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UV Epic 4.0

BlogWHAT? Not much to say lately. Been trying to do longer rides than in the past, and ride more, of course. I was doing pretty well until April, then somehow, after the nice weather we had for Ronde de Rosey, I fell off the wagon. Once I get one day in shorts and short sleeves, 40 degrees does not seem warm anymore.

Having not really ridden since Rosey (well, I rode that Tuesday with Curtis, but then nothing for 2 weeks), I felt obliged to try to get long miles with Chris Milliman at his cool sounding UV Epic. 90 miles, 9k feet of climbing, on dirt. Now, I was pretty sure I could not complete the course, but I needed long hours so I figured worst case I bail along the way and get back to Hanover.

Needless to say, the weather was truly EPIC (and I don’t use the word) and my legs were total SHITE. Maybe that run on the hotel treadmill in between four days of walking around Boston was not the best prep.

All I remember is shivering, and in retrospect, that Vermarc thermal jacket IS NOT WATER PROOF. Duh. I never, ever, EVER ride in the rain cause, duh, I am a CAT 4, I DON’T HAVE TO! So I never really realized that is not even really water resistant. Its super warm in a sponge-like way. Checking the photos, I was the only one not in a rain cape. Big mistake. My legs/feet were fine. My hands were ice bricks, even though I had three pair of gloves on me, one neoprene. It didn’t help.

Here is how Chris wrapped up the ride:

It was the hardest UVE so far, and it only last 25 miles.

What started as a light sprinkle in the early morning was, by our 8 AM departe, a pretty steady wet snow with 36° temps. But 15 of the stupidest riders in North America weren’t going to let a good morning go to waste, so off we went into the cold and wet. All riders’  feet were soaked within a mile and hands followed quickly after.

The first climb of the day had half the riders off their bikes and walking, the combination of 2″ deep snow and wet sand proving too much for road tires. The second, and what turned out to be last, climb was great except that as the elevation rose so did the depth of the snow. With two riders going down on the descent to Beaver Meadow Rd, one twice (ahem, Jerry), calling it a day was not a hard decision to make. (Notice in the picture the minivan in the background, it couldn’t get up the hill we’d just come down.)

It wasn’t just that it was cold and wet, which it definitely was, but the road conditions were getting unrideable at a rapid rate. So we all live to ride another day, no doubt bummed out that long car rides had not netted a better ride. But nature plays the trump card every time.

Oh right, I forgot…on the first hill, we all fell over riding up in the snow, spinning out. That effed my dura ace pedals and I was unable to clip in from that point forward. Oddly, who knew (no really who knew) riding unclipped on steep slippery downhills on fat slicks is really hard. I think I can ride a bike, but I wiped out TWICE. The snow/mud/ice packed those damn pedals so hard I just could not get back in, no matter how much cleaning and banging I did. So I just kept wiping out. Also could not get UP the hills cause I could do much pedaling. It was not ideal and I did not “represent” very well, being OTB as usual.

In the end, we got about 20 miles and maybe 2k of climbing.

Pictures or it never happened:

More reminiscing from the first Gulf War, cause its the anniversary and all. This link is great cause we were there, again. Click all the links for pictures. I wish I had more photos of my own, but I was told not to mail film home cause it would get removed from the package for whatever political reason. So I carried them all around with me. Unfortunately, I used most of them twice, cause I am a dumbass, so they are all double exposed! Artsy!

Couple guys who wrote books later must have been in the units I was attached to, cause they are writing about all these incidents that I remember vividly. My machine gun team and a rifle squad was detached from our company, Bravo 1/25, to go support 3/3 and Task Force Taro. See previous post, this was a “pre-assault” operation to secure the flanks (that’s what she said…).

They sent us off in two humve’s, 12 of us all by ourselves, with some first generation piece of shit GPS nav system no one had ever used, to try to hook up with the main assault force a half a day’s drive away. We just drove out across the clear desert, headed for Kuwait, nothing in sight. All alone. Seems so ridiculous now.  Much like our daily “accommodations“.

Luckily, there was a berm on the border, cause the grid they sent us too was the FINAL location of the pre-assault team, two days LATER! We would have just rolled out into Kuwait, 12 Marine Reservists with M16′s and a single M-60. So, we roll up to the berm, and there is this armored dozer there, punching a hole in the berm for tanks to drive through.  Next to this dozer is a humve with four flat tires and a torn up soft back. Couple guys were standing around outside of it, and the dozer driver was smoking a butt, as well.

We waved and headed for the hole in the berm. These guys all started shouting at us so we stopped. They asked us just what THE FUCK we thought we were doing? We explained we were headed out to hook up with 3/3 at these grid coordinates. They laughed nervously and told us 3/3 was not out there, but a bunch of Iraqi BMP’s and tanks were. They said a fire mission had just been called in by 3/3, who were several klicks to the east, at a corner in the berm, which it turns out is the infamous “dogleg” in the Kuwait-Saudi border which was the location of the ground invasion. Who knew? We sure didn’t.

So if you can imagine, there is a 90 degree corner in the border berm a few klicks to our direct left (east), and a few klicks north of that corner is 3/3, calling in artillery on Iraqis probing around in the corner.

The guys in the hummer and the dozer were all shaken up and chain smoking, and we saw the four flat tires and other damage on the hummer, and of course stopped when they explained our position. We asked what had happened to the truck, and they explained that 3/3 had called in the artillery on the that dozer about 15 minutes before we rolled up, thinking it was part of the Iraqi force. They dropped cluster munitions, which looked like lawn darts but were filled with little flechettes or balls or something. These had exploded all around the dozer and hummer, and blown out all their tires, but somehow had not injured anyone!

We had just missed the fun, it seems. In fact, one of the apache helo’s called in to smoke the Iraqi’s had flown right over us minutes before, and circled around back onto us, and you could see the red light of his laser sighting system light us up. We had this orange flag thing tied on the roof, which was the sign for “friendly”. He buzzed us, all lit up, I was in the back with the gun. He came right over us and then peeled away. That was one of the scariest moments of the whole war for me. Ridiculous cause there was not another soul in sight for miles!

At any rate, these Marines advised us not to proceed with our little 12 man invasion of Kuwait two days ahead of schedule, and told us to just drive along the berm, this weird dirt pile in the middle of nowhere, until we came to 3/3. Since our battalion intel had just about gotten us killed, we decided to go with the intel on the ground and do as they suggested.  It all worked out, and we arrived safe and sound later that day.

Turns out we had just missed some more action, as a Marine had recently blown himself up that day while playing with his grenades while walking patrol up on the berm.

Like I always say, we didn’t do shit the 5 months we were there, but we had front row seats.

 

20 years ago today

I am reposting this post from 2008, as Feb 22. is the 20 year anniversary of Cpl. Aaron Pack losing his life in Kuwait, we me laying under a truck 200 yds away.

I never met him, didn’t know his name till years later, but I think of it every year at this time.

http://jerrychabot.com/2008/03/24/cpl-aaron-a-pack-usmc-kia-feb-23-1991/

Found an excellent excerpt from a book that describes our mission and what we did those few days in February as well as any that I have read. Really took me back.

http://www.historynet.com/persian-gulf-war-us-marines-minefield-assault.htm

We were Task Force Taro, and we walked in the day before the actual ground assault took place to provide security on either side of the main advance. At the time, it was no big deal, certainly not the scariest moment of the war for me. Of course, reading all the information leading up to that night, now, with all that the generals knew, etc. and in retrospect it was a bit dicier I guess!

Hence, the most important rule of running a military unit – the mushroom rule: keep them in the dark and feed them shit.

My ten year old, Noah, is rather emotional. He loves to argue. Not to be mean, but because he seems to have an overactive “sense of right and wrong and fair play” according to one of his recent parent teacher conferences. Its a very accurate description. If you are playing a game with him, or other organized activities, he can be difficult because he will get very emotional and worked up about the rules, often bringing himself to tears in the process.

He brings himself to tears quite a lot, really. If you scold him, he wants to argue his defense so vigorously, often when he is totally in the wrong. I usually try to cut him off before he does more damage to himself (or to my blood pressure, I am not going to live forever at this rate) and he just. can’t. stop. He just has to try to keep explaining why it happened, taking you down a long and winding road, usually in a direction away from the “scene of the crime”. When you try to take him back to point, focus on the issue at hand, or just end the discussion, he only gets more emotional, more animated in his defense, usually to the point of tears.

He usually storms away in tears, red faced, angry, no – outraged, that all along he was JUST TRYING TO TELL THE TRUTH! He is so righteously indignant that I almost feel sorry for him. I mean, there is always a kernel of truth in what he is arguing. And he just clings to that truth SO HARD. He just won’t let go, instead he focuses in like a laser on some crumb of injustice, whether specifically related to the origins of the argument or not.

You see, that is the trick. That is what makes his argument so defensible in his mind and why he gets so emotionally invested in his position. He begins by getting caught, red handed, for some infraction of the rules of the game. He has a small window of opportunity, a moment in time, right then, but it’s ever so fleeting. A moment in time to simply capitulate, shrug his shoulders, hang his head for a moment, and accept it. We would all hug and move on and in a short span of time it would all be forgiven. We would all just let go, because we were not that emotionally invested in the argument.

Instead, due to the life lessons he has not yet learned at ten years old, he always feels he can defend himself and argue his way out of it. He starts explaining why it happened and I counter with why shouldn’t have done it, and he instinctively searches for the high ground, an island of dry land in an ocean of guilt. Soon we are arguing about something only peripherally related to the original infraction because he has crafted a sound argument, based up his kernel of unrelated truth, his island in the sea.

Run to the truth. Cling to the high ground. Dig your fortifications. Hold out. Focus on the truth, and deflect attention from the fault. Of course, the trap is that on such hard fought ground one cannot easily yield. Instead, one is compelled to hang on till the last. Till the bloody end.

In Noah’s case, the end is usually an early retirement to his room to sleep it off.

I reflected on this last night, in frustration at yet another senseless, avoidable argument in which he had lost all grasp context and was an emotional mess, honestly believing he was completely faultless and now being WRONGED BY THE SYSTEM! Clinging to his little kernel of truth. Living on his island.

This morning, I read Alberto Contador’s reaction to being cleared for alleged PED use. He revealed, in essence, that he had stomped his feet and argued until he literally had cried himself to sleep.

“The fault is with the institutions that haven’t served their purpose and who haven’t been able to review a case like this. It’s been six months of sleepless nights, pulling your hair out — there are times when I cried.”

Given my parental insight into such emotional arguments, I can understand the sincerety of many of these athletes charged with doping. I can see that fleeting moment when they found themselves running to their truth, found their high ground, built their defenses. Soon the defense of their island becomes so all encompassing that they forget what is too often revealed to be the real truth – that they doped.

“… all that matters is that you recognise that you have done nothing, …there was such a great injustice that I had to fight.”

They get so lost in the process of the argument, on what they can defend, maintaining their sanity by focusing on what they didn’t do. They find fault in the system, and point well taken, it is flawed. They redefine the argument around their truth, and they garner sympathy for their treatment.

Later of course it is often all revealed. The Kimmage interview with Landis gave a remarkable insight into the process of circling the wagons and the loss of touch with reality that seems to trap so many of these athletes. They spend millions of dollars defending their truth, when in reality they are in the wrong argument, the one they created in their mind to deal with what must be a sickening realization of being caught. The one they can win. The one in which they are on the side of THE TRUTH. They lose sight of the overriding truth that they are guilty, and now they are caught.

One can only hope that they read. That they read interviews like the one Landis gave, like the one I sincerely hope Tyler Hamilton will give one day, the that even Richard Virenque ultimately gave. The same one that Lance Armstrong will never give. Hope that they learn from those before them of the futility and inevitably, the greater damage to their lives and their relationships that will result from running from the one truth towards the another.

Or hope that they have kids.

Don’t worry, that will (probably) wash off.

Dah Weasel Report:

How does one blog about Dah Weasel?  He is like a vampire, his image cannot be captured on film, and he must be experienced in person.

Suffice to say, it was an event, and a bike race broke out.

NBX Day 1 & 2

This is going to be quick, cause I did not feel like blogging it, and now I have forgotten everything.

I drove down Saturday AM, leaving the house with Noah in tow at about 4:30. Eee gads, but work was sort of busy so no choice.  Got there and it was cold but clear. Great weather. The course was tweaked to have a FREAKING long road start. I got in an OK warm up, having not ridden at all that week, except for 30 minutes on the trainer Thursday night. I expected to be blocked. I was.

Off we go and I drilled it, yet I got passed by lots of people. That never happens. Never. Not when I actually try to start fast. I got XTR 980 pedals installed on Friday and corrected my tire situation to 32 Fango front and 32 SSC rear (tractor tread, but FAST). Anyway, it was a power cock measuring contest and we all know how that ends for me (hey its cold in Vermont).

I got on Gary David cause he was cooking. I was shocked cause he should be way behind me at the start and pass me later. This was my first warning that I was not on a good day, and I panicked. No offense to Gary, who actually was on a really good day on a course that was made for him.

By the time we got through the first grass section, the 180 at the end, and past the hay bail on the fence and onto the gravel section, I was pinned and clinging for dear life. WOW we were going fast! So fast that the front of the race was on the end of the grass section, approaching the 180 as I was coming off the pavement! Wow, horsepower. Get some.

I felt like we were pretty far up, and as I checked back as we got through the first woods section and into the open as you approach the set up for the beach, we had a gap. I was clinging and swinging. Gary was hammering. I was on Buckley’s wheel. Actually he had been on my wheel, me on Gary. Gary was steady and FAHKING fast. Kevin came around me, working hard for it, coming off the grass. He opened a gap to Gary and I came around to fill it, working hard for it as well. We did that a couple times and pretty soon it popped me.

IIRC, one lap in I got popped off Gary and Kev, but there was NOTHING behind me. So much so that I rode around chasing the wheel 5 seconds up the road for two laps. I knew if I could just latch on I could recover and surf that shit. I never made it. I felt fresh but sort of blocked and could never really bury myself. After a few laps of doing that, on my own, on a road course, I did a status check. I could see a group of 5 coming up. Gewilli was in it. I figured if they had not hauled me in after a couple laps, on a course like this, I should be safe to drop back to them and lose them later.

So I soft pedalled a lap and recovered. They caught. I let two guys go past as they seemed eager to RACE, even though Gary’s group was not even in sight anymore. I think I sat up and let them close a 15 second gap to me. It was bad. But it was the right choice. Do it on my terms not theirs.

Those two guys were going at it, attacking and working hard. I sat in 3rd wheel and blocked, as I did not want to drop back. I got a full lap of sitting in to recover. Approaching the off camber right-left hander that runs to the beach, I stayed high, to the right of the trench, they crossed over to the low, left line. I pedalled all the way around the corner and passed them on the straight bit before you turn left and right and drop into the sand. I wanted to lead the run to slow it down.

As we hit the sand I heard a fracas and a “shit”  and decided to drill it. I did a hard run and popped out around the tree with a really big gap. Someone must have bobbled that shit. Honestly I went around them so hard I think I gapped them before the sand even, and the panic probably caused the crash. The first two guys were banging pretty good the whole lap, so no surprise. And they were cooked from the effort, and they were in front of all the fresh legs. Perfect.

That was 2 to go, so I solo’d around for two laps working hard out in the wind and held it to the line, no thanks to Gewilli who was at the front on the FAST PARTS, drilling it and towing them around on the pavement. NOT how to block. I yelled at him to get off the front but he didn’t. He won the sprint though and finished right behind me so all is well that ends well. Gary was 31st, head of his group. I was 35th. Same result as if I had hung on him.

Sunday I was READY. I felt good. I launched off the line and got waaaay up there, top 20.  As we charged to the sand someone went down and Marcoux ran him over. I was on Marcoux and did a full lock up, rear tire slid around and came up next to me, totally crossed up, and riding the front wheel. I stuck it and shot off to the sand. It was HAWT! It did detach us from the train though.

I chased like MAD thru the sand, FLYING, around the course leading my group, I let a guy come around for the downhill pavement to the second sand on lap 2, finally. That felt great. By the last 180 off the pavement we were close to Brant Hornberger who was tailgunning a big group. Still top 20. I jumped the guy headed to the sand and ran hard and closed the gap to Brant and opened a gap to the group I had been towing. Perfect.

We rolled down the hill and across the pavement to the barriers and I checked back and we were free, the next guy was just dropping down the hill as we hit the grass for the barrier! WOO! I was on the train to glory, rested, on a wheel, and feeling it.

I remounted on the pavement as I run pretty far past the barriers. As I did I landed heavy and rim rode the tire. I knew it was flat. Sure enough, it went down. I hit the pit yelling for a wheel but the guy was chatting up at the other end of the pit.

A very slow wheel change ensued. I was DFL. I chased HARD for a lap, too hard. That blew me. I latched onto a group, the last group, Gewilli was up the road. I popped. I rode with a guy for a couple laps, we were tail end of lead lap.

I attacked the shit out of him several times but I sat up on pavement to make him come around and we almost track standed (it was John Buser turns out) so there was plenty of resting too. I could not shake him so I took beer feeds from Colin.

Last lap in the sand pit he yelled “you are going to let this guy beat you, aren’t you” and I realized, yes, I was. Fuck it. I sat up and he rode off and I rolled in at like 41st.

I was on my way to a legit Verge point. Brant was 21st. Gary and Stephan came up and thru (wow Gary!) and made it into the points, so even if I got popped off Brant I could have rested and hitched a ride back to 25th.

I was pissed. And pissy. I got in the truck and drove home as fast as I could and was home for dinner for the first time this season.

I decided on the way home that I did not want to go to Nats, and I could not go as I was loaded at work. I cancelled on Monday. It was the right thing to do. Season is over.

Since Mr. Rooter doesn’t like to have discussions with me on twitter, because its impossible to have a discussion with me, it seems…or is it just that he does not always want to engage in critical thinking on twitter…which ever, I am going to explain my thoughts on the recent UCI developments in blog form. Its going to be hard, cause that is a lot of characters, but I am going to give it a go.

Talking Points:

1. What is the mission statement of the Verge Series? Or more specifically, of its “owner” Adam Myerson in having the Verge Series?  Adam has stated online, IIRC, that the point was to create a viable alternative race circuit for New England based Pro’s so that they did not have to fly every weekend to race nationally.

Now, many will argue that the definition of viable race circuit is one in which the Pro’s collect UCI points.  Hmmm. I was not aware that UCI points were legal tender. Are they like food stamps? Or are they more like credit card rewards points where you can cash them in for anything? I was honestly not aware. I guess I really am sadly uniformed and out of touch.

Another argument for the definition of viable race circuit is one in which the Pro’s make money. Real money. US dollars.  Ok, in the US the prize money for top 5 in a cross race is never going to be enough to live on with out some kind of salary on top of it. Right?  But then, there is a whole class of itinerant “second tier” Pro’s (not my term, not intended to be derogatory) who seem to make a “living” on the criterium circuit without significant salary baseline.

I seem to recall Adam indicating that he had a vision of the Verge Series akin to that of the US crit series, with $10k race prize lists and so on, where an east coast based team could support its riders with prize money and “second tier” salaries, though.  I think the intention was more of a feeder system or development team to get promising local riders to get the time to develop and break through to the national scene.  That model seems to be viable for road racing, I think its reasonable to assume its viable for cyclocross as well.

A third definition of viable race circuit may be one in which the Pro’s can get high level competition on high level courses to promote their development or to prepare them for the highest levels of competition that they will face when they do travel nationally for their marquis events, like the national series races, or national championships, or perhaps the foray to Europe.

Of these three definitions, the UCI points model seems, on the face of it, to be the weakest.

2. Why do we have UCI points and UCI races? This is probably a tough one to dissect briefly. I am an engineer not a liberal arts major.  Hmm. Thinking back, it seems to me we did not have UCI points here. The points were in Europe and used for rankings of the top tier Pro’s for a season leaders jersey, and the rankings paid money based upon your overall standing.  This back before there was a World Cup leaders jersey, IIRC, or there were both, or there was just the annual overall world ranking, then there were both rankings when the World Cup came to greater prevalence, and finally just the World Cup leaders jersey.  That is recent, actually. There was still a UCI leaders jersey a couple years ago.

Somewhere along the line, UCI points rather than World Cup points started being used for call ups at World Cups, which pay out a lot of UCI points. The UCI points also were used to determine start money at races.  Also somewhere along the line around that time, UCI races started cropping up in the US. Now, this was done, I believe, to prepare our US based riders for success in Europe at Worlds, as we needed points to get decent call ups, country rankings, and so on. I do not believe that initially there was any other purpose for the UCI status as nationals was not even doing call ups on UCI points, were they? Hardly anyone had any!

Also of note, the nations ranking (based on the points of the top riders) was used to determine how many points were awarded at that country’s national championships. And this is where the real heavy points were.  You could get maybe 20 points or 30 points for winning a race in the US. Nationals was maybe 80 or 120 depending on how we were ranked. You win nationals, you rocket up the rankings and get much better call up at Worlds and the World Cups in the second half of the season.

After a while, the Euros started to chafe at their wallets being affected by US riders sucking up “easy” points here, against US only competition. They made noise. Rules changed to further devalue US based UCI points, etc. The guy in 20th in the UCI rankings I am sure did not care for reduced start money and grid position from the damned Americans who only raced against other shit Americans. But, it goes to show the effectiveness of the American UCI race movement.

Amongst these new rules were limits on how many “low level” UCI races were used to calculate your points, the points from US nationals got delayed in being applied until the Euro’s had their nationals in January, and so on. Clearly tailored to protect the Euro riders from Americans getting too many points. Additionally, to aid in this effort, World Cups were given a far higher and ever increasing points scale verses Cat 2′s and Cat 1′s.

For a domestic based Pro, all the points really mean to you is it now determines your call up for nationals. By UCI rule. For the Pro’s with euro based aspirations, the points carry far greater importance, but let’s be honest here, how many US riders even RACE in Europe in a season? Page. The CX World crew. Trebon. That is four or 5. The world’s team is 6. There are maybe 5, MAX, other guys who are fighting for that final coach’s selection for the world’s team who may hit up Proctor’s Cross Camp and thus could benefit from having chased points all year.  So we are talking 8-10 guys, at the outside, to whom UCI points have any real meaning, aside from call-ups at Nat’s. Of those, 5 are fully funded, full on “PRO” bike racers.

Ok, yes, UCI points are also used for call ups at UCI races. But what is the reason for having all these UCI races, which require you to use UCI points for call ups? Again, call ups at Nationals, and the 8 guys who want to race in Europe. 5 of which can get points anywhere, via sponsor funded travel, or earning them racing in top euro events, cause they are legitimately world class athletes. So in a sense, we here in the US have created the importance of UCI races (weekly call ups). Back before we had weekly UCI races, call ups at Nationals was NOT by UCI points, as again, only 6-8 guys had any.

Phew, this is long, but try to stick with me here.

3. What other benefits do UCI races have? Is there any benefit from this movement? Sure there is. The UCI lays out rules that govern how the event is run, how the course is built, how much money you have to pay in the prizelist, etc. There is no question it raises the standard of the event, and us amateurs all get to benefit from that cause we get to piggy back on that organization. I am thankful for that.

BUT…

>>>>If you got bored are scrolling to the end, PICK IT BACK UP HERE.

But – Having had the benefit of being UCI races for some time now, our New England promoters know how to put on a great race. The venues, courses, prize lists, I would argue strongly that those would remain at the highest level of quality without being UCI events. Would Gloucester or Northampton turn into “bad” or “blah” races (say like Canton, big but nothing going on and a shitty course) if they did not take out the UCI permit? No.

Where are we now? Well, the UCI has mandated that the Verge Series can no longer exist as a UCI series next year, in punishment for not submitting a series application form (that may or may not have even been mandated). So, you need a form and UCI blessing to have a leaders jersey and a series standing. Again, a euro rule to protect the value of the UCI’s only real “property”, the World Cup and the associated sponsor and TV revenue. This penalty has been RETROACTIVELY applied, mind you. No application was made last year for this season. No one was told NOT to have the series for lack of said application. But now that they DID, boom, BANNED for a year. Hmm. Smells like a conspiracy to me, but that is another blog post…

Ok, so Verge cannot exist as a series next year, but the races can be UCI…..OK, but that kind of sucks, cause even for us amateurs, the whole series thing adds a lot to the FUN.

Or, it CAN be a series, but the races CAN’T be UCI…..

This is the premise that apparently twitter cannot abide. Or that I cannot express in a convincing fashion in 140 characters or less. But I think its a viable option that still fulfills the mission statement, as I understand it, of the Verge Series in the first place.

Here is what I would consider doing with the Verge Series:

1. Drop UCI status from ALL OF THEM. This is mostly out of spite. But also, in my consulting experience, when a long term client fires you, as it were, usually the best remedy is to make it all or nothing, let them go find someone else to do what you do if they think they don’t want you anymore. Don’t try to argue or convince them or drop your price. Say, OK, I can understand that. I hope it works out for you. And then let them replace you. You are not going to hear from them or get any work from them for at least 6 months to a year, but by making them go to a competitor they are going to be reminded continually of how good you are at what you do. People just need to be reminded. You can’t convince them of it with them trying someone else for a while.  If you are as good as you think you are, they will come back and long term you will be financially stronger for it (more work, better fees, etc.).

And, let’s be honest, it feels good to take the high and mighty “if you don’t want me I don’t want you” approach. And not beg for their scraps. Bye Bye UCI. Hell it even rhymes.

2. KEEP THE VERGE SERIES. Hold the same old races with the same old organizers and you will get the same old racers and it will be great, and be a series, and be the crown jewel of New England cyclocross.  Ok, maybe you will lose some of the top Pro’s for whom your UCI status was a draw, but that may be a good thing, hear me out.

3. Tailor the race to the 2nd tier Pro. Tim Johnson and the other 4 US Pro’s who plan to race worlds will probably go to a UCI race on the west coast. They can. Their sponsors will pick up the tab. Great. They should. They need and have value in the points.  But what about the guys who are trying to make a meager living? Or maybe challenge for that last spot on the world’s team? I say pay them start money. You can pay whatever you want, as there are no longer UCI rules. You can call up however you want as well.

I would propose that the money that used to go to the UCI for officials and fees and UCI tax go into the prize list. And GREATLY compress the payout. Rooter and Ryan T. Kelly don’t need to make 20 bucks. As he said, they don’t race for the money. So don’t give them any. Give it to the guys who DO race for the money. The PRO’s. Its a PRO race after all. The rest of the pack will still have just as much fun. What are their options? Stay home? Go race some little event with poor production values in order to win $150 bucks? Great. Send end off. They will come back. The grass is always greener until you spend some time over the fence.

As far as the Tim Johnsons not coming cause they want UCI points. GREAT! You don’t want them there. They don’t need your prize money. You want your money to go to your target group, not some outside Pro who is already established. That is the mission statement of the USGP or whomever. Verge Series wanted to DEVELOP local talent, not support the local Pro’s who made good already. There are other opportunities for those guys.

Target the New England riders you want to help (as this is the mission statement of your organization). Pay them start money. How about them apples? TJ is cherry picking for your prize money cause he has more UCI points than God and was in town that day? Ok, start money for the 2nd tier guys who wants to fund a January trip to Europe. No start money for TJ.

Pay prize money to the top 5. Maybe top 10. Max. Make it worth it instead of diluting it. Make the money you have WORK for you, towards your goal.

Seed and call up by Series Points. Pay out an overall series prize list. Again, shallow. Top 3. Again, reward the local bag lunch Pro. Devalue “cherry picking” so the top 5 US riders won’t normally attend.

Keep the series short, 4 weekends. This maximizes the sponsor money PER EVENT and boosts the prize list funding. 8 races. And also, more importantly, this gives the top 5 guys, the ones that YOU REALLY CARE ABOUT, those top 5 2nd tier Pro’s in New England, the time, and the money, to travel on the national scene to chase those UCI points. Or to the outlier UCI races that will still be there, the mid western three day series that only got one “real” Pro.

Plus you still have the non-series UCI races, like Loon Mountain. Or a venue like Downeast in Maine that needs the UCI status to prop up the turn out. Great. This model in fact has an even greater “propping up” affect for those new or struggling events. I believe Adam himself said he pruned back the series this year in order to do just that. Well, flip it on its head. Make the awesome races that CAN survive without it part of the series. Make the ones that need the series to survive UCI instead. With the drop in UCI races, each remaining UCI race will be worth that much more. And there is still plenty of space in the NECX calendar for them.

In this way, you support and grow your local talent. They get both money and UCI points to travel to Nats, or maybe to go hit a World Cup. Did you know 50th place in a World Cup pays 10 UCI points? 5th place in a C2 pays the same – 10 points. Hell you get 5 points for just FINISHING a World Cup. Even lapped. You just have to finish. Just have to hang in there. 51 through ??? all get 5 UCI points.  Looking at this years results, our top 5 2nd tier guys would be in the 35-45th position pretty comfortably in a World Cup. They don’t need UCI points to go, they line up in back and finish in back. And score more points than staying home in the US. And as Page showed, if you are in Belgium, and doing World Cups, you get a leg up on the last couple World’s team spots.

That takes money, but that is where Verge comes in. No?

I am sure I am off on my facts here and there, and yes this is against conventional thinking, but I also don’t think you can just out of hand tell me that it’s not a valid argument. Though feel free to explain why it is in the comments.

Ok, I gotta ride my bike now.

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