CiRCA Now

December Edition

Table of Contents
RACER by Elizabeth Emery
THE FAN by Jackson Wandress
SAD NEWS
CITY PARKS FOUNDATION by Alan Resnick, President
BOYD'S WOYDS by Jim Boyd, Membership Director
SUSPENSIONS
SLOW LAPS by numerous anonymous sources




RACER by Elizabeth Emery

After returning from the Tour de France Feminin I tried writing about it and all I could say was it was really hard. It was. Really hard. I don't remember feeling it. It's difficult to relate the spectators' enthusiasm, the carnival atmosphere, the logistic difficulties, the mood of the pack, and the sheer exhaustion. Now, on rides here my memory is jostled and I remember bits of things over there.

I rode for Team International Ebly, a composite put together by the race organization. Ebly is a high-end gourmet grain. Barley, I think. The team was me, Pam Schuster (my teammate from Chevrolet/Klein), Yvonne from Liechtenstein, Liz and Phillipa from Australia, and Tea (pronounce Tay-uh) from Finland. Originally, Mr. Bourgeaiseau (pronounced ?) from Ebly wanted to sponsor a high visibility French team, led by Jeannie Longo. But the Tour allowed only once French squad, so Jeannie was forced to ride for the French National Team.

Our team were all wonderful and interesting people, but communication handicapped. The allegedly French/English speaking Manager, Serge, spoke very few words of English. Fortuitously, nobody liked him, and by the middle of the trip we made no effort to understand what he was trying to say. The mechanic, Jean-Paul, spoke less English, but we liked and understood him. The soigneur, Magdali (Mag-DA-li), who detested Serge beyond anything imaginable and was soon to be related to him by marriage, spoke English very well. Liechtensteiners speak German, but Yvonne had learned English and French in school, and although entirely unprepared, became our translator. She was excellent except for the many times she listened to the French and began translating into school-girl French. Tea understood Yvonne because she spoke school-girl French and school-girl English, but needed repeating from the Americans and Australians. The Australians were completely incomprehensible. Phillipa was deaf in one ear and lisped a bit. Nobody understands Pam in any language. She makes words up.

I'd like to write about the racing. You know, who was doing what, where the winning moves were made, or how the races finished, but I never saw any of that.

The Tour Feminin is 15 stages in 13 days. The first day was a 16k team time trial. The next was flattish and only 50 miles. Day three was sort of the same but twice as long. The first stage of day four was 45 miles with moderate climbs. Then the real race began.

The second stage of day four was the hilliest, stupidest, most unbelievable 40k time trial I've ever done. The race bible showed a hilly profile up until the last 10k where the course flattened completely. Sure. I pride myself at being good against the clock and got to the top of a climb at 24k, whizzed down a small descent and got ready to smoke home. The road was smooth and wide, but ahead to the right rose a small, winding road. Oh boy. At one point I used a 39x21, passed a rider traversing the road on a time trial bike, and gave up all hope of making the top ten.

I never recovered from that. Day five was the Tourmalet. Steep and long. Everyone was afraid of that stage after a hard double-day. A quick glance at the race bible made it clear that this was only the beginning. The rest of the race until Paris was supremely hilly and long.

Nothing I've done here in the States has been as hard as the Tour for a few reasons. First, very simply, the terrain and length of the courses were difficult. Riding up the Tourmalet would be difficult in any circumstance, let alone at the finish of an 80 mile stage in the middle of a 13 day race.The crowds of old men and women with bikes along the Tourmalet surprised me. How'd they do that? Why'd they do that? By pushing me up the climb, they proved to be my saving. Once they let go it felt like the road was covered with glue as part of a cruel joke. This happened a few times and I looked back, certain I was having mechanical difficulties. A rider behind was laughing her head off. She well knew the brakes weren't rubbing.

Second, the competition is incredible. In the States, rarely is the field 80 riders, and not everyone is trying to get to the front, make a move, or win. Tea placed sixth in the Olympics Time Trial. Liz is 20 years old, tops, and has raced full-time in Europe the past two years. In August she raced every day but four. She is on the Australian program for the Sydney Olympics.

Third, for the Europeans, bike racing is something they've done for a long time. It's part of everyday life, like baseball and basketball here. Starting a sport young makes a big difference in muscle development. What this boils down to is that those women, unaided by unnatural substances, were faster than I.

Even going downhill was hard. My skills were pretty sad, comparatively, because at home I consider myself a pretty fast descender. In only three days I learned to speed up. I remember climbing a moderate hill and getting to the top with the group. All of a sudden everyone was single file, careening down the back side of the mountain which had no guard rails. I was pedaling and when the road got straight I dropped to the Spinaci bars Ben Wolf (CRCA/Metro) lent me. I still got dropped. Halfway down I had a fleeting moment of sanity when I thought how crazy this all was and how little interest I had in flying off the edge. I lost a bit of focus.

With four days to go it was clear I wouldn't have any more good days. I stopped eating properly. One problem was that once off the back it was unlikely I would get more bottles as our car went ahead with Pam Schuster and the leaders. During races I felt hungry, but even more felt a gnawing away at my very being, as if using body parts to sustain myself. Off the bike I still wasn't interested in eating.

The last few races began with incredible climbs. On one, Jeannie Longo cried. She had no help from her teammates because most don't like her and those that might work weren't with the leaders. Mr. Bourgeaiseau, the man from Ebly, asked Pam to help her out a bit. He did so the evening after Jeannie punched Pam in the mouth because she thought Pam had moved in on her at the sprint. Pam said no way.

I finished with the aide of spectators and motorcycle gendarmes. The two weeks were an incredible experience. It's hard to know if I'll do the Tour again. At the end of this one, I never wanted to race again, let alone the Tour. But after a month of rest, I'm training with a new coach and new enthusiasm, so maybe I'll try again.

THE FAN By Jackson Wandress

I celebrated July 4th by watching little Georgie Hincapie of Farmingdale, Long Island push, grunt, and shimmy his way to a 16th place finish at the Lac de Madine to Besancon stage of this years Tour de France.....live. There with my wife, Nera, in the rain, on a small rise overlooking the finish line, I spotted him bobbing and weaving, elbows pumping, near the front of the surging peloton. An electric shock went through me, "I know this kid" I said to myself, "I've raced side by side with him countless times," and here I was, watching him in the worlds greatest bicycle race.

We hunkered down beneath an umbrella and watched the melee along the roadside below. The tour as a media event is quite a spectacle. About an hour and a half before the riders arrive, giant tubes of toothpaste, calculators, disposable razors, six foot long Nike sneakers and ten foot tall Bic pens, whiz by with a couple of energetic individuals tossing pens, key chains, and little plastic flags all emblazoned with company logos. You begin to expect that this procession will be followed by a parade of giants. Ever present and always at the ready are hordes of ten year old kids collecting as many trinkets as their greedy little fists can clutch. The more savvy twelve year old fans comb the finishing straight crowds looking for the next staged publicity event to score something really cool like a hat, tee-shirt, or maybe even a water bottle.

About a half an hour before the riders were to arrive the sun came out. As it began warming up, the crowd thickened and grew excited with anticipation. The riders came in en masse. The finish area became a chaotic jumble of riders, soigneurs, reporters, film crews, and fans. It was mayhem. Things got so tight, even Indurain pushed and shoved the over-anxious photographers thrusting their cameras in his face and blocking his exit.

We ran to see the riders pass. They peddled slowly by in twos and threes, close enough to touch. Caked head-to-toe with dirt, you could see the exhaustion in their eyes. Few stopped to sign autographs or give interviews. Who could blame them? They'd just spent the better part of seven hours in the saddle, fighting a stiff wind, a cold rain, and each other. Mostly they climbed off their bikes, handed them to waiting mechanics, and disappeared into the brightly painted scenic cruisers, not to be seen nor heard from until the next day's stage. Motorola's Lance Armstrong was being questioned by an ABC Sports television crew outside the team Winnebago (no customized tour bus for the American team) when we sauntered over. I awkwardly stood next to him so that Nera could snap a photo (yes, I did see myself on ABC the following week). As I was standing there I saw George emerge from the motor home. If Motorola had had a huge bus I might never have gotten to talk to George, but there simply wasn't room enough inside for the whole team at once.

George was the first to finish that day, and consequently, the first to get squeezed off the bus as his teammates found their way to the rolling H.Q. Poor George just stood there, soaking wet and covered with road grime, still wearing his red and blue uniform with a towel around his neck and his travel bag slung over his shoulder, a clean white space around his eyes where his sun glasses had been. He looked like a lost puppy, his eyes eagerly hunting for refuge. Nobody bothered him, they all wanted to talk to Lance, but he looked vulnerable anyway. I seized the opportunity and sidled up to him, and in my best American accent said, "Hey George, what's'up?" The unnatural familiarity in my voice caught him by surprise and he looked over, question marks in his eyes.

I had thought about this moment on my way down to Besancon. I've known George since he was thirteen, racing as a midget and beating riders (myself included) many years older, but never knew him well. We had friends in common but had never actually gotten to know each other. Nevertheless, there I was, standing next to a fellow New Yorker, Prospect Park racer, and now a Tour de France hero. I had nothing to say. I wasn't thinking straight and had a bad case of Tour fever. I managed to introduce myself, drop familiar names from back home, and stammer out a few polite words. George was friendly and didn't seem to mind my intrusion. We chatted for a few minutes. It was clear, however, his priority was finding food, shelter, and a hot shower. Eventually Director Sportif Jim Ochowitz came to his rescue in a team car with five identical Eddy Merkcx bicycles on the roof. Before he took off, George was kind enough to pose with me for a photo and answer one more question. I'm a sucker for a good hero story, and part of me still survives from my teenage years when I used to lie in bed at night and fantasize about riding in the Tour. When I bluntly asked him what it was really like, George replied, "'Dis shit is crazy."

SAD NEWS

Linda Shutt, a Century member during the 1980's, died in an auto accident November 2nd. A Journalist for The Toronto Standard, Shutt was travelling to a conference in London, Ontario when she lost control of her car on an icy overpass and slid sideways into a van's path.

She is survived by husband Maurice Desnoyer, another former CRCA member. Living in New York throughout most of the 1980s, Shutt discovered competitive cycling and trained for about nine years, entering the Canadian Olympic Trials in 1984.

If desired, memorial donations may be made to the Linda Shutt Memorial Award, Ryerson Polytechnical University, 350 Victoria Street, Toronto, Canada, M5B 2K3, or to the Arthritis Society for Metropolitan Toronto, 250 Bloor Street East, Suite 901, Toronto, Canada M4W 3P2.

CITY PARKS FOUNDATIONby Alan Resnick

Ladies and Gentlemen, "Don" Alan Resnick

As the year comes to an end we must think about next year's schedules. Foremost is our relationship with the Parks Department. We hope to donate $5000.00 to the City Parks Foundation. As I've asked before, please consider a tax-exempt donation. Make a check to City Parks Foundation and mail it to the club for inclusion in our group gift. Think of it as insurance, or a surcharge on our cheap weekly entry fees. Think of it how you will, but please, mail a donation today. Thank you.

PLEASE DONATE TO THE PARKS FOUNDATION!!

SEND YOUR CHECK TO THE CLUB FOR INCLUSION IN OUR GROUP GIFT!

BOYD"S WOYDS by Jim Boyd - Membership Director

Everyone should have received their CRCA renewal forms by December 1st. If not, call the Century Hot Line 212/222.8062, extension 2.

The membership fee schedule is the same as last year. Renewal in December is $15; from January 1, 1997 on, it will be $25. Regardless of month, we hope all members renew at the Supporter level of $25. Club money always goes back to the members.

For 1997 members are again offered a "Dinosaur" deal. An extra $90 prepays all 1997 club races. Just show your card at registration and you're off to the races. (A dinosaur is stamped on the back of club membership cards.)

1996 was another good year. We had 186 new members and 131 who did not renew for a net gain of 55. This compares well with the banner year of 1995 when 206 new members joined.

CRCA has it first professional rider: Kevin Monahan, on the Breakaway Couriers team. I was at first dubious about the legality of a Pro in our ranks, but a call to our USCF District Rep,. Hilda Monaghan, set me straight.

The CRCA Racing total is 525, of which 63 are women. Adding associates, life members and others on our mailing list to that total, we now send out 647 newsletters.

As a team responsibility, Breakaway Couriers began in October to label, stamp, and mail CiRCA Now. Those of us who had been affixing those labels and stamps individually are greatly appreciative.

At the November CRCA Board Meeting a committee was formed to study questions of Runner's Lane violations and suspended riders entering club races. Members are Ace McDade, Ed Leonard, Will Burr, Mark Maljanian, and myself. Assistance is welcomed.

SUSPENSIONS

Club records show that members listed below were suspended for missing one or more marshaling dates in 1996, or were suspended in 1995 and never made up the date(s). This list is valid through 11/16/96, the last race of the season. If you have any questions, call Marshal Director, Will Burr.

Suspended riders who renew membership for 1997 will receive pink membership cards. They also will not be assigned marshaling dates in 1997. To get off the suspended lists, riders must volunteer to marshal in 1997 the number of times missed in 1996.

If a suspended rider is on a team, the team is ultimately responsible for the number of dates missed by the team member(s). For example, if a team member misses a date because, say, he moved to China, the team is responsible for making up that date.

slowlaps by numerous anonymous sources

".....that's not what's best about NYC cycling. What's best is the club life."
Maynard Hershon, VeloNews, November 18, '96


ABC-TV's Marathon Man Marty Liquori said "running the tangents." is vital to winning in Central Park. Call it what you want Marty, it's still a Runner's Lane violation and certain DQ to us.

Speaking of......Gotham Bike's Dave "Chief O'Hara" Nazaroff was spied sharing a booth at the Marathon Expo, where he sold a $2,400.00 bike to a Belgian cross-trainer. Now that's good ol' American entrepreneurial spirit!

It must be the new strip. The True and Holy, Yellow and Blue CRCA bunch appears to be beefing up the '97 roster. Gianluca Bartolami, formerly of Mapei, tries his new jersey!

Anyone who saw MC Mike McCarthy (CRCA/Saturn) speak at the November Club Meeting got a real treat. Insider winter training information, too. Lookout baby, Papa's got a brand new jump! Yeah, sure. Evan Wachs is switching from TomCat to Metro. Riiiiight. And next week Patrick Ewing (CRCA/Knicks) is jumping to the Nets. We'll believe it when we see it. (Who will his alter-ego Yvan Waxio ride for?)

Speaking of...you ever notice Derek Jeter (CRCA/Yankees), John Starks (CRCA/Knicks), or, for that matter, "Crazy Pabs" Castro, in the same place?

Baker doesn't sound like a Greek name.....Sony's "Street Goddess" Cindie "Atalanta" Baker was featured in a recent New York article about folks who live on and by their bikes. This club is a Publicity Magnet!

Who's playing soccer? Call Mark Maljanian, maven of the multi-skill-leveled Monday melee. It's a rollicking (and safe) good time at Riverbank State Park.

The Bertha House Party is dead. Long live the Bertha House Party! The annual bacchanal is no more. The Bertha residents hope only that the spirit of the party (and its broken bottles and beer smell) lives on elsewhere!

What's the story with this guy Greg Randolph (CRCA/Motorola)?! First he's an unknown picked for the Olympic team, then surprise, surprise, he signs with Motorola, and now he quits road racing for mountain bikes?! These kids of today....Can you imagine if this guy had the tv remote-control in your house?!

The East's fastest, "Jazzy" Adam Myerson (CRCA/The Piercing Pagoda) plans to spend 6 weeks (from Christmas until February) racing cyclocross in Switzerland. He'll race in the 'cross Mecca under a Breakaway/Richard Sachs/Bicycle World Sponsorship. He's been churning up them New England 'cross Yankees (see Race Data) and conveyed his regrets at missing December club festivities because of 'cross nationals in Seattle.
Ed. note. Adam's a good guy. Probably no more piercing jokes from here on. Probably.

The CitySweets Ferrymen must be feeling diesel. It's rumored they're beefing up with Yellow and Blue riders, their Cat II plans to go I, and their IIIs may attempt to become IIs by end of the 97 season! See....candy is good for you! (Call Manny Rodrigues for info on their sub-team-sub-party.)

The famous philosopher Homer (CRCA/Simpsons) said it best:
"Whoohoo!" The Century Holiday Party is only days away! When you see Alisa Rashish at the Holiday Party, please thank her for her generosity to Century and this newsletter. Thanks Alisa! Lisa Halle (CRCA/Tecate Uno Mas), is engaged! After reading what a hunk she had (in the September CiRCA Now), she levelled her sights and bagged that beauty. Throw that one on the hood, Earl, that's a keeper! Congratulations!

A wise man once said (though not for attribution) "The lazy dog barks slowly, and the spinning wheel gathers no grease." He asked us to print it

Who's Kristi Meyer!? Despite last month's ad to the contrary, Century ex-President Kristi (Hansen) Halpern is still responsible for the distribution of the re-designed, gorgeous, and classically styled (perfect-holiday-gift-for-the-cyclist-in-your-life), CRCA clothing. The stuff moves out quickly, but any delays in delivery are due the demands of the small sheep and engineer shown here.

Call it old school, call it a sense of responsibility, call it doing the right thing, but on the 27 degree morning of the season's last race, it was great to see the ever-urbane Tony Fields happily pouring hot coffee from a thermos, cheering on the packs, and marshaling his post on Harlem Hill. Now that's what we call a club member!

Look! For the first time, not one mention of Mihael Ginghina in this issue.
Damn.