somehow talked him into immediately coming to her apartment for some kind of lively
entertainment and he failed to perform his urinary obligations, which earned him a disqualification.
Anderson didn't know it, but there would have been no risk if he had performed his official duties inasmuch as the race organizer budgeted only
for collecting urine samples, which were then submitted to the "toilet test" -- they were flushed down the drain.
In the race finale, a criterium in North Boulder Park, Greg Lemond again broke away, again turned his head to see how much of a lead he had, again
cocked his wheel and again crashed heavily. He later learned how to turn his head without rotating his shoulders.
-Les Earnest
Why do most of these seem to happen in Crits, I'm beginning to understand why I stopped racing round in small ovals!
About 5 years ago, here in Durban South Africa, the local clubs tried to organize a series of crits around the local soccer stadium, nice oval
course, no cars etc.
The race was open to all and all bikes, so there I was lined up on the start line on my MTB with 25 mm slicks, trying not to be intimidated by
all the tri-bars, shaved legs etc.
On about the 15th lap as we headed around the far side of the oval, this ice-cream vendor pushing a full tricycle cart decides to cross the road
to feed the soccer supporters.
I have this strange memory of watching a junior who was about 3 ahead of me strike this trike perfectly and take off, the trike explodes and I
blasted through a hailstorm of dry ice and ice lollies...
In my oxygen debt (try spinning a 42-12 for 20 min in a crit), it was all very surreal. I finished the crit, last not lapped, packed up my
bike and swore never to do another crit.
The other bizarre incident was in the Argus Cycle Tour in Cape Town two years ago, again road racing on my MTB. The Argus is a 105 km race with
around 30 000 entrants, so bunches of 1000 plus are not uncommon. It was raining and the road was about 10 cm deep in water. As we approached
Simonstown, the road splits (A Y junction). The route continues left, everyone can see it , but with the rain, those on skinny tired road
bikes have a big problem, as we corner a guy about two behind me gives up and keeps straight. hitting the curb head on at about 30km/h. The
curb flicks him upside down, and now travelling backwards head down he hit the chevron boarding back first, and slid down onto his head, all
still clipped in and as I recall pedalling.
The sound of him hitting the Aluminium boarding was better than any drum I've ever heard, and I noticed last year that the dent in the chevron is
still there.
Cheers Chris
Similar instance. Zooming down the little service road behind the Patterson Office Tower at University of Kentucky. Great hill, I was going way fast
for conditions at class change time. Hit the little flat for the handicapped crosswalk, bunny hopped some air off the downhill trailing side
to be cool, only to have some guys cross 10 yards beyond the crosswalk right in front of me. I did some amazing in-air gyrations to avoid a direct
T bone and ended up doing a barrel roll onto my back and skidding (fortunately) on my backpack about another 15 yards.
Trashed my front wheel and broke my left wrist...to this day I don't know how as I never hit the ground with my hands.
David Wagner
These are two of those more memorable ones. Downtown Lincoln Nebraska, Racing around the capitol, on a Sunday morning. I had finished riding
my crit and was sitting watching my friend ride in the 3's race. A drunk steps off the curb, dragging a protesting corner marshal with
him. He gets far enough out to take out the leading rider away on a solo break.
This fallen rider starts beating the guy senseless...(adrenalin is a very scary thing) A local cop pulls the rider off, and starts beating
on the drunk...
Two years ago at The Snake Alley Crit in Burlington Iowa, a rider in the Womens 1,2,3 field led her three breakaway companions through a corner, one block shorter than the actual course. She recovered, enough to win the race, and become a potential 2000 Olympic competitor.
My club, Cielo Velo of Santa Barbara, has an award for these things known as the brow jersey (maglia morone in Italian). I once snatched the Brown Jersey after crashing into a pylon while staring at a woman's behind as she bent over. I later discovered it was my secretary getting ready to run a 5K.
Scott Patton