The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing Race

One more Big Granite under the belt and one more year wondering both how this race stays alive and how in the world did it ever end up in the middle of nowhere? Sorry Ashland fans – adjacent to the middle of nowhere. The answers are fairly simple; the race is dying and this may have been it’s last hurrah. As for its location it seems that nine years ago a gentleman in town thought is was a good idea, he liked skating and he knew how to make it happen. As things would have it from that beginning when over 500 skaters braved a black bear sighting on the course the race has been shrinking ever since. I’ve skated 6 of the nine Big Granites and have looked forward to its challenging hills, both up and down almost more than any other race. Next year however, without an angel, Big Granite may be no more. With attendance at an all-time low, roughly 75 skaters, the death knell is ringing. But there’s plenty of time to get blue in the face, this year’s trip up north was still just as much fun as any trip to Duluth.

While the weatherman was being very unfriendly to the Chicagoland area with floods and hail and power outages, we headed north into ever clearing skies. As the hours rolled on Jim M. began to get the hang of how fast he needed to move so as not to be left behind during our pit stops. By the time we reached Ashland the skies were clear, the wind gently blowing, and the temps were about 80. We first stopped in at race central to pick up our race packs and got the bad word about the low attendance.

Next it was off to see whether my motel pick would make me the brunt of every joke for the rest of the weekend. Would it be the cat-piss motel or wouldn’t it? Well the office was anything but hygienic smelling, what with three dogs running around, but the rooms where fine, though the mattresses were the loudest I have ever slept on. You know that race night toss and turn thing we all do? Ear shattering to say the least, earning the motel the new name of “Crust Motel” Good coffee but very short on hospitality when came to checkout.

Once again this year the team dinner was rudely interrupted by free alcohol. Last year it was a round of pink “wheel sucker” shots, this year a couple of tall heavily laced lemonade “wheel suckers.” Once again the sendees had no idea who the sender might be. Though half the way through these drinks I’m not sure we cared who the f sent them. Actually I can’t remember anything else about dinner.

Yes, Big Granite is a tough course and while the pavement is mostly in great shape those first few miles are spent climbing and as always my body was yelling at me all the way to the first left hand turn. Thank the wind gods, the head wind is now only a quartering head wind yet up another hill or two we go ‘til it seemed the body just wasn’t going to make it. But there we were suddenly at the second left hand turn and at the top of the course. We passed the offered water bottles without stopping and headed down wind and slightly down hill. The legs started getting into the swing of things and it was just about at this point I noticed that Ken Huss and I had dropped Guy at an undisclosed location and picked up Cheri, a WI skater I believe. Ken, Cheri and I took pretty much equal turns pulling and most times when the leader pulled off they were spent and needed everything they had to hang on to the back of our small pack.

Ken led us into the big downhill and accelerated a bit going into it. I took it easy at top knowing that Ken wasn’t going to go too far without two thirds of his pack. As is often the case I was a bit more stable the second time down the hill. Most of the rest of the race was fairly uneventful right up until three young bucks caught up with us with two miles to go. Prior to that our group had swollen to five as we picked up two skaters a guy and a gal, with Cheri, they were the number two and three women in the pro/advanced race. The young bucks, leaders of the fitness category, promptly took over the lead of our pack and start playing leader games, standing up, pulling out and jumping back in, only they lacked the talent to play these games safely. Well one of the bozos jumped back into the pace line knocking the other gal in our pack off her skates but thankfully into the grass very likely changing the outcome of the women’s race.

The field sprint was as surprising to me as anyone. Over my last few races I’ve had a bit of sprint building in me and I was able to hold off most challengers at the finish line for a fine final 100 yards. Though I have been cutting it a bit close on my goals; I said I would be fine with anything under 1:30; remember Big Granite is a tough course. When I made it over to the results board it had me at 1:29:16. Good thing I sprinted at the end or I wouldn’t have made my time goal. The day was essentially won by Rainbo’s own Gary Blank. Seemingly out of nowhere, the unknown Gray sits at the front of the lead pack, pulling for most of the race and in the end he wins the field sprint to take second over all. Great job Gary.


The drive home was mostly uneventful; the usual 90 mph drive time lengthened by the van slowing down to a sane and sensible 85. The usual stories from Cale with the usual response from Jan and Guy, the eating of the skittles and the super human bladder control of our fearless team leader.

What then can be done to save Big Granite? More skaters with a love of good skating. Come on skaters, let’s help them make it a full ten years. Hope to see you there next year.

Back to the Dome… without the Dread

Here we go again, back to the scene of the grind. Three years ago I took the trip to the dome, only to be humbled by the 71 laps and the pace set by my teammates. This year would turn out to be a different trip altogether. First off I moved up to shotgun from back bench seat in the team "party van." That seat allows the occupant free access to peruse Cale's expansive collection of "Best of" music CD's from the golden age of "Best of" CD's - 1959 to 1979. (Can you say "Folk Rock" anyone?)

The event, as always, is well run and continues to be the best venue for spectator participation of any race I've been to. First thing in the morning is the pro and advanced individual time trial. Margo and I arrived from breakfast about 20 laps into the race. With Team Rainbo racers passing our viewing point every minute to minute and a half we followed their unfolding race stories in 10 second snippets as leads changed, packs where dropped or formed, and as individual heroics unfolded. In the best spirit of the sport Coach Dave, in his first marathon and while clearly toast, more than twice took faster Rainbo skaters under his wing and pulled outstanding laps to give his team mates a rest and a fling around the dome. We could see from our vantage point that he close to halved his average lap time during these late race laps draining himself of the ability to finish strong, but putting Cale, Gary and Steve-O in better positions overall. Fabulous job Dave.

Come the afternoon it's time for the Team Time Trial event where 5 person teams work together for their best possible time. Four members of each time need to complete the 71 laps together in order for the team to complete the course. Coming into this event I carried the memory of being the weak link in a five person team and I was determined not to let that happen again this year. Three years makes a big difference and I'm skating much stronger now so for me the event went without a hitch. We finished within our window of hopeful probability between 1:25 and 1:30 (actual time 1:29:53). ;-) So all is golden. We decided from the start that Team Pain was not going to win the day, what with Cale having skated the individual time trial earlier, John not having the hi-tech wheels for best performance on the slick coated concrete floor and Kevin not having skated since September.

The random staggered starting order placed us forth so we were off quickly and racing. A wonderful feature this year was the addition of our support team/pit captain. Dirk, fresh from a PB in the advanced event kept lap times throughout and kept track of our remaining laps as it came down to finishing. Thanks Dirk, that was such a help. We put together a good skating order based on height so this big 6'1" windbreaker didn't have to sit out in the wind all day. We switched it up a bit later in the race as I was skating strong and, I'm told, it is such a pleasure to skate behind me and out of the wind.

Dirk kept us honest by calling out lap times and encouragement. We held pretty close to our 70-74 second per lap goal; even with our having to skate most of the day out away from the wall. The left lane being the passing lane we where moved out to circle wide almost every lap. I really think we skated 30 miles to everyone else's 26.2 due to the wider course, still though we were within our target time.

Closing in on two thirds though the race Team Pain made its move. Kevin being hit by leg cramps in the calf, and John's need to work extra hard due to his wheels forced both skaters to push through incredible odds to finish with the team. Cale by far took the lion's share of the pulling and I was proud to be able to get up there and pull multiple laps in a row late in the game. All in all it was a positive attitude that we were all going to finish together, no matter how much it hurt someone, that kept us together. And hurt it did, John was in a panic to get to a garbage can after the finish as he puked out his answer to Team Pain. He gave the ultimate sacrifice, lunch. I'm happy for my accomplishment but prouder of my teammates who pushed through to beat Team Pain; in the end time mattered less than teamwork.

As I mentioned Cale signed up to complete two marathons in one day, what he didn't realize was he was going to complete a third before we arrived home. Half way through Wisconsin, it began to blizzard. Snow blowing horizontal across the highway for hour after hour. We were reduced to driving less than 30 mph, hear that all Rainbo van riders, Cale was driving at less than 30 mph!! Add to that the windshield wipers clogging with snow and streaking, not clearing, the windshield and you'll know how much we needed "The Greatest Folk Hit's of the 50's and 60"s" for Cale to sing along with. Still sitting shotgun I helped watch for when the lane markers would show through the snow so we could stay on the road. We saw spinouts, cars on their sides, fire trucks, tow trucks, an SUV turn 90 degree to the direction of traffic right in front of us all as the party van plowed its slow and steady course back home. By the Illinois line the snow had turned to rain and we felt like we were flying by driving 60 mph.

All in all another great social and sportive weekend with the team. Go Rainbo!

Optimism trumps the day, A2A 2008

It should have be obvious from the start that the optimism and high spirits of my car ride from Atlanta into Athens with the Starykowiczs, and Starkowicz-to-be, Daniel would be what it took for me to leg out my third best time in seven successful 87-mile, A2A adventures. Truly this event is beyond racing, this is traveling. Our ride the day before the race was filled with jokes, stories and plans for races to come. All thought of pain and endurance was put on hold as the rolling countryside succumbed to the flattening effect of riding in an SUV.

Each year there seems to be a small but ever-changing cadre of Team Rainbo members showing up to test themselves against the Georgian, hills, heat and headwind and this year was no exception. This year was slightly different as there were no novices among us. Half this crew of skaters, Pete Starykowicz and Marcy Turek, came to show what they were made of. Tom Grosspietsch and I came to hold what we were made of together. For me this would be the challenge of the day as having taken a serious, helmet-smashing fall a week earlier, I was on race morning still experiencing bouts of dizziness. Had I also not been fighting the remains of a head cold I might have rethought attacking the 40 mph downhills lurking throughout the course while also struggling to control my equilibrium.


Be that as it may I came to the starting line with a shit-eating grin of determination as Tom and I tried to buck each other up. Not even Eddy in a bee costume, which he wore through the first ten yards of the race, lightened the mood much. I promised to stay with Tom and finish together then promptly dropped him after the zigzag route out of Athens. Sorry Tom. A few miles out of town is where the pace lines really settle into a nice groove and this is where you can tell if you are with the right group or not. Usually there will be a split and several will go off the front. It’s here where I realized Tom was not with me and here where the low registration numbers really began to show. Whereas two years ago this group would have been 35-50 skaters we were less than 20. There were no splits larger than one or two people and they kept being swallowed up.



What was really odd, and it must have taken me more than an hour to figure out, was that nobody could climb the hills. I pride myself in being able to skate slow up hill so as not to expend too much energy but these folks, from all over the country were almost standing still. What finally clued me in were the downhills. I needed to tuck down way below the person in front of me to maintain my position. What was the issue? My tiny 100 mm wheels! Everyone else was on 110’s and shooting downhill at breakneck speeds, I’m sure the 50 mph barrier has been broken on Silverhill; those suckers are fast. However, few people it seems have the strength to push those 110’s uphill. Against all my previous experience I had to pull out of the pack to causally skate uphill all the while passing the pace line as they struggled.

Somewhere in the first hour there came a familiar constant chatter from the pack and I knew we had picked up Bob Harwell, in fact everyone knew we had picked up Bob as he is skating’s number two ambassador of good will right after Eddy Matzger and barely edging out George Quinn. From then on Bob and I skated all but the last ten miles together. After the 38 mile break we had a nice group which withered down to sometimes one or two other skaters. However once the 52 milers started to show up on the road, you can tell them by their fresh legs, Bob kept up a steady diet of “trying-to-hang-on” at some point that became too rich for my blood, and thankfully most times Bob would drop off and I’d slowly reel him back in. At about mile 75 a Columbian skater caught us on a short steep incline that has bested me every year – read that as I “run” up the grass on the side of the road – he says, “ Keep your head up, come on we can work together and catch up.” Catch up to what I’m thinking. I believe I swore at him, but I’m getting ahead of myself.


Earlier in the day I still had to deal with the dizziness thing and the lack of confidence I was felling because of it. As I mention the downhills were very fast and there are two in particular early on that are the stuff of nightmares. The first is a gentle downhill that gradually gets steeper over almost a two mile stretch. By the bottom you are really hauling ass and this year the pavement near the bottom has been roughed up a bit. I can tell you my head was having none of this after about a mile. Luckily for me my 100 mm wheels meant I could uncrouch a touch a fall back. BUT NO, coming right behind me was another train and soon I was being pushed downhill by any number of folks on faster, bigger wheels. So I waved them to my right and I moved left. Clear, simple instructions, yes? Well I guess not as the whole line moved left with me. So I signaled them to go left and moved right. You guessed it; again the hand was right there on my back and throughout this dance we are all accelerating. I revert to yelling instructions to the fellow behind me, practically giving him my medical history before I can escape the train and calm the sense of vertigo. Of course by this time we’re at the bottom of the hill and the train rushes half way up the next hill on its own momentum. It’s early however so I don’t realize they can’t climb so I chase after them only to overshoot almost the whole line.

The next scary big downhill is later in the skate than I remember and it sneaks up on me such that I don’t realize I’m on it until two thirds of the way down. Unremarkable but for the fact that this hill has a 90 left hand turn at the bottom and I’m just noticing that fact with total disbelieve almost as I enter the turn. Do I tuck to get a better turning radius? No. I shout “on your left” and “coming over” as I slide from the left hand lane into the center of the road. Fortunately, everyone else was either too scared to head down at full speed or sliding sideways with me so we all made it through. Why I have never encountered oncoming traffic at this turn I’ll never know.

I did fall once, on one uphill where we were moving so slowly that when I clicked skates with the fellow in front I was able to put a knee down on the grass and stand back up without losing a spot in the line. (Sorry to the gent who took a bigger tumble trying to avoid me, maybe my foot was still on the road. I don’t think he made it back with us.) There was one near spill when on a very flat section of road I simply turned my head and totally lost my balance. Though I managed to stay on my feet this was a frightening experience and then on Rosser Road, I was so fatigued that I tried to run up by leaning forward and had to run just to keep from falling on my face for the second time in two weeks.

As I mentioned Bob and I were a team and together pulled into the mild headwind for 20 of the last 50 miles. Bob had more gas and finished three minutes ahead of me all of which he made up in the last 10 miles so I really slowed down there at the end. The last of the humorous stories comes as I approach check point six. I’m coming up slow and turn down water, but I call out for oranges and a volunteer, bless his heart, runs out with two oranges. Not quartered, but full oranges. What am I going to do with whole oranges? I bet I was a bit rude as I asked for slices. I’m sorry if I offended. I was quickly obliged, most likely without me having to fully stop, and I was gingerly on my way. Gingerly is a skating stride that only those that have skated for close on six hours up on down endless hills will understand.

Those last few miles are were I became to really draw upon the optimism of the weekend. Focusing on being close and not on the few miles of foot jarring pavement I still had to skate, I looked for every landmark to convince myself that I was getting closer to finishing. The cops in Atlanta were great as always, stopping all traffic so I could j-skate through the middle of five-way intersections. Once I crossed the cobblestone plaza and gingerly stepped jumped the curb onto the side street leading to the park I got my first glimpse of downtown and a big boost of energy. I knew home was in site, though not before the car that while trying to park ran me into the curb. I squeaked by yelling my lungs. After that can you believe at the end of it all, the finish line was moved 100 yards further uphill, I felt my last bit of energy drain as I crossed the old line and believe I finished by the grace of the day’s only tailwind. I ended the day with a time just over 6 hours; 6:11:05 to be exact and was met by my support crew of one, Kathy with my six back of Guinness which I was able to dole out to those who made it such a memorable day of travelling.

Thanks to all those responsible for continuing such a unique event. Oh that optimism on the ride into Athens? Pete Starykowicz won the day in a three way sprint to the (moved) finish line. Way to go Pete.

Keep the helmet side up!

I can often be heard encouraging others at the starting line of various races with the above imperative. As last Thursday turned out I could stand to heed my own advice. Planning to get in my second long skate of the week prior to A2A, I sent out a call to anyone to see if they would be skating and if they’d like to meet up on one of our north side trails. As it happened, Cale was up for a long skate and offered to join in for the entire 30 miles. I choose the North Branch trail as it is far more interesting in terrain then two laps of the straight and narrow Old Elm trail. The downside to North Branch currently is as it winds through the forest preserves the recent huge storms have left the trail covered in leaves, twigs, at times caked mud and stones. Anyway, I wasn’t too concerned as I had skated the entire trail on Monday and if anything the bike traffic would start to crush the leaves and twigs into power making it easier to skate.

I can’t say that I was unhappy when right off Cale offered to pull and as the miles clicked over he never gave up the lead position. I might have been forewarned about the events to come as a mere 10 yards into our skate I hit a rock hard and had to work to plant both feet back on the ground. After that we skated the next 10 miles to Devon Ave without incident. We were clocking a faster pace then I had skated on Monday which fit into my training schedule leading into my cool down week. On our return trip north neither of us needed to stop for more water so we breezed past the cars and to finish the northern third of the trail. North to Dundee Road and back would be a total of 10 miles. The pace was brisk and I was feeling great. Admittedly my mind was on the roads in Atlanta and what the pace line size might be over the last 40 -50 miles of Georgian hills. I was not concentrating on skating through the leaf and twig strewn trail in Illinois on which I just happened to be skating. I’m then noticing that I’m laying face down in those Illinois leaves and twigs and trying to figure out if I’m dreaming or I’m a GI Joe action figure left on the ground by some careless youngster. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I have some recollection of being helped up by Cale and a biker and picking some debris off my face. (More on that in a minute.) Somehow I’m wiping my face with my bandana, but I have no idea how I got it out from my under my helmet.

The story as I heard it later from Cale is he hears me going down with a most descriptive “Oh Shit!!” Of course it takes him a few seconds to stop, what with all of the leaves, and as he’s returning he describes me as a sack of potatoes on the trail, no movement, no thought whatsoever for how I’m splayed out across the pavement. The biker comes around the corner, and as luck would have it we’re friends and he says later that I was still not moving for 20 -30 seconds after that. I do start to stir and all though this time Cale has fought his desire to pull off a leaf that is stuck to my face. I think that is what I like so most about Cale. When it’s my time and he’s around he’ll make sure I’m presentable.

Based on my earliest recollection of the events after my fall I may have lost about 5 minutes of memory as I only remember from the time when I recognize Lance, my biker friend. Once steady on my feet I’m ready to skate the last mile back to the car and get cleaned up. Remember I have no clue that I’m actually hurt. Cale is, understandably, a bit unnerved by this but I make it back in one piece. When you consider that I’ve been standing for a few minutes in skates without wobbling it’s probably not that surprising. What doesn’t make it back in one piece is my helmet. Wow!! It’s cracked in two places and you can see in the picture a big chuck broke out of the side. It was really a shame to toss it after taking the photo, but it did its job and I’m very grateful.

It did take a trip to the hospital to prove that I was OK, yet I still feel slighted by not having the doc sign an affidavit stating that in his words he pronounced me “normal.” It may be some time before I’m heard to tell others to “Keep the helmet side up.” I may just concentrate on myself for awhile. Thanks to Cale and to everyone for the well wishes and for Kathy for not even mentioning me giving up skating.

Personal Best…

By more than seven minutes

What a day for racing. Saturday’s 13^th “running” of Duluth’s Northshore Inline Marathon featured a modest tail wind and cool yet comfortable temperatures. Coming off of two sub-par years, I was determined that this was going to be the year to once again get myself into position to metal. Of course for me that means age category metals not pro, elite or open. As my weakness has always been getting off to a good start I decided to ignore the odd-ball, chip-to-chip timing scheme used in Duluth and line up at the front of Wave A and try to hang on as the rabbits zipped passed me. Margo Carvell lined up with me as did John Silker.

It was a good strategy as I found myself close to the middle of the lead pack a mile or two out. However, the road surface is rough for the first six miles or so and neither Margo nor I had yet set up a rhythm what with all the shifting going on, so at times she was five of six skaters ahead of me and or I ahead of her. At about mile four John Silker came steadily up the left-hand shoulder with John Mclinn in tow. I jumped in between them and we picked up Margo and quickly we were setting a solid pace. Somewhere in there Mclinn dropped off and the pavement smoothed out. Silker and I became separated and I spent the next few miles in the main pace line. We were at this time still about 100 - 150 strong with much slinky action working to tire out those of us in the middle of the pack. For a good part of this time I was in behind a female Flanders skater who seemed quite capable of letting the gap grow before she chased it down. I was wearing down mentally with the accelerations and was very glad to once again see big bull John Silker steadily making progress on the left. He gladly took a spot in front of me in the pace line and proceed to ignore the gaps and simply and steadily closed the gap each time, helped at times by impatient skaters behind us who would jump into the gaps as they opened.

John and I were of the same mind by this time, around mile eight, every second or third time the line would collapse on itself and slow, we’d move out and move up without having to change our pace. As the line would getting moving again, we’d jump in 10 to 20 skaters ahead of our previous place. At some point it became clear that the hand on my back was often Margo’s. Though I rarely saw her, she John and I skated as a unit for almost the entire race.

Very few times during the race did I feel like I wasn’t going be able to keep the pace, even though I was skating at close to my maximum. My average speed over the entire 26 miles being just shy of 21 mph. Besides the awesome experience of constantly juggling positions with 75 - 100 other skaters for over an hour the race was relatively uneventful - that is if you allow an hour of pure exhilaration to be labeled uneventful. I saw only one spill near me and only clicked skates once. That once was with John, when I tried to move in behind him and cut it too close. John is so big I felt like I simply bounced off him. He didn’t miss a beat.

At the finish, Margo took off up the final hill with me then John in tow. I caught her on the downhill as I continued to skate down, however Margo tucked in behind another rabbit and was out of the sudden headwind as we came around the convention center. I played it safe and took the turn wide knowing where the good pavement would be. I then turned on what I thought was a sprint but the big bull wasn’t finished. Silker came up on my right and I didn’t know where to look to find any more leg speed to reel him back in.

In the end John beat me by about 10 feet, Margo had me by a second, though the chip-to-chip timing chances those results slightly. Overall I am elated to come home with a time of 1:15:16, as the title says 7:30 faster than my previous best. And while I did not meet my goal of first in my age group I was 4th, and in Duluth that is still medal territory. But wait there’s more! Team Rainbo won the team challenge by 10 minutes over the second place team so I come home with two medals, one being that coveted first place award in the Team Challenge. What a weekend for racing!

Out There Solo for 45 miles


With Duluth coming up in two weeks and A2A three weeks after that I couldn't see being able to organize another long skate up in Rockford; soooooo. I took to the North Branch trail all by my lonesome this morning. The big difference between many of my long skates and today is my need to pull the entire way. Normally I would endeavor to skate with at least one other skater as my height, 6'1", makes headwinds very trying.

Cale Carvell mentioned after our 60 mile practice that no matter how long you're skating that last half hour, that last 3 miles are always the most trying and today was no exception. After almost 3 hours on skates I hit the south trail head, turned around and knew that the last 7 1/2 miles back to the car would be into the wind. While more than half those miles were in the woods, half would be out in fields exposed to the wind. Overall I averaged 13.5 mph over 45 miles, that's with stopping for busy streets, stop lights and three brief water stops. That also includes almost hitting two young deer who didn't know what to make of a guy on skates and only just at the last moment turned to run across the trail, but each time they pulled up short and changed directions. Lots of fun in the sun.

OK, now to rest the feet and the legs and get ready for the big show in Duluth.

About that 60 mile skate


The team organized a distance skate out northwest in the rolling hills of Woodstock and Hebron; pronounced in Illinois as He-bren. Three of the four team members who live out that way, Marcy, Kirt and John put together roughly a sixty mile route through the county highways and byways of Illinois farmland. Funny thing about Illinois, if you go to the extremities of the state you can find hills. Yep, we found hills alright, some where long newly paved down hills of more than a mile. Others were poorly paved grueling up hills. Everyone seemed to be suffering a bit in the foot arena by the last few miles. I was even suffering a bit of mental doubt about tackling A2A again this year. But I kept telling myself that these skates will make it all the more manageable come early October in Georgia.

Besides the fore mentioned team members Cale, Stevo, Tom G. and Andrew came to skate. Andrew on 3 hours sleep. Needless to say Andrew being the newest skater in the bunch managed only 30 miles, but in that he achieved a lot. I think he learned more about pack skating and his limits today than he could have at any other practice. Tom showed that he is a monster of the distance skate and Cale began to find the thrill in skating all day long.

As with most team events, the post race festivities where as enjoyable as the skating. John grilled burger and brats and everyone contributed brews and salads. I knew I had to eat afterward but the body wasn’t much up to the digestion process. That second sandwich sat pretty heavy.

The odd thing about these long skates is my legs are so-o-o-o uncomfortable for a few hours afterward. I’m exhausted, but there's no comfortable position for my legs, so there's no sleep. By tomorrow I’ll be planning the next long practice. A2A, here I come once again.

BTW: The image is a chalk pastel reflection of what many of the roads looked like today.