SCR High Performance Coach: Jimmy FKN Butler

Words by Jimmy Butler... 

We thought we'd ask our very own high performance coach, Jimmy Butler, to shed some light on some key issues for the team in public sphere so you could get a feel for what we, as serious racers, struggle with day-to-day...

Enjoy.

- Jimmy, how important is colour co-ordination in your pre-race routine? How much time to you dedicate to this task?

Colour co-ordination and looking good in general are everything. Looks and style are all that matter in the sport of the gods (road cycling - only piss off MTB!). 5-7 minutes should be dictated to this before every training ride and 8.25 to 9.5 minutes every race day. One should also always be constantly checking their reflection in shop windows when riding in town

- Jimmy, not only are yo super pro, but you're also really handsome? Just how do you pull this off?

This happens to be a fine art, which I have somehow managed to perfect over the past few years. It involves carefully listening to all Bollywood’s (Mitch's) fashion and style tips and ignoring anything that comes out of Nick Smiths mouth! Also I must say that the consumption of a pear (not apple) cider helps considerably with the looks. While any Italian beer seems to put a bit more punch in your legs!  

- Jimmy, if someone yells at you in the bunch for attacking or not pulling turns, how do you deal with it?

Well the issue of being told off for attacking seems to be only a temporally, issue as given a minute I’ll never see the Hubbard again. And as for not rolling turns, I prefer to tell them straight up “Listen mate my plan is to sit on and let you do the work, I’ll just roll you at the line” the common response is usually a shake of the head. He clearly did not understand.  

- Jimmy, will this ridiculous fad of fluoro gear in the local bunches ever end? (and do pink tyres make you go faster?)

As long as Hollywood continues on the local seen it will never end. The question of whether it makes one faster is easily answered. If the fluoro gear is worn at the extremities of the body for example, bootie covers, eye wear or gloves, the answer is yes. If it is worn covering large portions of the body the cyclist is a disgrace and they will most likely get dropped. I happened to see a cyclist a few weeks back wearing long fingered fluoro gloves, but then they had short fingered gloves over the top! This is a big no no and that particular rider, who shall not be named, is going nowhere!

    























- Jimmy, chamois creme... yay or nay? Also, euro "tingle" or standard...
Any product or practice that cyclists in Europe indorse gets a big tick. So it’s a yes and either standard or euro tingle are acceptable. If the cream is applied by ones mistress or girlfriend it seems to work much better and your chances of dominating the race increase dramatically.

- Jimmy, have you ever had such a numb dick that you could slam it between a car door with no ill effects pain wise?

All the time.

For those not lucky enough to have Jimmy providing constant commentary on personal appearance and race tactics, we'll be providing top tips from the Boss periodically.

Stay tuned.

How the #GORC Was Won

Words by Gene...

I sit here now a week after the fact with a G&T in hand, watching A Sunday in Hell I think to myself: "Could I do that on a fixie?"

How the #GORC was won?

Well to put it truly, short and simply - it was won by a bunch of pretty fast guys on carbon road bikes dressed in matching spandex suits yelling stuff like "RIDERS RIDERS RIDERS PASSING!!!!" while we dinged our bells, did whip skids and yelled stuff like "WOOOOOO" and "SKIDZZZZZZZZ"

So now that question's been answered, here's some tips on how to do the #GORC if you get the chance.

1. Turn up on time - it's a handy cap so this sort of thing helps.

2. Get some rest - any less than 8 hours sleep is not recommended....we definitely got 5... right.

3. Proper pre race nutrition carb loading and lots of light greens are recommended - or beer. Just shit loads of beer and a massive BBQ.

4. Breakfast. Don't forget breakfast - well at least we wont next year.

5. When packing do a full equipment and parts check-list - like who could possibly forget a wheel..........

6. Taper. When you taper correctly it will make a massive difference - I tapered for about 4 months.

7. Post race recovery. Don't wait 3 hours to get something to eat. Also, avoid any unnecessary sun exposure and any dehydrating toxins (read: beer).

Right... now... 

Carbs.

"Do a back-flip, Nick. DO A BACK-FLIP, NICK." 

How the #GORC was lost?

We arrived in Aireys at 6pm, Mitch was already slurring his words, beers got sunk and the BBQ was had. After a restful 5 hours sleep we awoke to no breakfast, and a lack of a rear track wheel for one of the bikes. yep where running late. A call to the Cam Mcfarlane at the @is (Anglesea Institute of Sport) and we sorted the wheel at a cost to not only our start time, but the Hell Krew's as well.

After a bit of skid practice we head off.

The climb out of Lorne warmed our legs up pretty quickly and after that bit of stress the rest of the ride was pretty casual till we hit Forrest. Although the first set of descents down to deans marsh reminded us that brake-less track bikes are, well, well they don't have brakes.

Climbing out from Forrest up to the top of the Skenes Creek descent set me to delivering the mail a tad, then it was all down hill, literally.

It was an awesome day out and I recommend it to all those who think the Warny is insane. A massive thanks to the Great Ocean Road Cyling club for setting it up and running a great event.

About Maltreated Sobbing Bodies I Wander...

Words by the indefatigable, moustached necro-wizard - Jamesy... 

Following our nightly training ride, wherein no training was done, but a lot of shit talking was, it has come to our attention that crit season is approaching.

Some know that criteriums are around the corner from the delicate blossom on the still Winter strangled trees, others know it when they find a hole in the shammy of their longs.  Most of us, on the other hand, can tell the circuit racing we love so much is fast on the way by the reappearance of that strange and elusive creature: the crit specialist.

The crit specialist in truly a sight to behold.  Here you are, having buried yourself on the cold, dead roads that is the road season all winter, when suddenly, these loud and chipper fellows appear, as if from nowhere.  Conversation's between crit specialist range from choice of deep section wheels this season, to what beer they are currently sinking (crit specialists are always sinking beers).  Please note that if you ask a crit specialist what racing they did over winter, you will receive a blank look.  This is not because the crit specialist is embarrassed he did not race over winter, it is because he is not aware that there is any racing over winter.  To the crit specialist, bike racing consists of criteriums, and criteriums only.  The only other racing he will accept is sinking beers, but that happens in the arvo, after criteriums.

As a skinny, gutless roadie, who happens to like crits, I have made it my duty to come to recognise the criterium specialist from afar, so that I can suck his wheel and then win.  Please note that I never win, because I am a skinny, gutless roadie.  It is with pleasure, then, that I put to you the most recognisable characteristics of our beloved crit specialist.  Long may you hold his wheel.

1. Size. Crit specialists are always, how should we put this, of the larger variety.  They tend to hold to the old training moniker of 'saturated fat for saturated power'.  Witnessing a crit specialist come out of hibernation is akin to witnessing a bear stagger out of an all-you-can-eat diner.  Only they are wearing lycra.  Of course, the crit specialist will get down to 'race weight' by the middle of the season, but don't be fooled.  If he takes you down, you won't get back up.

2.  Cankles. Crit specialists always have cankles.  This is related, it is assumed by this author/journalist/hack, to the girth issue discussed above.  The crit specialist will attempt to hide the cankle issue by either adhering to the track fashion of very short socks, thereby signalling a distinct fashion faux pas, or the roadie fashion of very high socks, which is perhaps even more obscene, given the total lack of roadie ribs showing through the jersey.

3. Bike creaks. The crit specialist puts down some serious watts.  This is the guy that, when he inevitably attacks three laps in, you are chewing bar tape just to hold this suckers wheel.  As you manage to sit in, you will hear that rhythmic creak, as this strange specimen lays it all out on the road.  That is his carbon frame/un-torqued crank bolts/bar-stem combo literally groaning under the force of this animal.  As you sit there, wondering how this functioning booze hound is thumping you so hard, despite you training all winter when he was literally knee deep in pies, you will have that creaking to keep you company.  It will haunt you.

4. Can't stop/don't wanna attitude. The crit specialist stops for no one.  Barely even the finish line.  When in a race, this guy will be the bloke who is yelling from the back of the bunch to 'close that gap' even though you are on the front, literally puking up a lung to get that U17 prodigy to please, you know please, come back.  He is also, it should be noted, the only kind of cyclist who can take on the Beach Road Clam (note:   the Beach Road Clam is a driver who swings their car door open, gets out of their car, realises a bunch is coming at them flat chat, and attempts to fit themselves back into their car, closing the car door, without actually sitting back down in their seat).  Such is the power and girth of the crit specialist, they would knock clear through this car door, then curse the headwind which is, 'arking up a bit at the moment'.  Meanwhile, you the roadie, will be sitting on his wheel, wondering which fucking planet this guy was born on.

5. Laughing in the face of danger. Face it.  Most of the time in crits, you're shitting yourself.  Nothing says shitstorm more than a scenario where a bunch of amateurs race very fast in tight s trying to cross a line before everyone else.  If you are a normal, sane, human being, each crit race will have at least one moment where you are sure, nay convinced, that you are about to die.  It's just racing.  If you are normal, you will probably yell something like 'woah, hold your line mate!' then discreetly shit yourself. The crit specialist, on the other hand, will merely snort, then tell the offending person to 'pull a fucking turn you cvnt', before he dives into a corner on the inside of the bunch, proverbial, or literal, moustache, billowing in the breeze.

6. Not winning. The crit specialist rarely wins.  This is not because, as you the roadies suspect, because of his lifestyle habits off the bike, bur rather because 'all these young kids don't know how to race or show respect'  That is in fact true.  All these young kids are very, very fast, and don't give a shit if some fat bloke with cankles is demanding they respect their elders.

Love or hate them, the re-emergence of the crit specialist signals one thing for sure: crits are coming!  And really, what else are crits, other than a celebration of summer, and riding in the good weather.

Bring on the cankles (and post-crit burritos).

Blokes You Can Trust - 2013 Sam Miranda Road Race - C Grade

Words by Dingus Dave and Duggan...

Dingus Dave:

C Grade Masters Race Report. 

No idea what happened, cause I missed the start. Too busy waiting for fellow Saint Clouders to drink their Ethiopian coffee in Beechworth. I fkn told you we’d miss the start! Good see HCC Crit regular Mark Bailey get up for a place.

C Grade Elite Race Report

So anyways, I rolled out a few minutes after the C Grade Masters bunch on my own. No chance in hell I was starting a 100km road race by chasing down a 4 minute gap on my own, so I dawdled along for half an hour waiting for the C Grade bunch behind me, with Duggan and Mitch in there, to catch up. A couple of magpie swoops got the heart rate going. Nothing like sprinting seated whilst trying to look up/behind you, whilst screaming like a bitch.

After 15km, Duggan came smashing past me, solo off the front of the bunch. I put the hammer down to catch up, had a quick chat, then dropped back to the C Grade bunch. Given this wasn’t my race, I couldn’t really stay out there with him to help.

With Duggan out front sweeping up all the sprint and KOM points, Mitch knew the deal and went after remaining sprint points going head-to-head with Coburg’s Ben Pascall. Coming up to the second sprint, about 1km out, I could see Pascall at mid pack. I looked round for Mitch, and there he was, a hundred metres off the front on his own. Great tactic, I thought, hitting them early to discourage anyone to chase. Turns out he thought the 500m to go sign was the finish. Fkn. But he’s a mad dog, so he held on for the points.

Mitch rode like a boss.

After 40km out front solo, Duggan was brought back to the group not far before the little KOM (before the dirt climb). As we hit the climb, someone touched wheels mid-pack, right in front of Duggan and down he went. He was alright, and I waited at the top of the climb for him. I wasn’t going to help him when he was solo off the front, but if some muppet is gonna bring him down in the bunch you can be damn sure I’m gonna help my mate get back into the race. Of course, me (65kg whippet) helping Duggan (99% choc Big M) on a descent is kinda ridiculous.

At the bottom of the descent was a sharp right-hand corner. A dude 50m ahead of us took the corner too hot and went straight into the ditch. “Easy! Easy!” I slowed down and took the corner carefully, looking across to see the guy crawling out of the ditch a little dazed. Duggan had no idea, and had ripped up the inside and put 30m into me in a flash. Fuck, I’m trying to help you here mate! I gassed it back to him, got on the front, and drilled it as hard as I could for the next few kms till we hit the bottom of the dirt climb.

Look at that boo boo. Luckily avoided amputation.

Duggan then went about making up ground on the leaders. At this stage, Pascall, Slingsby and Cotterell got a gap off the front and were never seen again. I had Duggan pegged on the climb about 30m ahead of me. Then we hit the descent and he disappeared, bombing down like a madman.

Duggan:

Not. Fucking. Happy. Jan.

Nothing like getting up the road, scoring some points, feeling good when caught, then having someone shove a Giant TCR through your front spokes.

Bombing down the hill I could think of one thing - catching those fkn skinny climbers. I started descending my way through the bigger blokes who'd been shelled on the climb, politely informing them that this was a "race" and we weren't out of it yet. CARN. FULL FKN GAS, CUNCE.

Ended up with a reasonably strong group of 6 or so working well together. Bit slower than I'd like, but the group was working smoothly. We eventually rounded up Mitch and two partners in crime. As we passed the group the following exhange occurred and lols were had.

"YEOOOOOW - HEY MITCH! I'M FKN BACK CAAAAAAAARRRNNNTT!"
"FUCK YEAH!"
*air punching*

Our group of about 10 worked solidly to the very finish with Mitch sending some hang-ers on packing with some polite words at the back of the bunch. More lols at Mitch's persuasiveness were had.

With what we figured must be less than 10 up the road, we knew we had a shot to bring 'em back. We caught 5 riders with about 3 km to go, and to the tune of "OH MAAAN, WHAT THE FUCK!?" in response to Mitch's "FUCKING SMACK IT!" as we made the catch, the attacks started flying.

Mitch and I stayed out of trouble and even managed to have a squirt to finish 7th and 9th respectively about a minute behind Pascall, Slingsby and Cottrell who managed to stay away for a well deserved podium. I had managed to sew up the sprint jersey through my early breakaway shenanigans, so it was a pretty fun day out*.

Fuck it. Have a squirt. 

*sans the TCR in the front spokes

Back next year.

The lack of sympathy during treatment was astounding.

Dirt climbs and Dirtbags: 2013 Sam Miranda Road Race - B Grade

Words by Mat Gray...

I was certain that for the first 50kms had missed that B grade start and hooked onto the GrandFondo. Even the sprints were halfhearted attempts for points, but then again who really wants a subscription to some shit bike magazine?

The leisurely pace did give me a chance to finally find out what ZoomVideo is all about. Unfortunately, its not a place specialising in 80's movies that where only released on VCR, like Toy Soldiers. Its basically a Big Brother security system, that would protect your building/assets from graffiti hacks and underage no good drinking riffraff.

I miss videos.

Pre-race security footage provided by ZoomVideo

The 2nd Grand Fondo event of the day aka B Grade was travelling behind schedule, so it was decided to pull them over and let the Masters A take the road (an interesting thing I heard this week is in order to master a task you need to practice it for 10,000 hours, or 20hrs every week for ten years).

Our humble narrator stomping up the climb

We reached the bottom of the main 6km climb and the group having fresh legs smashed it up the dirt road. Jez got on the front and made it clear that the race was ready to start. Ransom (My Mountain) was chasing points and put in a solid effort wheeling over for second in KOM. There was a splintered peloton cresting the top.

There's a prize for anyone getting a photo of the Cross Boss not smiling whilst racing.

Hanging it out on the descent sounds like it was a banger in all grades, even the Grand Fondo got some strava records. At the bottom the race had split into an eight lead group and a 15-20 chase. Both groups worked well together on the 40km flat drag home. The eight held out to make a sprint out of the finish, with the main bunch pulling in two minutes later.

Sam Miranda is a banger of a race. Great venue and an awesome course. It be great if next year they ditch the handicap and run another RR and make a three day tour out of it.

ROOTS. BLOODY ROOTS.

This banger is for Nick Smith who moments after telling us he wants to be like us when he grows up, pointed out that he wasn't even born when this album came out.

So... we just ticked over 350 likes on the Facebook page and it got me thinking how ridiculous that is given we're just a bunch of hacks. I went back to our old blog which had it's first post on November 10th, 2010. Almost 3 years later and we're still pretty crap cyclists. Look good but!

My first combine race was the first race of the 2011 season. Pastoria. Our first, and last, D grade race. It also happened to be the first for Fonz, Kent, Dingus Dave, the Cross Boss, Gene, and Watson. Fonz won after the bunch split on the first ascent of Bald Hill with the aforementioned primarily making up the splinter group. We didn't know a great deal about each other at that stage, but shook hands and had a lol after the race.

Now, 3 years on, we're good mates, still racing together, and have collectively eaten about 10,000 Trippy Taco burritos in the gutter next to the shop after HCC crits on many a Wednesday eve. So much so that Kent recently went there in kit and they asked where we've been. I understand his response was: "It's fkn road season, cunce".

We're all still pretty stoked on the cycling scene in Melbourne. We've made a bunch of great mates through racing (except for that James Butler bloke - what a complete and utter gimp), and continue to do so. If you see our kit in the bunch, be sure to say g'day; and if you're thinking of attacking, do it because one of us will almost certainly come with you.

Blakey was at that Combine race taking pics. If ever you overhear us ragging on noobs for low socks or mismatched kit - remind us of these...

Pre race lols.

Sam de Bruin didn't pull a turn all day in the break.

Watson - what were you thinking? 

 

U19 Jez. Gene hasn't changed. Nice-kit-Kent.

/END SENTIMENTAL POST

2013 THREE DAY TOUR - B GRADE - STAGE 1

Words by The Fonz...

Racing as a team in a stage race is way more fun than the Internet makes it out to be!

The Macedon ranges are cold, really cold, and driving from Melbourne to Lancefield in a rusty old car that has no heater in the middle of winter is also really really cold. Rolling into Lancefield, with the temperature hovering just over 4 deg and clear skies, Matty Gray greets me with, ‘What are you even doing here? It's too cold for you!’. I couldn't answer...

The teams aspect in local racing, whilst officially forbidden, was obvious at this years three day tour. Saint Cloud Racing had 5 riders in the B grade bunch! Five! With that many riders we were pretty sure something exciting had to happen over the duration of the tour. Team Coburg looked very Euro in their fuchsia pink kit, clearly trying to take the title of the most handsome team away from Saint Cloud. Katsonis had even gone to the effort of adopting a trademark "Allen" moustache. The competition was clearly on before the race had begun! Team Bicycle Network Victoria also looked very dapper.

#dreamboat

The start of the first stage in a Northern Combine 3 day tour is a bizarre experience, no-one really wants to be on the front, the pace isn’t really that hot, and there are another three stages weighing on everyone’s mind. Stage one followed this description, for Saint Cloud Racing, our plan was to keep it together and let Steve ‘Mad Dog’ Duggan win the sprint for the stage and take the leaders jersey and the rest of us would drink beers.

This photo clearly illustrates that the pressure was on for most of the race

With the propensity of  Mitch ‘the moustache boss’ to became bored and hit the front of the bunch driving the pace, the plan was working pretty well, few serious breaks managed to form. But the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray, and ours was no exception, 15 km in Duggans unfortunate punny forced a change of plan; keep the bunch together making sure the race isn’t blown apart by a break - leaving Matt high in GC and then drink beers.

The stage ambled on according to plan B, no serious breaks with the most interesting aspect being the intriguing battle for KOM between Lynton Zawadzki (team Canard) and Fraser Short (italo-Australian). Lynton seemed to take the upper hand collecting the bulk of the points on offer.

The boys kept a close eye on Slingsby and Macauley - both strong  GC contenders

Saint Cloud friend, Chris Mason, kept the bunch together on the last KOM, and the race finished in a, as is typical, controversial bunch sprint. People diving across the lines, people yelling to keep left, mostly because they were annoyed that they were getting boxed in on the left. Without Duggan contesting the sprint, Saint Cloud was anonymous, tucking in the bunch, and rolling across the line.

Ed: "Did I win? Haven't seen that Duggan all day. Was he up the road?"

Jez ‘The Cross Boss’, Spiro, Mat and myself finished on the same time as the stage winner, skin intact. GC hopefuls all in contention. And so with stage one down, I got a Danny’s burger (double with the lot) and drank a beer.

RACE ON!