Austria – Germany – Austria - Our own Tour of Austria
Day Eleven from St. Johann Austria
Today was a “day off” for both Rob and I. We had a long transfer last night to St. Johann through the mountains. The weather this morning was amazing mountain weather. We are in the center of the Austrian Alps; they are like rugged old men, towering above where we stay in their all their majesty keeping watch over the velvety green valleys.
We are staying in a really lovely pension and our overall group has almost doubled. Tracy has done an excellent job through the years organizing a great trip for Masters riders to test themselves against the best in the world and the numbers validate all her hard work. After a wonderful breakfast we headed out on our bikes for a tourist day. I warned Rob that I was up for an adventure which for me means several hours of riding, most of which I will have no idea of where we are or how we are to get home.
We headed out on the course and turned up to Wachesse which is a stunning lake town where the mountains fall down into the turquoise lake. From there we descended for 5 kilometers or so and turned right climbing through a mountain pass over to the another valley.
As we rolled through the valleys, the gorgeous picture book towns and up and down the mountains I decided that this was as close to paradise as I was going to get. I knew where we were for about 50 of today’s 150 kilometers but the ride was so spectacular that I don’t think Rob was concerned. It was just one of those days you could ride forever. Rob tried to document the beauty (see below) but the pictures really don’t do the area justice. This is simply one of the most breathtaking places I have ever been blessed to ride my bicycle.
Tomorrow is a World Cup Road Race for me and a tough hill climb for Rob. As we sit here and watch it blow rain sideways I am skeptical about my race. I want to come into Wednesday’s Time Trial as well rested and healthy as possible, so I am not fully committed to tomorrow’s road race.
Day Eleven from St. Johann Austria
Today was a “day off” for both Rob and I. We had a long transfer last night to St. Johann through the mountains. The weather this morning was amazing mountain weather. We are in the center of the Austrian Alps; they are like rugged old men, towering above where we stay in their all their majesty keeping watch over the velvety green valleys.
We are staying in a really lovely pension and our overall group has almost doubled. Tracy has done an excellent job through the years organizing a great trip for Masters riders to test themselves against the best in the world and the numbers validate all her hard work. After a wonderful breakfast we headed out on our bikes for a tourist day. I warned Rob that I was up for an adventure which for me means several hours of riding, most of which I will have no idea of where we are or how we are to get home.
We headed out on the course and turned up to Wachesse which is a stunning lake town where the mountains fall down into the turquoise lake. From there we descended for 5 kilometers or so and turned right climbing through a mountain pass over to the another valley.
As we rolled through the valleys, the gorgeous picture book towns and up and down the mountains I decided that this was as close to paradise as I was going to get. I knew where we were for about 50 of today’s 150 kilometers but the ride was so spectacular that I don’t think Rob was concerned. It was just one of those days you could ride forever. Rob tried to document the beauty (see below) but the pictures really don’t do the area justice. This is simply one of the most breathtaking places I have ever been blessed to ride my bicycle.
Tomorrow is a World Cup Road Race for me and a tough hill climb for Rob. As we sit here and watch it blow rain sideways I am skeptical about my race. I want to come into Wednesday’s Time Trial as well rested and healthy as possible, so I am not fully committed to tomorrow’s road race.
Italian domination
Day twelve from St. Johann, Austria
As I woke this morning I could hear the rain pounding on the window and the rain blowing the nearby branches. The mountains surrounding us were ensconced in clouds and the world outside was nothing but wet. The TV weather said it was 4 degrees (about 40 F).
I stumbled down to breakfast, already dreading a cold wet race in the rain. Breakfast held little comfort as everyone was talking about how miserable the descents would be (especially the people who were not racing today). I had my fresh bread, gallon and coffee and went back up to the room.
Normally, I would have headed out for a ride but the down duvet and pillow were calling to me. Crawling back into bed, I promised myself it would only be for a few minutes. About two hours later I woke up, in a tiresome déjà vu, to rain and wind.
Now it was decision time. I believe every athlete gets to this point. The argument for me not to race was strong. I did not want to get sick or crash before Wednesday. Although this was a big World Cup race, it was not my priority. However, the alternative would be to go out into the pissing down rain and train by myself which was not something that warmed my heart.
So I pulled on my shorts, my wind proof base layer, my arm warmers, my jersey, my rain jacket, my cap for under my helmet, my borrowed wool socks, my booties, and then oiled up my legs. When it is raining as hard as this, keeping your legs bare is the way to go. Leg or knee warmers just get wet and hold the cold on the muscle. I used a heavy oil to keep the moisture out with some embrocation underneath to keep the muscles and tendons warm.
My warm-up consisted of the 500 meter ride to the line. I knew I was risking getting dropped on the climb (which was about 3 kilometers into the race) but I was cold and staying dry was paramount. As we were called to the line, the announcer asked the women not to take any pushes on the climb. I had to laugh at that – would there be any spectators on the climb on a day like today?
The gun went off and we headed out into the woolly weather. Immediately, I remembered that riding in the peloton in the rain is extremely uncomfortable. Spray from the wheel in front of you hits you in the face, visibility is poor and you have to truly trust that people are going to take good lines. The alternative is sitting in the wind, and that was not part of my plan for the day, so I sucked it up and sat tight in the Italian formation.
This field had some very good depth. There were six Italians, a bunch of Frenchies, my friend Inna Pannina (with some support from her Russian friends) and a bunch more riders I had not seen last week.
As we hit the climb, the Russians and Italians upped the tempo. My legs creaked a bit but surprisingly began to warm up. Soon there was a group of six of us, with Inna and I being the only non-Italians. The attacks came from the right and then the left, but I was able to respond. As we neared the top there was a lot of cheering and yelling and sure enough a big crowd waited to greet us. Only in Europe would there be a crowd standing in the pouring rain and wind to watch cycling.
From the climb we hit the descent and I stuck to my plan. It would have been a great time to attack. A huge group was off the back and Inna was isolated. But the Italians were smart and hit the descent hard, trying to gap Inna and me. I watched as two of them got about 15 seconds on us, but instead of making a huge effort, I used the corners to close the gap. Once again I was on Michelin’s Pro Grip tires and as everyone else slid sideways on the wet corners I was able to hold my line. Having that kind of confidence in your tires makes a huge difference.
Hitting the half way mark, most of the field was back together. There was a lot of yelling in Italian (they like to yell – it is good intimidation), French, Russian, German, Dutch and maybe some English (but Americans don’t yell much unless they are scared and the Brits, Aussies and New Zealand riders are too polite) as the road narrowed. Pushing and shoving, these women put themselves where they needed to be. The racing became fierce as we headed toward home.
On the backside of the time trial climb I put in the attack I had been waiting all race to make. I had an immediate gap and looking back saw the Italians and French organizing. I hit the top of the climb and put my head down, pretending like I was in the time trial. I needed an opener in any case and this would be it.
I was away about 7 kilometers before field finally caught me. From there the attacks came fast and furious, but I snuck in about 5th wheel and hung out there. If the Italians were going to chase me down, I was not going to help them bring anything back. If they wanted it to be a sprint, they would have to work for it.
We were single file all the way until the 2000 meter to go mark. At this point, I moved up to third wheel and sat tight on the wheel in front of me. Coming around the final corner to the finish, I stood up to sprint but my effort off the front cost me a bit and my power was not what I had hoped. The Italians went streaking by me for first and second place. I came across in eighth place, and headed directly back to the hotel. No standing around in the rain for me.
There is nothing as heavy or as dirty as race clothes from a day in the rain, especially in Europe on farm roads. Let me tell you, it was not all dirt on my clothes. The sink wasn’t going to cut it for this batch of laundry. Rob and I headed out to the laundry mat bringing many pounds of dirty and wet clothes. It took us a good while to get everything cleaned, but some fresh bread and cheese made the time go much quicker.
Tomorrow is my final preparation day and a World Cup for Rob. I plan to head out to the TT course for one more ride on it to check my equipment choice and if the weather allows do a little motor-pacing. Rob races in the afternoon, so hopefully the weather will clear for his race. He has a big field, probably one of the most competitive he has ever raced in. I had six Italians to cope with; he will probably face 20 or so. His field may be well over 100 riders, and every one of them will be strong and equally determined to be first to the line. He certainly will have his work cut out for him.
Until then!
Day twelve from St. Johann, Austria
As I woke this morning I could hear the rain pounding on the window and the rain blowing the nearby branches. The mountains surrounding us were ensconced in clouds and the world outside was nothing but wet. The TV weather said it was 4 degrees (about 40 F).
I stumbled down to breakfast, already dreading a cold wet race in the rain. Breakfast held little comfort as everyone was talking about how miserable the descents would be (especially the people who were not racing today). I had my fresh bread, gallon and coffee and went back up to the room.
Normally, I would have headed out for a ride but the down duvet and pillow were calling to me. Crawling back into bed, I promised myself it would only be for a few minutes. About two hours later I woke up, in a tiresome déjà vu, to rain and wind.
Now it was decision time. I believe every athlete gets to this point. The argument for me not to race was strong. I did not want to get sick or crash before Wednesday. Although this was a big World Cup race, it was not my priority. However, the alternative would be to go out into the pissing down rain and train by myself which was not something that warmed my heart.
So I pulled on my shorts, my wind proof base layer, my arm warmers, my jersey, my rain jacket, my cap for under my helmet, my borrowed wool socks, my booties, and then oiled up my legs. When it is raining as hard as this, keeping your legs bare is the way to go. Leg or knee warmers just get wet and hold the cold on the muscle. I used a heavy oil to keep the moisture out with some embrocation underneath to keep the muscles and tendons warm.
My warm-up consisted of the 500 meter ride to the line. I knew I was risking getting dropped on the climb (which was about 3 kilometers into the race) but I was cold and staying dry was paramount. As we were called to the line, the announcer asked the women not to take any pushes on the climb. I had to laugh at that – would there be any spectators on the climb on a day like today?
The gun went off and we headed out into the woolly weather. Immediately, I remembered that riding in the peloton in the rain is extremely uncomfortable. Spray from the wheel in front of you hits you in the face, visibility is poor and you have to truly trust that people are going to take good lines. The alternative is sitting in the wind, and that was not part of my plan for the day, so I sucked it up and sat tight in the Italian formation.
This field had some very good depth. There were six Italians, a bunch of Frenchies, my friend Inna Pannina (with some support from her Russian friends) and a bunch more riders I had not seen last week.
As we hit the climb, the Russians and Italians upped the tempo. My legs creaked a bit but surprisingly began to warm up. Soon there was a group of six of us, with Inna and I being the only non-Italians. The attacks came from the right and then the left, but I was able to respond. As we neared the top there was a lot of cheering and yelling and sure enough a big crowd waited to greet us. Only in Europe would there be a crowd standing in the pouring rain and wind to watch cycling.
From the climb we hit the descent and I stuck to my plan. It would have been a great time to attack. A huge group was off the back and Inna was isolated. But the Italians were smart and hit the descent hard, trying to gap Inna and me. I watched as two of them got about 15 seconds on us, but instead of making a huge effort, I used the corners to close the gap. Once again I was on Michelin’s Pro Grip tires and as everyone else slid sideways on the wet corners I was able to hold my line. Having that kind of confidence in your tires makes a huge difference.
Hitting the half way mark, most of the field was back together. There was a lot of yelling in Italian (they like to yell – it is good intimidation), French, Russian, German, Dutch and maybe some English (but Americans don’t yell much unless they are scared and the Brits, Aussies and New Zealand riders are too polite) as the road narrowed. Pushing and shoving, these women put themselves where they needed to be. The racing became fierce as we headed toward home.
On the backside of the time trial climb I put in the attack I had been waiting all race to make. I had an immediate gap and looking back saw the Italians and French organizing. I hit the top of the climb and put my head down, pretending like I was in the time trial. I needed an opener in any case and this would be it.
I was away about 7 kilometers before field finally caught me. From there the attacks came fast and furious, but I snuck in about 5th wheel and hung out there. If the Italians were going to chase me down, I was not going to help them bring anything back. If they wanted it to be a sprint, they would have to work for it.
We were single file all the way until the 2000 meter to go mark. At this point, I moved up to third wheel and sat tight on the wheel in front of me. Coming around the final corner to the finish, I stood up to sprint but my effort off the front cost me a bit and my power was not what I had hoped. The Italians went streaking by me for first and second place. I came across in eighth place, and headed directly back to the hotel. No standing around in the rain for me.
There is nothing as heavy or as dirty as race clothes from a day in the rain, especially in Europe on farm roads. Let me tell you, it was not all dirt on my clothes. The sink wasn’t going to cut it for this batch of laundry. Rob and I headed out to the laundry mat bringing many pounds of dirty and wet clothes. It took us a good while to get everything cleaned, but some fresh bread and cheese made the time go much quicker.
Tomorrow is my final preparation day and a World Cup for Rob. I plan to head out to the TT course for one more ride on it to check my equipment choice and if the weather allows do a little motor-pacing. Rob races in the afternoon, so hopefully the weather will clear for his race. He has a big field, probably one of the most competitive he has ever raced in. I had six Italians to cope with; he will probably face 20 or so. His field may be well over 100 riders, and every one of them will be strong and equally determined to be first to the line. He certainly will have his work cut out for him.
Until then!
Who is hiding in the Peloton?
Day thirteen from St Johann, Austria
This morning was again sunny, warming my hopes that Wednesday’s time trial would also be dry roads and pleasant conditions.
After breakfast, Rob and I headed out to the course for my final preparation before Rob’s World Cup Race in the afternoon. I rode over to the start, riding the course in my head, with Rob patiently following behind in the car. I wanted to “race” the course at speed but without expending a lot of effort. Rob is an excellent motor driver because he has spent so much time behind the motor on a bike. Usually my friend Renee drives for both of us, so this was a bit of a change, but Rob kept the motor steady, upping the pace when I asked for it and dodging trucks, cyclists riding three abreast, rabbits, rocks and big piles of manure – all at 55 km an hour with me “attached” to the bumper. For those of you that think motor pacing is fun – think again. It is incredibly stressful for the driver; and the rider must have complete faith in the driver to do it correctly.
I check my gearing, pacing, and tactics one more time. Happy with the result we headed back to the hotel where Rob changed attire and I changed bikes. We then headed out for Rob’s warm-up before going over to the start line.
As I waited for Rob’s race of over 150 guys to start a guy in the group said to me “I know where Santa Rosa is.” He was obviously German and obviously knew what he was doing judging from his “kit”, his bike, and his overall appearance. “Oh yea,” I said “How’s that?” Turns out he was over to Santa Rosa with the Mercury Team in 2000 and 2001. He just finished to the Tour of Germany (a very upper UCI Tour) on Sunday and was here to blow his legs out. He rides for a VERY high profile German team (not to be named) and is a very well known professional rider, hiding out in non-team kit. I failed to mention this to Rob at the start but I did point out to him some of the T-Mobile development guys I saw.
I headed up to the climb so I could be there to feed when the group came through. The field was absolutely flying with attacks left, right and center. It was an exciting race to watch and each time by Rob was sitting in the middle of the field holding his own.
The feeding was equally exciting as you had everyone from professional soigneurs (care takers) feeding to the general public to girlfriends literally chucking bottles into the field in hopes that their boyfriends would catch them. It was overpoweringly loud on the climb with the cheering of the crowd, yelling coming from the pack, the announcer's excitement describing blow by blow action, horns from the caravan and the lead cars, gears frantically shifting as riders come over the top of the climb, and of course the Italian families’ shouting direction to their riders rising above all else. It was bike racing mayhem at its best.
After they passed through the third time I rolled down to watch the finish. A group of about 8 came through and then the field about 30 seconds later with Rob finishing in the top 30 which was a super strong finish in such an elite field.
The afternoon saw us preparing for the TT with me taking a much needed nap, and enjoying an early dinner. Panic set in about 8 pm when I began to pack for the race and discovered I had forgotten my TUE form (an exemption for the Albuterol I need to race). Thankfully help from home in the form of Renee and my doctor Ann saw me receiving the necessary paper work this morning – just in time! Now if I am tested (hopefully) I will have what is necessary.
I am about two hours out as I sit and write this. The nervousness is palpable in our little hotel room. Hopefully I will be writing a very positive report in a few hours.
Until then! Thank you all for your support. It has meant a tremendous amount to me.
Day thirteen from St Johann, Austria
This morning was again sunny, warming my hopes that Wednesday’s time trial would also be dry roads and pleasant conditions.
After breakfast, Rob and I headed out to the course for my final preparation before Rob’s World Cup Race in the afternoon. I rode over to the start, riding the course in my head, with Rob patiently following behind in the car. I wanted to “race” the course at speed but without expending a lot of effort. Rob is an excellent motor driver because he has spent so much time behind the motor on a bike. Usually my friend Renee drives for both of us, so this was a bit of a change, but Rob kept the motor steady, upping the pace when I asked for it and dodging trucks, cyclists riding three abreast, rabbits, rocks and big piles of manure – all at 55 km an hour with me “attached” to the bumper. For those of you that think motor pacing is fun – think again. It is incredibly stressful for the driver; and the rider must have complete faith in the driver to do it correctly.
I check my gearing, pacing, and tactics one more time. Happy with the result we headed back to the hotel where Rob changed attire and I changed bikes. We then headed out for Rob’s warm-up before going over to the start line.
As I waited for Rob’s race of over 150 guys to start a guy in the group said to me “I know where Santa Rosa is.” He was obviously German and obviously knew what he was doing judging from his “kit”, his bike, and his overall appearance. “Oh yea,” I said “How’s that?” Turns out he was over to Santa Rosa with the Mercury Team in 2000 and 2001. He just finished to the Tour of Germany (a very upper UCI Tour) on Sunday and was here to blow his legs out. He rides for a VERY high profile German team (not to be named) and is a very well known professional rider, hiding out in non-team kit. I failed to mention this to Rob at the start but I did point out to him some of the T-Mobile development guys I saw.
I headed up to the climb so I could be there to feed when the group came through. The field was absolutely flying with attacks left, right and center. It was an exciting race to watch and each time by Rob was sitting in the middle of the field holding his own.
The feeding was equally exciting as you had everyone from professional soigneurs (care takers) feeding to the general public to girlfriends literally chucking bottles into the field in hopes that their boyfriends would catch them. It was overpoweringly loud on the climb with the cheering of the crowd, yelling coming from the pack, the announcer's excitement describing blow by blow action, horns from the caravan and the lead cars, gears frantically shifting as riders come over the top of the climb, and of course the Italian families’ shouting direction to their riders rising above all else. It was bike racing mayhem at its best.
After they passed through the third time I rolled down to watch the finish. A group of about 8 came through and then the field about 30 seconds later with Rob finishing in the top 30 which was a super strong finish in such an elite field.
The afternoon saw us preparing for the TT with me taking a much needed nap, and enjoying an early dinner. Panic set in about 8 pm when I began to pack for the race and discovered I had forgotten my TUE form (an exemption for the Albuterol I need to race). Thankfully help from home in the form of Renee and my doctor Ann saw me receiving the necessary paper work this morning – just in time! Now if I am tested (hopefully) I will have what is necessary.
I am about two hours out as I sit and write this. The nervousness is palpable in our little hotel room. Hopefully I will be writing a very positive report in a few hours.
Until then! Thank you all for your support. It has meant a tremendous amount to me.
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