Tribute to BarBri

I’ve noticed that my stress level and youtube watching time are directly proportional. The advantage, of course, is that I come across gems like this that help soothe the nerves just a little.

Brunch with Phil & Paul

We woke up late after yesterday’s adventures and enjoyed a leisurely apple-oat flaxjack brunch while watching the Tour replay. Vespa is truly Nick’s cat. Look how intensely she’s watching the race.

Another day, another box on the life list ticked

On July 17th, Nick B Brown & Carry Porter rode 208 miles at an average of 18.8 mph for 10 hours 59 minutes from Seattle to Portland. Every year 10,000 people make this journey on the flattest, longest, most boring route ever. Most do it in two days, but a surprising number in one. So why did we ride STP? As Nick wrote in an email: “Partly out of respect for Jerry Baker, partly because I live in Washington and you’re expected to do it in order to retain your citizenship, but mostly out of morbid fascination.”

Like a mountain climb, STP begins with an “alpine start” at 4:45 a.m. No one has headlights, but everyone seems to have remembered their rear flasher. Looking up the road, as we coast along with 2,000 other one-day riders, it’s blinking red lights as far as the eye can see.

The first rest area - REI headquarters - came quickly. We never intended to stop, but there was music blaring and the promise of a bathroom - much needed relief after the gallon of coffee and tea we downed after our 3 a.m. wake up call. The REI staff working the event were decked out in tuxedo shirts, and we took a moment to snap a few shots before rolling out again.

Because we were on the tandem cruising at about 21 mph, we were an attractive wheel to follow. I’d say we pulled riders for about 60% of the way. It’s work pulling people behind you, and most were really appreciative of the tow. Next time, though, I’m going to pin a “WILL TOW FOR BEER” sign to my back. Oh, wait, there’s not going to be a next time. Never mind.

By the end of the ride, we were tired of towing people (and more than a little sketched by the seeming inability of most riders to hold a straight line), so we adopted a passing strategy that involved swinging about 5’ wide of any group we intended to pass and mustering our best poker faces for an out of the saddle sprint. We usually passed going at about twice the speed of the group, which resulted in many “go tandem people” cheers and a few awestruck “whoa” murmurs.

And finally, after a detour through downtown PDX traffic, we made it to the finish line. The showers were hot, the burritos were tasty and the beer was about as wet and refreshing as it comes.

We now have a drag strip in front of our house

The city of Kirkland is repaving our street as part of its ongoing preventative maintenance projects. This has been an amazingly inefficient effort. Two weeks ago, half of our street was ripped up and repaved. Then the city tore out all of the storm grates and reinstalled them a day later. Huh? Finally, today, they tore up all their beautifully laid blacktop. Sigh!

The removal of the speed humps, also known as the high schooler launching ramps, was pretty fun to watch, though. Halfway gone, you can see just how high (or not so high) they are.

Rules of sport conduct - like laws?

WARNING! Tour de France spoiler below!

Competitive sports, like life, are governed by rules, which competitors agree to abide by. In sailing, the are the Racing Rules of Sailing. In professional baseball, there are the Official Rules.

Like our laws, these rules are designed not only to tell competitors how the game is structured, but also what conduct is appropriate and not appropriate. After watching Mark Renshaw of Columbia-HTC headbutt Julian Dean of Garmin-Transitions at the finish of today’s Stage 11, I wondered if cycling has a similar set of rules - ones that address sprint conduct specifically and give race officials the authority to pull a rider.

In case you missed the incident, the video below should fill you in. Renshaw was running interference for his teammate Mark Cavendish, while Dean was working to clear the path for his teammate Tyler Farrar. Afterward, Tour de France officials pulled Renshaw from the race, reminding riders that “this is a bike race, not a gladiator’s arena.” Skip forward to around 4 minutes to see the action play out:

Turns out someone answered my question about sprint rules, using past race decisions to illustrate the nuances of what UCI Regulation 2.3.036 actually means (just like lawyers would do!). Gotta love it!

The takeaway from this is clearly that the UCI’s rules on the subject are poorly-written and inconsistently enforced. In light of that, did the officials react properly?

On one hand disqualification might be viewed as overly harsh, because sprints are aggressive, unpredictable, and dangerous. It’s the nature of the beast. Renshaw didn’t do a lot of things that would have resulted in relegation alone. He didn’t take his hands off the bars to push or punch Dean. And he didn’t swerve into Julian Dean and take him across the road – which would have put the whole pack in jeopardy.

On the other hand, Tour organizers have limited options for disciplining a lead-out man that would act as a deterrent or penalty. Relegation is irrelevant, because it doesn’t matter where he finishes as long as his teammate wins. Organizers could levy a fine, but fines at the Tour (for feeding when you shouldn’t, hanging on the car, etc.) are pretty much the cost of doing business. And it’s not like you can suspend a rider for one day – like they do in baseball or basketball - or say he has to ride at the back of the pack for the whole stage. So even if disqualification is too harsh for the offense, the other options are essentially meaningless.

Who’s the real loser in all of this? Mark Cavendish. He won today’s stage, but in the process lost the man who has led him to three stage wins this year. He’ll miss Renshaw in the remaining sprint finishes, especially the final one on the Champs Elysees – which Renshaw helped him win last year.