Lookout You Just Got Served

One thing I’ve come to truly appreciate after my 11th day of riding Lookout is this: people on bikes love to race. Sure not everyone on a bike wants to race or likes the idea of racing. But when standing around the parking lot at the base of Lookout (as I did yesterday for a while) one picks up on some interesting conversations. People get keyed up to ride their bikes and everyone deep down wants to feel like a superstar. And so yes, while it may seem surprising, the mid 40’s woman replete with jacket tied around waist, riding the hybrid comfort bike is also very interested in her finish her and place within the pecking order of the band of cyclist comrades she will accompany up the hill. Other riders just wear their race-obsession on their sleeves for everyone to see.

This is particularly apparent with the 20-30 something male, out to somehow prove how exceptionally strong he is against everyone else on the hill. And if you happen to be wearing a team kit of some kind, you might as well have a target on your back. You are the yardstick that this ambitious foe would love to measure himself against. I’ve seen dozens of these Tuesday night racers on my rides up Lookout over the past week. Lookout on a good day is crawling with these hammer heads. And yet while there’s some great competition to be had on Lookout, one must be careful not to bite off more than they can chew. Here are two examples:

On Sunday while cruising out to Lookout I came across some 20 something guy on a Specialized, rocking his Assos or Castelli (I don’t recall) jersey and shorts just like the guy in the advertisement. He was moving well enough. I came around him on one of the hills heading into Golden, said my hellos and spun onward. Hitting the second light at Washington and 13th in Golden my new friend pulled right up behind me in a huff. The light turned and he was a mess of hasty clipping and shifting: I suppose I’d been served. We didn’t take the same route up through the School of Mines but as luck would have it I encountered him again at the light crossing to begin the climb up to the infamous Lookout pillars. Now, for as tough as Lookout is on its own, the climb up to the actual parking area, while short, is equally tough: straight up a steep grade. My new race buddy had something to show and took off, leaving the collection of riders also waiting at the light in the dust. He probably toasted himself on this initial hill…but that’s jumping ahead a bit.

My goal for the day was to put in a sustained, consistent effort up Lookout pushing a big gear and then spin my way up around Boettcher to recover before heading out to 40 and down to other locales for more climbing. I had this plan before I finished my pancakes at breakfast. I wanted to put in some miles and get a hill workout in, so that’s what I settled on for the day. Nearing the pillars the grade eases. I shifted into my big ring and started grinding onward. A little sustained power, big gear equals adequate speed.  Lo and behold a quarter mile up the road I came across my friend, weaving and passing riders, flailing his knees and putting the hammer down on those unsuspecting, weak bastards. As I neared him I simply slid over to the middle of the road and passed. From behind I could hear a flurry of shifting and heavy breathing. This persisted until the mile and a half point where it became eerily quiet. That was the last I heard from my friend.

My second story also starts on the way out to Lookout. It was Monday and I was again rolling out getting the legs going. After I got past the I-70 bridge I heard the sound of a rider behind me. He made some indication that he wasn’t coming around and sat in for the ride. As the road widened he pulled around and starting chatting. He road comfortably, strongly and was barely breathing hard. He wore a local team kit and was riding an old Independent frame. He pulled back in behind me as traffic demanded and when the lane freed he came around and resumed conversation. I did most of the pulling for the way out and heading up the long gradual hills outside of Golden still had the rider on my wheel, occasionally pulling even to talk a bit. The interesting tidbit about this guy is that he couldn’t shift into his big ring. Something broke on his derailleur while out and he was left with his 9 gears and small tooth chain ring. So while I hammered my 53 he spun his small ring, and kept pace enough to shoot the shit all the while. When we pulled up to the light and parted ways, he said that I about gassed him there on the descent past Coors. Gassed or not, he hung in and kept with me. I was more than impressed.

The moral of these stories is that as much as cyclists want to get out on the road and smoke other riders around them, believe me I was one of these guys not too long ago so I know how this works, you never know who you may or may not be smoking. Especially in Colorado where the field of cycling talent is quite deep, you never know who might be waiting to serve you some humble pie in return for your hubris. Colorado boasts literally dozens of local race teams with rosters of strong talent. We also play host to many pros who like to train here at altitude. And you never know if the unmarked rider pulling up next to you is a former 3 time Iron Man or former Junior World Champion. So while it is great to race and get all geeked up on how many people you passed on the road, before jumping in to wage battle sometimes it is better to get a feel for what your competition is really all about. Coming up on some rider, team kit or not, you don’t know if they’re on a recovery spin, if they’re doing intervals, if they’ve been riding Lookout for 25 days, if they’re ramping up for a big stage race, if they’re hopped up on EPO. You just never know, that is unless you ask. “Where you heading?” “How far you going?” “Mind if I sit in or trade pulls?” Any of these simple questions can help create a sense of mutual acquaintance and set the stage for some fun at a later point. On the other hand, if you pass someone going up Lookout and think you’re a hard ass, you might be severely disappointed to know that they’re also riding another 75 miles or they plan to do Lookout 4 more times...whereas you only have the cajones to do it once.

I suppose my point is, if you really want to race then go out to the ACA site and pick a race and actually race. Or go join a group ride and get to know riders who have similar abilities or interests as you. There are entire group rides for guys who want to race but don‘t want to pay to race. They talk shit, they sprint, they crash its all fantastic and totally free. Or, for the non-joiner then at least strike up a conversation with your fellow rider and see where it gets you. Don't hop on people's wheels and flail away because to you that is some form of competition and you just might 'beat them.' Its one thing to find a rider and have them push you to work harder and get stronger, its another thing entirely to notch your belt by wheelsucking on some team rider, picking off old men and schooling people on hybrids: what fun is that really? Then again, I know some guys in their 50’s who run sub 4 hour marathons and know their way around a bike…they also like to lie in wait for younger guys to try and pass them. Or in the classy dialog penned by one Quentin Tarantino, “The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps.”  Well I guess pride might help get you served!