Fear

My brother is on fire. 20:11 up Suncrest on Sunday, winning the crit on Wednesday, and today he won the most important and prestigious race of all: the sprint to the top of the Alpine Loop group ride. He nosed out Sam, while Jon, Rick, Aaron, and I didn’t even contest it because we knew when those two took off that we were done. In fairness, Rick was carrying his work clothes in a messenger bag, Jon had been the hammer all the way up the hill, and Aaron has been sick all week, but still.

No sooner do I say that neither of us has had the upper hand three times in a row than he doesn’t just edge me out, but absolutely smokes me three times in a row. I’m getting very scared that his run of good form is going to become a permanent advantage.

I’m also making no progress in terms of not being scared when descending. On the way down the South side of Suncrest this morning, I got some wobbles at a little over 40 mph. I tried everything I know to do—putting my knee on the top tube, lifting my butt off the saddle, staying in the drops—none of it helped.

Then, descending AF canyon, I was opening it up more than I’ve ever dared before, hit about 46 or 47 mph coming down the last steep straightaway, and just as I was thinking “this is awesome—I’m going fast without wobbling”—again I started wobbling, bad, all over the road.

My frame is wonderfully light—less than 950 grams. But it’s not super stiff. That never seemed to matter too much before, and actually made for a more comfortable ride. But living as I do now at the top of a mountain where the only way down is a grade of between 8 and 12%, this is a problem I’ve got to solve or I’m going to end up spread across the pavement one of these days.