Friday, October 31, 2014

Cycling Claremont: Have a Haunting Halloween

y día de los muertos.

If you are riding in, or through, the Claremont Village this weekend, check out the Day of the Dead window displays (if you can still find one, there is a map of all of them) - they range from simple paintings to full on haunted dioramas. Unfortunately the window of Jacqueline's Home Decor  was too clean, and the reflection too vivid, to be captured on the spur of a moment, but their spooky interior may be the best.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Captain Mellow Checks In: Publicly Private, or Privately Public, or… hmmm

I contacted the Captain recently about some little political dilemma that was keeping me up at night. Though we didn't make much headway with that discussion, he did bring up some curious incidents from his daily comings and goings.

The first incident, however, began with a simple debate about the meaning of privacy. It seems the Captain has become confused as of late over the definitions of public and private. Many people seem to be mixing the two these days, or getting the respective meanings of the words turned completely around. In particular he couldn't understand why people would store nude photos of themselves, on their phone-like things, their computer-type devices, and other what nots. He was especially surprised by the reactions of these very same people who proceeded to feign shock and outrage when said "nudies" made sudden coming out appearances across the interwebs. The Captain does not believe he is the least bit prudish, and pointed out that he rides around in public wearing nothing but a thin sheen of lycra most days of the week as evidence, but was quick to point out that unless someone is seeking attention, "nudies" are best kept privately out of sight.

From there we moved on to incident number one: It seems the Captain had to pick up his progeny from a night time event at the local school recently. This necessitated driving, something which (and I did not know this) the Captain does from time to time. As he turned onto a long straight-away of a street, another driver came rushing up behind him and proceeded to drive on the Captain's bumper for the length of the street (about a mile). For clarification, the Captain noted that this is a collector street, lined with houses on both sides, on which the speed limit is twenty-five miles per hour. Just as the Captain was about to reach the end of this street where he would turn to reach his destination, the driver of the following car abruptly turned into a driveway and gave a nasty honk of the horn. As much as he hated to admit it, this perturbed the Captain to no end, and so he stopped and slammed the transmission into reverse.

When he yelled out the window what the problem was, the Captain was berated for driving on that particular street rather than going out of the way to take a parallel major street, which would have added extra distance and time to his journey. The Captain was understandably taken aback, as this was a street that he frequently rides on, and was unaware that, at least in the eyes of this one local resident, had at some point in time become a private thoroughfare upon which no one else was welcome. Initially the Captain believed that this person was angry about being forced to drive the speed limit, but after some back and forth yelling and accusations he realized that this person was just as perturbed by his mere use of the street. The old "this is my street, MY STREET, I tells ya." Quite typical, actually, people feeling more entitled to a public space they have come to view as their own.

The Captain, who has always been too Mellow to have ever been a member of a debate team, and therefore lacks the training to come up with quick retorts, failed to recognize the hypocrisy of it all until later. Yes, the local resident, who lived at the very end of the street, drove the entire length of it rather than taking some other nearby, though still out of the way, major street just as the Captain did. No different. Clearly this person believed that they had more right to the public street, simply because their private front door opened onto it.

Anywho, the back and fourth degenerated into mostly incomprehensible yells and invectives, until the Captain decided enough was enough, that the debate was going now where, and anyway he had people waiting for him.

It was about this point in the conversation that I informed the Captain that the incident and reaction was especially un-mellow-like. He shrugged his shoulders, and offered no defense.

From there we moved on to the second incident. While admitting that the first was an anomaly, the second he believes is more general and insidious - the use of public roadways as private racecourses with no concern for the well-being of any other users. The Captain was out for a ride one day on a street with a slight downslope. He was feeling good and let the wheels freely spin, picking up speed incrementally with each rotation. As he approached an intersection where he was going to make a right turn at speed (the light being green), he positioned himself to take full use of a right turn only lane. A hundred feet from the turn an SUV came around and in front of him. The Captain (by now, formerly known as Mellow) gave the driver 'the glare' for making him slow down before the turn, and was about to mutter some invectives under his breath when a second car gunned its little engine, passing both the Captain and the SUV, which was by then a mere ten feet from the turn, and slammed into the same turn cutting across the line of the SUV and missing its front bumper by inches. The momentum carried the car across three lanes of roadway; how the driver avoided running up onto the grassy median, and in fact across it into oncoming traffic, let alone flipping all together, the Captain does not know. 

Though the Captain could only see the back of the SUV in front of him, he easily imagined a multitude of incredulous countenances, wide eyes, gaping mouths, perhaps even some racing hearts belonging to those within view of the foolishness. He muttered "geez, what an idiot" at the same time ten others nearby did, and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. Clearly some people don't realize that the street is a public space, and that certain norms, rules and personal behaviors are required to limit chaotic use. What is it that makes some people ignore those at the risk of, not only their own well being, but of others around them as well?

Before I knew it an hour had passed and it was time to say adios. It was past time to get on with some kind of ride of discovery of my own, for I had new thoughts to ponder, observations to make, and theories to explore.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Midweek C&V: Lotus Super Pro Aero

This Lotus dates to the same time as the SR Bicycle that was equipped with Shimano 600 AX components of which I posted at the old blog. The frame is formed with Tange CroMo tubes and have that distinct airfoil shape. As you will note, the tubes were joined with filet brazing. The Super Pro Aero model was the peak of the Lotus line and would have come equipped with Shimano's top offering - the Dura Ace AX groupset. As their top offering, this Lotus would have come complete with tubular rims, thus the clincher rims on the bike shown here, are clear replacements. The sparkle gold paint was the only color offered at first, but in 1983 Lotus offered the bike in Raspberry Pink as well. If you are interested in what the complete build would have been, check this link at; there is more information, plus and handy chart of the components.

I intended to have this post done a couple months ago. In a way, though, the delay worked out even better as I can now use it as a segue - I saw this one at the Bicycle Aficionado Bike Swap in August; there will be two more swaps this year, the next on November 16th ... like it on Facebook to keep up on any relevant news.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Monday Blues: More, More Gios

Gios Gress via Interbike

Blue: A color, a mood or emotion, a genre of music. Tune in each Monday for another installment of the Blues, with a cycling twist.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

2014 SpookyCross: Ghoulishly Challenging

scared the bejesus out of me, but the racers seemed unconcerned

The annual Spookycross race has, over the years, become the most popular CX race in Southern California. Maybe it has always been that way. The theme, the ever-popular costumed race, the twilight and night-time events, combine to give it an extra dose of festivity. Add to that this year was a course that I had never been to - a hillside above Irvine Lake. The hillside included some plateau areas for those familiarly torturous turns. The run-up was there, the barriers also, and sand. A lot of sand. Seas of sand. And pea gravel - which is almost as bad as sand. Tight turns quickly became chewed up and had riders sliding out each lap. A long (well long in cyclocross terms) and slow climb, was naturally paired with an equally long, and fast descent. Spooks and apparitions materialized out of the dark, floated close to the passing riders. The setting sun case ever lengthening shadows across skulls and gravestones. Children waved flags and cheered on their mothers, fathers, and hoped that they would finish before the night, the creeping darkness closed in.

mind the gap

men's 'C' racers snake their way downhill



Amanda Nauman races along the top of the course

a spook drifting across her path, Nauman races to another victory on the bell lap

the guys from Fullerton Bikes certainly like to hop the barriers

a Spy rider drifts along the edge of this sea of sand


If you have tuned in here for this Spookycross post, you have probably looked at race posts here before. You may have noticed that I favor photos with deep shadowing. I like the contrast between light and dark, the drama, and the mood that contrast evokes. As you can guess, Spookycross bridging the hours between afternoon and night, presents an especially good opportunity to capture moments with that effect. If you jump to the Flickr album of 151 select photos from this years race, you will notice plenty of photos similar to that of the fourth photo above - the Tru Cycling racer eyeing his way through a turn. I know the deep shadows are not to everyone's taste; if you like your photos all lit-up there are plenty of those around, and I am sure you know were to find them. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Speedplay or Mutant Turtles?

When this photo / blog post first popped up on the reading list, my immediate thought in that initial flash of time and image, had absolutely nothing to do with Speedplay pedals or even cycling. Instead it was, oh Donatello, the purple-wearing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Full photo at Ventouza Cycling Club.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Dead Calm Headwind

It is a rare day indeed when I make it out to the San Gabriel River Trail and discover a reflection of earth and sky due to the placid flow of water. But this is the view I was greeted with this morning. I could probably look back through the blog to uncover when the river last had water in its channel, but I won't. I will simply revel in the fact that at this moment it does yet again.

- < > -

It was right about mile fourteen that I started to feel the, seemingly, non-existent headwind. A couple miles earlier, a change in direction had brought that old nemesis and I face to face. Why must it always challenge me in this way? Tri-Tom flew by me in his best tuck, heading the opposite direction; Tri-Tom moving that quickly must mean he has a nice tailwind and, I thought terrific, the battle commences. My speed slowed considerably - two, three miles per hour - though the effort I was putting into moving forward had increased. I didn't really want to at this point, but I shifted into an easier gear and rose up onto the pedals to reclaim some momentum. It worked for a bit, but only that much and certainly no more. Solo riding - all work, all the time. Anyway, a couple miles of that and I began the inevitable side to side look at the trees and shrubs. Nothing. No movement at all. With evidence like that the air should have been dead calm. It was a rookie mistake, and one I fall for every time - using the trees to discern the strength of the wind. Deceptive SOBs and their dirty tricks.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Upcoming: Breaking Away in SLO

photo from the SLO IFF website

If you happen to be up in the San Luis Obispo area, or find yourself up there this weekend, first of all consider yourself lucky, because that is not a bad place to wake up in the morning and find yourself. Second, consider checking out Saturday's feature of the San Luis Obispo International Film Festival - yes, it is Breaking Away. 2014 marks the thirty-fifth anniversary of the films' release (1979) and in celebration the showing will be marked with a special guest appearance by Dennis Christopher.

It may be too late to see the first film in this particular 'coming of age' themed series (the Goonies is almost as good as Breaking Away), but the third film of the trio will show in November - the silent film Daddy Long Legs featuring live accompaniment by Maria Newman and the Malibu Silent Film Orchestra. 

Some good stuff taking place not too far away. Thanks Wendy, for the heads up on this one.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

How to Wear a Cycling Cap: The Women of SWAT

Alright, I confess, I didn't know what SWAT stood for. I think I may have known once, but don't remember. I just don't know. The why-memorize-incidentals-when-you-can-just-look-them-up mentality, has been taken a bit too far, I suppose. Now I can't seem to remember what bike I rode yesterday. But hey, I can look it up. Anyway, SWAT have had an especially visual, vocal and even, musical presence at the CX races this season, so I also confess I was curious to refresh my memory. As we awaited our orders at the food truck last Sunday, I could have asked la femme, who selected the comfy looking boulder next to my own granite choice, or rather I could have fake-asked the question, as I had already checked the interwebs.

SWAT - She Wolf Attack Team

For the longest time, it seems, you would rarely gaze upon a woman wearing a cycling cap. I am talking about the '80s and '90s now. Maybe part of that was because most women rode in different circles than my own. Maybe they didn't want to muss up their hair. Maybe they thought caps were too cyclist. Whatever. I don't know. Lately, I have been seeing them more and more, from the ladies on the local rides, to those on the race circuit. Maybe it is because more women are doing the competitive thing these days. Maybe worries about mussed hair is only for dilettantes and sissy girls. Maybe there is no such thing as too cyclist. Anyway, the women of SWAT, with their DIRT FOO jersey/shirts, have the cap wearing art nailed, and look like they are having a lot of fun while doing it.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Cycling Claremont: Studio Art Hall, Pomona College

The most recently completed building at the Colleges - this one on the Pomona College campus - is the Studio Art Hall. The hall is like a little village collected under a single protective roof. That roof plus the cantilever upper level and the obvious exterior staircase make it seem like the building hovers over the ground. The sense is compounded in the areas where you can walk under the upper level, such as seen in the top photo. The rooms revolve around a central court, open to the sky. From the courtyard you look up at the exposed structure of the roof and its patterned forms. It adds an element of interest in contrast to the plain blue of the sky. Another interesting contrast is of the numerous materials used - concrete, glass, metal, wood.

I didn't step into the building, but can imagine the studios are quite light-filled. The building includes a lower level gallery, though I didn't notice any reference to its hours of operation. Next you ride through the campus check it out - there are many interesting lines and angles - for instance view along the north face of the building (unfortunately, perhaps the most uninteresting facade) to the old, whited-domed observatory. I am not sure how the design of the ground plane relates, but the alternating bands of concrete and plant material is an interesting contrast in its own way. Currently there is a display of student art projects, various objects made from cardboard, scattered around the site.

The Cycling Claremont series of posts highlight some of the local businesses and points of interest I have been known to frequent because I like what they offer, because they are bicycle friendly, or because they provide something unique or interesting, and which visitors to Claremont may also like.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

2014 Krossto-beer-fest, Or Crying Over Spilt Ale

Before I venture any further with coverage of todays race, I want to recognize the exploits of one individual in particular. This one racer, dressed all in Helen's orange, had an exceptionally fine-tuned beer radar, beerdar if you will. On the other hand, if it was not instinct that saw him take the beer line on each lap, maybe it was simply opportunism or, more likely cross-smarts. If that latter reasoning was the case, then he was clearly the smartest racer on the course at the time. I mean, unless you were racing for a podium spot and would be guzzling out of the winners' stein from the top step, this was your best shot at free brew all day. Without doubt he must have won the Most Likely to Recognize a Good Opportunity When He Sees It award in high school. If Miss H&S Bicycles had not run out of beer, or the race run out of laps, there surely would have been more than just the three photos below. Anyway man, well done, and ein prosit.

first pass

second pass

third pass

Will beer, in fact, keep you pedaling? If Miss H&S Bicycles is to be believed, the answer would be a definitive yes. She argued most enthusiastically for the carb-loading benefits of a mid-race beverage, and was quite successful in swaying many passers-by over to her side of the debate. Or wait, is there a debate?

 For now I want to take a minute and turn to the podium. I don't often get around to the podium since the awards tend to be given out while other racing is going on. This time, however, I managed both. I got shots of some men's podiums and then some women's podiums. All the while there was this guy standing next to me who was clearly having a hard time - his muscles were twitching, he was making nervous sounds, and comments about waste. He would close his eyes, look away, but always refocus on the podium with wide eyes. You see, all the while beer was dripping, and spilling, and splashing from cups, mugs, steins, and bottles. This guy was really on edge and barely under control. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and dashed to the podium where he lay at the steps and let the amber liquid cascade into his mouth. It was Krosstoberfest, and the beer was freely flowing. And spilling.

I know what you are thinking right about now, you're thinking "what is this? This post has nothing to do with cyclocross racing. It's just about beer." What you have to understand is that for some people the two go hand in hand - you can't have the one without the other. I promise that once the Flickr album is ready there will be plenty of non-beer related photos.

From the hundreds of photos, I narrowed the selection to 142 - click here for the album.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Riding Through Spooky Hollow

The spectre let out a moan. It was not the first time her angst had become unbearable, but what was intended as a sigh, released as a howl, one filled with regret, overflowed with longing. She understood that the living could neither hear nor see her, yet she had the uncomfortable impression that this one had picked up on her plaintive cry; a quick swivel of a head in her direction, the face revealing surprise and suppressed anxiety, as evidence. She had seen the look before, but always as a reaction to the sound of some unseen animal scurrying through the underbrush. This time was different, the canyon quiet and still. The living possessed a wonderful gift in imagination. Yet that ability, which often made life more interesting, could hamper and stifle that same life when it took a more dark and surreal turn. These moody woods fostered that turn, especially when the day was dark with overhanging gloom. When fog or clouds pressed down from above, they smothered the brightness and light. Her mood darkening as the shadows faded from existence.

She was not sure how she came to inhabit these woods, or why or when, though she recalled thinking, long ago, that it seemed like an eternity. There was no measure of time here, none that she was familiar with. The black limbs of trees, crooked and scabrous, never seemed to change. They reached from the ground, clawing their way from the confining dirt. She often thought they were trying to escape this place, but as far as she could tell none ever did. Their imprisonment was the same as her own. As she drifted from hollow to hollow, she would sometimes come upon one with broken back, splintered bones abruptly white against the dark skin. That she could not recall a shattered form at this spot told her time was passing, but the movement was invisible to her.

Occasionally she sensed the presence of other forms like her, but there was never any contact with them. How could there be. She wasn't sure if they suffered the same confinement she did, or if they were able to pass from this place to somewhere else. This place? There was a vague familiarity to these woods, though the word familiarity seemed inadequate. She remembered a word - memory - but she could picture nothing before this existence, and so she sufficed with familiarity, hazy and ephemeral as it was. That seemed appropriate and she could think of no reason for it to be otherwise.

Some nearby ravens made that bone rattling sound deep in their throats. She had come to recognize this as their way of creating mischief; it startled some of the living, frightened others. The ravens were different, though, from the other denizens of this place. All the other animals existed in some shadowy form, they slunk or scurried here and there, seeming to be as unaware of her as were the living. After all, they occupied the same world. In contrast, the ravens were clear and sharp of form, from every curve of every feather, to the crook of every talon, to the depth at the center of their eyes. She suspected this was because they, somehow, could pass between worlds - that of the living, and the one in which she existed. The first time raven flew into her space she was curious, yet shocked and in some way frightened, by the suddenness of their trespass. Eventually, though, she came to welcome their appearance, to look forward to their, what she called, visits. They could see her when no one and nothing else could. They were her one comfort, her one pleasure.

That is until the pain began. More than familiarity, this was memory - clear and unmistakable memory which caused a surge of anguish. Why it suddenly appeared to her, she could not guess at. A rider passed before her as she sat beside the stream (though she couldn't quite be sure sitting is what she was actually doing), and in that instant she saw herself. It was just a flash, a brief moment of brilliant  color before the muted shades of her existence clamped back down. From that first passing she had become increasingly afflicted by the memory. Once again, she recognized the inadequacy of her place of existence, for the word affliction was grossly incapable of describing the depth of the pain and longing she felt. The feelings intensified each time she saw a passing rider until they became unbearable, her moans lost to all but the suddenly indifferent ravens. Or so she believed. What was this place that it created such longing, and why did the longing cause such torment?

The woods through which the trails of Spooky Hollow hide much in their shadowy recesses, much that our mortal eyes are incapable of seeing. Something to give thought to the next time you ride through when the day is like twilight.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

How to Wear a Cycling Cap: Imerio Massignan

With the brim up.

Massignan was a noted Italian climbing specialist, who raced as a professional between 1959 and 1969. In that time he captured the Mountains title at the Tour de France twice (1960, 1961), and claimed eight top ten overall finishes at the Tour and Giro, the highest being 2nd at the 1962 Giro d'Italia. A standout among the pantheon of epic battles of the Giro d'Italia was the first ascent of the Passo di Gavia in 1960, the first time the climb featured in the race. Jacques Anquetil, five-time champion of the Tour de France was there. Rik Van Looy, counted among the greatest climbers of all time was there. Charly Gaul, nicknamed the Angel of the Mountains for his grace in climbing was there. Gastone Nencini, with two earlier mountain stage wins already under his belt was there. Each of those greats, all but Gaul, withered in their turn. The road in 1960 was still unpaved and the melting snow on the pass's steep slopes had created a slippery quagmire with grades up to 17%. Undaunted, Massignan attacked the accomplished Gaul, pulling away with each turn of the wheel. The first puncture set him back, all the more because he had to change the flat himself. Pushing on, the second puncture set him back yet again, this time for good. A heroic effort, though, saw him finish as runner-up, only fourteen seconds back of Gaul. 

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Time and the Thin Edge

I would not say that the stretch of dirt maintenance road where I stopped to snap this photo is indicative of Powerline, neither is it far off the mark. The opening third is more rocky, its surface marred with sand traps, there is even a pseudo stream crossing - not that I have ever seen water flowing through it. Last evening I decided to switch things up a little, head out on the cross bike, rather than the roadie, allow me to ride a little dirt and gravel. While I will often tack Powerline, and the trail beside Thompson Creek Trail, onto the end of a local mountain bike loop, it was the first time to have ridden either on a less beefy rig. 

I am still dialing in the cross bike, discovering and adjusting to its geometry and the nuances in the way it handles. Mostly I spun along the thin edge separating loosely-in-control from careening-wildly-out-of-control. Slipping from one side to the other allowed me to pick up speed and weave between rocks on the one hand, and forced me to squeeze the brakes and shake like a dachshund on the other. Bouncing from rock to rock, sliding through sand and gravel, it was the conditions of the trail that determined my line ninety percent of the time, not me. Clearly I need to move that percentage more in my favor, something that is going to take practice, miles of riding under similar conditions, time, and an entirely new way of thinking about riding a bike.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Upcoming: Pumpkins, Death Rides, and Velodromes

No connection, or none that I am aware of, just three events of interest that I wanted to make special note of: 

First up is the Pomona Pumpkin Patch Pedal which rides, this Sunday, from downtown Pomona to the Pumpkin Festival at Cal Poly. We would go to the Festival every years, when my son was of an age. It has been a few years now, so I can't vouch that it is the same, but there was a massive field littered with pumpkins you could wander through, looking for just the right one, there were games, food, the farm store, and I don't remember what all else. Oh, I remember now - fun, there was a lot of fun. The Pedal, hosted by the Pomona Valley Bike Coalition is, of course, a better way to get to the Festival because it allows you to avoid the campus parking hassle. 

If you fail to get your fill of climbing this weekend during the El Grande Fondo de Los Angeles Crest and want some more the following Saturday, check into the Deer Creek Death Ride.

And then the following weekend the Los Angeles Grand Prix is returning to the Velo Sports Center. If you have never seen Sarah Hammer circle the track during competition, it is worth it to go there one night just for that. She can rev it up like few others.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

2014 Velocity Cross: Happy Happy, Fun Fun

I suppose there is an advantage to being less well known in the blogosphere - it means not having to suffer the slings and arrows of race announcers. Poor Seth Davison took some ridicule today - the suggestion being tossed out that maybe someone could provide a little assistance, helping him to lift his bike over the barriers.

But that was later in the day, the old guys were on the course and well, l you know how it is. A couple laps into a race, a couple laps during which the grass conspires to suck every half mile per hour of hard-earned speed from your wheels, as it sucks your legs dry of energy, an older guy might very well look around for some help, or at least a little sympathy. Not that there is much chance of finding a sympathetic spectator at a cross race.

once again Amanda Nauman graces the top step of a cyclocross podium

There was a little organizational change at Velocity Cross - this year's race was not a part of the Southern California Prestige Series, but rather served as the kickoff race in the Spyclocross Series. Other than that, though, everything was pretty familiar, from the host team - Team Velocity, to the venue - Prado Regional Park, to the course layout - the series of stepped athletic fields. 

Fog. It was still settled over and into Prado Basin on this early morning, a condition which made the fragrance rising from the surrounding dairy lots all the more pungent. The sheen on the grass was yet to evaporate, the sparkle still to be ground out by the passing of tire and tread. Yet even at this early hour the paths of racers was unmistakable - here and there dark tracks sliced through the silver, some single tracks, others wide swaths of unknown number. It did not take much, a single passing through that moisture to cause a mat to form on tires, between treads, a shaggy, but slick, beard of green. Of course, this is inland and the fog does not hang out long, even in this low-lying basin. Only the earliest races, the Juniors and Cat 4 Women would have to deal with the dew. By the time the oldest Juniors came out, as well as the single-speeders, at about 10:00, the sun had been out for a couple hours, the ground was mostly dry, and the day well on its way to warming up.

The day. It progressed like a Japanese game show - Happy Happy, Fun Fun. Repeat it as a mantra over and over and it might come true. Even the Spy banners encouraged the sentiment - See Happy, See Happy. Falter in the conviction, lose faith, or even forget to pack it with your kit and shoes to begin with, and you were bound to suffer. The 180º changes in direction, the grass, the infield dust, the off-camber turns, the speed of competition, the dismounts, running, leaping, cyclocross has its own hells to ensnare you if you weaken in resolve.

The Elite Women's race was an amazing one to witness, not for the closeness of battle, but to see how far Amanda Nauman could extend her lead. She is such a phenomenal and powerful racer, and right now is racing in an outrageously dominant fashion. And I don't say that lightly - consider the competition, the racers taking their places on the 2nd and 3rd steps of the podium. Christina Probert-Turner has been well-placed in Southern California's cyclocross races for as long as I have been following them. Holly Breck regularly claims that top step in Southern California's road and mountain bike racing scenes. Neither should be underestimated, yet here was Nauman pulling further away with each completed lap.

The third weekend of the season is on record now, and though the weather will (hopefully) begin to cool down soon, I expect the racing will only heat up. Click for the Flickr album of a selection of 108 photos.


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