Caracas Velodrome - Final Part

The veloquest is over. Tomorrow I leave Caracas, and I never managed to ride the velodrome here. In the other two posts I wrote about the Velodromo Teo Capriles, here and here, I described finding the velodrome in Caracas and then trying to get information on riding it. Sadly, it just never came together. A combination of the velodrome being on the other side of the city, me not having a track bike here, and a slightly confusing and hectic schedule at the velodrome itself prevented me from getting out there.


The last time I posted about it, I had just learned that the velodrome held daily practice sessions, and I was eager to head over there and check them out, and maybe borrow a bike and actually ride. But, the trip was not exactly a success. When I arrived, I realized that the daily practice session was more like an introductory session for kids, on road bikes. Also, the infield was hosting multiple games of volleyball and football at the same time. It was chaos. Every five seconds a ball would shoot out of the infield and careen around the track, often knocking down riders and causing minor crashes. Thankfully, the kids weren’t going very fast, but I saw a one-legged cyclist, in Venezuelan national kit and clearly not part of the kids’ session, get knocked arse-over-face when a volleyball got lodged between his wheels, sending him sprawling.


Needless to say, I was a little disappointed. I had expected a dedicated session of track training, but instead it was a chaotic and kind of dangerous “introductory” session for kids, a trial by volleyball fire, if you will. If any of them stick with track racing after that, they’ll be fearless. Anyway, it just wasn’t meant to be. All the track racing in Venezuela this year, and there was a good bit of it, happened in other cities, like Valencia and San Cristobal. I don’t know why nothing happened in Caracas, but I think I was just unlucky.


Now I’m leaving. It feels strange. I’ve lived in Caracas for a year, but it doesn’t seem like it, and I've enjoyed living here a lot more than I thought I would. I missed racing, but everything else about the experience has been great. Venezuela is a beautiful country. The people are lovely, the food is amazing, and Caracas is exciting. I’ll miss it a lot. I’m getting ready to head to Houston for Christmas with Amy’s family, then to Chicago for a few days, and then I’m moving to Fiji to begin my dissertation research. There’s no velodrome there, but there are some road races, so hopefully I’ll get to compete a bit.

Hipster Nascar will keep going, but the posts may be a little infrequent until I get settled. Until then, check out the links listed on the right (check out the interview I did about track bikes and blogging with Ira of Being Totally Sweet in Chicago here) and go ride yr bike.

Caracas Velodrome Pt. 2

My quest to ride the velodrome here in Caracas continues. I shall call it my VeloQuest.

My first visit to the velodrome was amazing. Here was an incredible track, surrounded by its own ten thousand seater stadium, in the middle of Barrio La Vega, with no sign of anybody riding it. I was going mental that I didn’t have a track bike, and three months later I’m still going mental. That beautiful track is just sitting there, 30 minutes away, and I can’t ride it.

Velodromo Teo Capriles, Caracas, Venezuela.

Priority number one was to get a track bike. Shouldn’t be too hard, I thought to myself. After all, in my local bike shop the other day I saw a CSC Team Soloist Carbon Cervélo, with full Dura-Ace and Zipp 303s. If that can exist here, then surely I should be able to get a simple track bike, right?

But I haven’t been able to find one… not an acceptable one, at any rate. Only two shops I called even knew what the hell I was talking about. One of those said it could order me in the London edition Langster (not a track bike, and irredeemably ugly). The other shop is a Felt dealer, and they carry TK2s… for about $1,000 more than they are in the US. I don’t even want a TK2, let alone for that price. Turns out they didn’t have any in stock anyway.

So, I’m thinking that my best bet might be to get a cheap Sparton frame shipped to Caracas from Chile, where they are made. That probably won’t cost too much, and then I can try to have parts shipped to me from Ben’s, our team shop. I dunno, it’s the only plan I have right now.

Velodromo Teo Capriles, Caracas, Venezuela.

But even if I put a bike together, would I be allowed to ride it at the track? The last time we were at the velodrome, where the Venzuelan Cycling Federation have their offices, Amy kindly talked to the people there about me riding the track. At the time, no one had any real information they could give us, but they did give us the name of the guy in charge of the track program, so we decided to give him a call. I say we, when of course I mean Amy. My Spanish is what you might call non-existent. And so, with me in the background prompting her with questions I wanted to ask, Amy called the VCF. Of course, the guy wasn’t there… and it emerged that he wasn’t just the head of the track program, but the head of the entire national cycling federation… and then they gave us his cell phone number. Wow. Still haven’t called it, but it was nice of them to give it to us! Oh, Venezuela.

The bank of turn 3, Velodromo Teo Capriles, Caracas, Venezuela.

They were able to tell me one important thing. There are, apparently, daily practices at the track, from 4pm to 6pm. They’re run by a mysterious character called Prof. Pirella. I have no idea who the practice is for. It could be for the national squad, but it could also just be for whoever shows up. You never know, they may even have some loaner bikes. If so, I might finally get out on the track…

Reunited

I'm back in Chicago for a couple of weeks, and back riding my street bike. It's nothing special. Just a cheap Taiwanese track frame with some Deep Vs and a bunch of different and not necessarily matching parts thrown at it. But, I love it nonetheless, and I love what it means to me. I don't care if it sounds dopey, but this bike means freedom to me, and I really only learned to appreciate that when I moved away. You see, this bike has been, for months, lying in pieces under a tarp in a downtown Chicago storage space. I could only take one bike to Caracas, and I chose to take my geared road bike. I wasn't sure a brakeless track bike would be a good choice for the streets of Caracas. Caracas is hilly, but that's not the problem. The problem is the drivers. They. Are. Mental.

I know, I know, everyone says that about the drivers in every foreign city, but I'm being totally serious and objective: every driver in Caracas is a homicidal/suicidal maniac. Four way intersections are like games of four car chicken: whoever has the stones to speed through is the winner, and the other three cars are usually reduced to flaming wrecks. Not only that, but no one, I mean no one commutes by bike, so drivers aren't really used to seeing people on bikes. Finally, the cheapness of petrol means the roads are flooded with all manner of motor vehicle, from tanks and buses to swarms of cheap Chinese motorbikes (marketed with incredible names like New Jaguar and Howard John.)

Anyway, needless to say riding this thing around the street of Caracas doesn't strike me as a pastime conducive to a long and healthy life. But being reunited with it in Chicago is great. Bombing around downtown, along the LFP and around the cabs and buses of Michigan Ave... I love it. I may bring it back to Caracas with me, even with the crazy drivers. It's just too much fun.

(Hey Aaron, I took the top tube protector off. You win... you swine!)

This Morning.

While riding this bike around the hills of Caracas I saw the following:

The city from the hils.



This mini peleton of serious dudes. Nice Look, buddy!

The teleferico cable cars.

And this piece of stencil graf. Get money, get money.

Caracas Velodrome.

I knew there was supposed to be a velodrome in Caracas. I'd heard it was on the campus of the Institutio Nacional de Deportes. I'd also heard that they hadn't had any track events there in a while. A satellite photo I found online confirmed that the place actually existed, but not whether the velodrome was ridable. Not that it feckin' matters, because I don't have my track bike with me, but I wanted to see it anyway.

Caracas is an interesting city. Five million or so people living in a valley, many incredibly poor, some incredibly rich. You don't really know what a neighbourhood is going to be like till you visit it, because depending on who you talk to it could be either heaven or hell. We took the Metro from our place all the way west to La Paz, and walked from there. The neighbourhood seemed fine. We walked along between bootleg dvd stalls and pineapple vendors. We could see Barrio La Vega on the hills in front of us.

After a fifteen minute walk we came to the Instituto Nacional de Deportes. The campus looked like it had been built in the 1970's, after the oil boom. It was open to the public, so we just walked in. People were milling around. We saw men from the national Taekwondo squad, and women from the national volleyball team. Eventually we found it...



Three hundred and thirty three metres of perfect concrete velodrome, with banking that looks close to 40 degrees, in the middle of a stadium, surrounded by barrios. Crazy. We found our way under the stands and out onto the track. It was an amazing feeling, standing on the start line, looking at the stadium and imagining what it must be like to line up for a race with thousands of people cheering.


It's definitely the most impressive velodrome I've ever been too. It looks like it's fast as hell, and I basically walked around the track in a daze, imagining diving down the banks into a sprint, or hammering out a flying 200. I'm now totally desperate to find a track bike down here. I don't know what my chances of actually riding this thing are, but I'm going to try to figure something out.

We wandered around for a little while longer, taking pictures and sitting in the stands. We found the Venezuelan Cycling Federation office, and got the phone number for the guy who runs the track side of things. Maybe he'll know where I can get a bike from. But whether I get to ride this beautiful velodrome or not, it's nice to know that it exists...

Why didn't I bring my track bike? WHY??!?!

BMX in Caracas.

Yesterday, as I was walking home in Caracas, I stumbled upon a bunch of people building a big mini-ramp, right in the middle of Plaza de la Castellana. Turns out there was to be a big skate/bmx demo that night. I went back as it was kicking off, and it was great. Local hero Daniel Dhers was there, tearing up the ramp, and there was some good flatland stuff going down too. The flatland tricks made me miss having my track bike around. I know, I know, BMX tricks and fixed-gear tricks are not the same, and I know some BMXers inexplicably hate the fixed-gear scene, but whatever, it's all cool to me...

Flatland.

Skills.

But can he do a one-handed foot-through leg-over skid on a track bike?

Daniel Dhers being introduced to the crowd.

Dhers waiting for it to start.

Dhers about to decapitate that rollerblader... Sorry, Sean.

WTF?

Also, there was some brilliant live hip hop from a Caracas crew called Los Cuatro Poderes (Four Powers), and some breakdancing. I have absolutely no idea what the event was for, but it was pretty deadly. Also, my little camera took some nice pics, and I didn't get robbed on the way home. Bonus.

Hills and Burgers: My Life in Caracas

Alright, alright, settle down! So I’m sorry I haven’t updated in a while, but moving to Caracas wasn’t exactly easy or free of problems, you know! But, everything is going really well now. The apartment is lovely, the city is exciting, the food is amazing, and there are hills here. Hills! The last hill I rode was the wheelchair ramp up to the Shedd Aquarium entrance. Pathetic, but that’s what counts as a hill in Chicago. Caracas is a bit different.


First things first: I had a crash. I went out for a cycle with Amy last Sunday and got sideswiped by a longboarder who carved right in front of me. I hit the curb and went over the bars. I was grand, but I got road rash on my shoulder, elbow, hip, knee and foot. I hit my head too, but of course I was wearing my helmet so I was okay. No photos, I’m afraid, but I do have a photo of what I put on the road rash when I got home: duoderm. It’s some kind of “second skin” that keeps a wound clean and moist and helps it heal really quickly. It worked great; I recommend it for anyone with road or track rash. Also, it’s made out of fruit pectin, so essentially you’re using a Fruit Roll-Up as a bandage.


Anyway, the hills here are a blast. We live on the northside of the city (g’wan de northside, wha’?!), and it only takes a couple of blocks going north before you’re going up some fairly steep inclines.

The Cote Mil, which is a big road that runs east-west on the very northen edge of the city, 1000 meters above sea level, closes down on Sunday morning for a ciclovia. The ride up there is tough, but then you get to experience a beautiful ride along the edge of the city, half way up the Avila, looking down over Caracas. We had a great ride up there this morning, and saw a lot of roadies and mountain bikers along the way. I still haven’t really figured out a good weekday ride, because the traffic is mad hectic around here during the week, but I need to get cycling everyday, because the food here is too, too good…


I'm going to be as big as a house if I keep eating these street burgers!

Fingerprints? Am I being arrested?

That's Amy's bike in front. Yes, you feckers, it is nicer than mine. Anyway, we moved into our own place the other night. It's small, but really nice. It doesn't have the internet yet, but we're working on it. Like everything else in Venezuela, getting the internet connected will be a huge bureaucratic rigmarole that will take days of queuing and almost certainly involve giving fingerprints, and possibly also DNA samples and retina scans. No joke.

Now that we've moved in I can unpack the bikes and finally go for a ride. I have a route worked out that will take me from our place north into some quieter and hilly suburbs. Hills? Jaaaaysus...

So, until I figure out how many tissue samples we have to give before we get the internet, I won't be updating the site as often as before. But, stay tuned, because coming soon: a report on last summer's VeloCity Tour event in Chicago which includes a story about me making a pig's mickey of a finish by showing off; more inane banter; a report on my first ride in Caracas (report contingent on me surviving); some exciting sponsorship news from Team Pegaus; and an interview with Declan O'Loughlin of Pezula Racing, a brand new Irish professional cycling team. Not bad, wha'?

In the meantime, keep the rubber side down!

nezuelaUpdate*VenezuelaUpdate*VenezuelaUpda

I saw my first roadie yesterday! Been here a week, and had only seen some mountain-bikers and BMXers until last night, when walking to get some food we saw a guy on a beautiful Felt F2, wearing full Felt kit. He was a young guy too, so possibly a racer? Is there a Felt sponsored team in Caracas? Does this guy just really love Felt? Interesting... It puts my mind at ease, because it means that there is at least one other road cyclist in this area. I was starting to get worried. You would too if you saw the way the feckin' drivers here ignore all stop signs and signals! The intersections are pure chaos.

Also: today at 2pm we have a meeting with a guy from whom we want to rent an apartment. I know, I know, that's probably more important news than my seeing a roadie. Whatevs. So yeah, at 2pm today we could be signing a lease on an apartment. The place is small, but nice, and the building has a pool. With luck, photos soon.

Hello, I am in Venezuela.

Yes, you read that right.

Amy and I are in Caracas, Venezuela! We're here so that Amy can do her dissertation research on the Venezuelan public healthcare system. I'm just along for the ride, basically. We had a mental week, which consisted of packing to move here for a year, moving everything else out of our apartment and into a storage space, and saying goodbye to some of the greatest people ever. Our going away party was a blast. $15 all-you-can-drink and a loose Aerospoke makes for a good night out.


I'm going to miss everyone a lot. They're a bunch of degenerates and elitist misanthropes in the main, but they're good craic, and a few of them even know how to ride bikes. They got me a Campagnolo peanut butter wrench as a going away present. They even got my name engraved on it.


Classic!

Well, that's it for now. We only arrived a few hours ago, but the place we're staying at has WiFi so I thought I'd do a quick update before I crash. Coming soon: photos of me trying to re-assemble our road bikes; a report on how much my shitty wheels flex on Caracas hill climbs; more race reports from last summer's track season which are kind of made up because I can't really remember that long ago; and any random rubbish I feel like writing.

Introduction.

I have the feeling that writing a blog is a little bit like recording your voice and then playing it back to yourself later: it's mortifying, and you always sound like an idiot.

This is my first attempt at a blog, I've no idea what to write, and frankly I have no idea why anyone would want to read it, but here it is nonetheless. Soon, I'll be leaving Chicago to move to Caracas, Venezuela for a year, while my wife conducts her fieldwork. The blog will give me both something to do, because I don't yet speak Spanish, and an easy way to record the experience of moving to a different country. In the meantime, I'm going to post up a couple of race reports that I wrote but never got around to adding to my team's blog, and the usual bullshit like photos, videos, and wildly misguided opinion.



Since I doubt that anyone who doesn't know me will be reading this, I should probably dispense with the formalities in short order. I grew up in Raheny on the northside of Dublin, Ireland. I'm 32. I'm married to Amy, who is the best. Obviously. I'm studying for a Ph.D in anthropology at the University of Chicago. How I got into the U of C remains a mystery, and apparently a source of some consternation to my department. Feck them! My dissertation is about the recruitment of Fijians into the British Army. After Caracas, Amy and I go to Fiji for a year so that I can conduct my fieldwork. It's a tough life!

I ride for Team Pegasus, the preeminent hipster cycling team in the Midwest. We're the shit. For real. We compete on the track, the road, in cyclocross and in mountain biking. We go out there to have a good time, first and foremost, but we also like to win and even though we've only been around a year we have a growing reputation. Check out the team blog here. I ride track, and just finished my first season. I did pretty well, competing at Northbook, Kenosha and Hellyer velodromes, progressing from Cat5 to Cat4, and managing to finish in the top three at least once every race night, except for my last night of racing, which sucked.

That's all you need to know. Next, I'll post up a couple of race reports from the summer. Don't worry if this is all a boring load of oul' shite now, I'm sure it'll get funny and interesting once I'm strolling around Caracas like a lunatic, desperately trying to blend in even though I'll be the only person slathered with factor 45 sunblock...