LIFE & CULTURE STAYING ON TRACK AT THE BOULDER VELODROME
Olympians, recreational cyclists share the track at Boulder Valley Velodrome
ERIE» The notion of riding a bike on a 250meter wooden track with turns banked at 45 degrees doesn’t seem that intimidating by itself. It looks like it would be loads of fun. In fact, pedaling harder and harder, ’round and ’round, lets you feel the G-forces increasing turn by turn.
But track cycling isn’t that simple, one learns while giving it a try at the 3-year-old Boulder Valley Velodrome five miles east of Boulder, one of the few cycling tracks in the United States.
First of all, track cycles have no brakes. Second, track cycles have only one gear. Third, and most unnerving of all: On a track cycle, your toes are clipped into the pedals, so it’s easy to visualize a broken collarbone if you lose control and can’t free your feet in time to brace for a crash. Even for a rider accustomed to clip-in pedals on a road bike, as most road cyclists are, the image of being stuck in the pedals on a brake-less bike on a banked wooden track (or the concrete apron inside the track) is unsettling.
One gulps, thinking: Do I need to learn how to fall?
“We’re not going to learn how to fall today,” track director Pat McDonough said reassuringly, giving a visitor a quick tutorial on the
track cycling experience before turning him loose for a few laps.
One of the first things to learn is that momentum is your friend.
“There is a minimum speed you have to go,” McDonough explained. “I generally tell people it’s somewhere between 12 and 15 mph. The banking is 45 degrees. We have a marine plywood top, but because of the weather we have, it has multiple coats of paint on it. That can make it slippery. Because of that, that minimum speed is very important, and to keep pressure on the pedals. If you float and start getting too slow, that’s when you can slip.”
Did he just say slip?
After a lap or two, though, one discovers it’s really not that difficult or scary after all.
“When you walk around the track, it looks pretty intimidating because it’s pretty steep,” said David DesAutels, 58. “But a welldesigned track is laid out so that essentially if you ride your bike in a straight line, the banking and the curve will steer you right around it. I’ve brought a bunch of beginners out to the track, and they all sort of quake a little bit when they first go into a corner. Within five laps, people start to get, ‘Hey, I’m not going to fall off.’ ”
DesAutels was there to compete in the track’s Thursday night race series.
A series of races unfolded while a spectacular sunset of red and orange and pink flared and dimmed before the track lights took over.
Some of the racers were masters world champions, while others were ordinary recreational athletes who simply enjoy testing themselves in a setting filled with camaraderie.
“I feel like these people are my tribe,” said Mindee Stevenson, 55, who makes the three-hour trip from Eagle every week and is training for the world masters championships in October. “I love to race my bike and I love being around these people. It’s different from road cycling. It’s like runners, marathoners vs. sprinters, it’s just different. A true roadie, they think we’re nuts. They’re like, ‘Why do you want to do that?’ We’re like, ‘Why do you want to ride 200 miles?’ ”
Everyone seemed perfectly OK with the concept of racing with one fixed gear and no brakes, but for the uninitiated, the question does arise: Just what is the point of one gear and no brakes?
“The track bike actually is the first bicycle,” McDonough said. “What most people don’t understand is that a fixed gear bike, that was the bike they rode in the first Tour de France (1903). They didn’t have derailleurs. You can imagine how hard that was. It was a very different kind of race. It was much more like, ‘It’s going to take us all summer to do this course.’ But it really is the original bike. At the turn of the last century (1900), this was a huge sport across the world. There were velodromes all across this country.”
In addition to racing, velodromes serve another purpose for cyclists who want to get stronger and faster.
“One of the most unique and wonderful things is that this is a great place to do structured training — intervals, stuff you do on the spin bike or whatever, but you get to do it outside,” said McDonough, who won a silver medal in track cycling at the 1984 Summer Olympics. “There are no stoplights, there are no cars, there are no potholes, there are no dogs. We all ride in the same direction.”
Glen Winkel, 63, has won eight world championships masters titles. When he took up cycling in 1981, he was advised to add track cycling to his training.
“It was like ‘one more thing,’ to me,” said Winkel, who travels from Colorado Springs to race at Boulder Valley. “It was like, ‘I have enough trouble doing the road,’ but I was told, ‘It’s really going to help you race better.’ I raced the track that first year on an old cheap bike for $100. I went from being a pack rider my first year in ’81 to winning (road) races in ’82. I recommend that all (competitive) bike riders ride the track.”
The racing at Boulder Valley is spirited but friendly. Racers range from teenagers to a couple of guys in their 70s. McDonough said the watchwords for traffic safety on the track are communication, awareness and predictability.
“If you learn those three aspects, you learn where to be, you learn a few basic skills, you can ride with anybody,” McDonough said. “One of the super unique things with track cycling, you see brand new riders sharing the track with Olympians, training at the same time.”
Olivia Cummins of Fort Collins, 14, is grateful to have a track near home. There are only a cou- ple dozen in the U.S.
“A few people I race at nationals have to drive hours and hours to get a few hours of practice in,” Cummins said.
“It’s really easy just having to drive like 45 minutes. Coming here it’s so much easier to get good, fast training and not have to worry about getting hit by a car or potholes or glass on the roads.”
The Thursday night racers take it seriously, but Stevenson said they keep it in perspective.
“We don’t talk about crashing,” Stevenson said with a superstitious nod. “Here’s the rule on Thursdays: Tomorrow is Friday, what do we all have to do? We have to go to work or school, we have to get up and go do something. Tomorrow is not the Olympics. That’s how we try to race here.”