Categories: Le GraveurThe Rides

Le Graveur: Pain-o-nomics 101

Marko exits the first section of trail to bridge to the front group. Photo: Jeremy Kershaw

I’ve taken exactly one economics course in my life. If the fog of time isn’t too thick, I recall two theories that account for value. These theories posit value as being either (A) intrinsic or (B) subjective. That is to say that commodities are valuable in and of themselves and that value can be established objectively by the market. Or things hold value because we as individuals say they do, markets be damned. Now for this premise to work for we the Velominati, I’m going to ask you to accept that pain is a commodity. I don’t think it will be too hard for us to get there.  We budget the time in our weeks so that we can get more of it, we bank it in our guns to be spent at a later date, when we’ve got enough saved up we happily share it with other riders (Trickle-down Pain-o-nomics if you will), and when we’re running short on it we feel poor. For all intents and purposes, we seek pain out like a Wall Street broker looking for the next Microsoft IPO.

When I consider pain from position A – pain is intrinsically valuable and that value can be set by market forces – I think of myself riding the first half of The Heck of The North. You see, for the first half of the day I was riding with the front group. This group of twenty or so riders was dipping into the pain stores not as individuals, but as a collective. The demand for pain was being driven up by the entire group on the snowmobile trail sections of the race.* Analogous to its namesake, The Hell of the North, selections are made at The Heck not on the road (in this case, gravel roads) but on several difficult sections of sno-go trail which require the rider to be practiced, skilled, familiar, and in possession of The V. The riders that do well in this race are really fast at riding technically on a course that they’ve ridden before. They have a pretty good idea of who’s going to go, certainly know exactly where, and can react accordingly. I had prepared adequately for all of these factors, I thought.

It was on the third section of trail when the value of the pain I was “buying” shifted from being market-driven to the subjective side of the equation I called position B above. To put it in simple terms – I was dropped like The Rainbow Turd. Until then I was riding comfortably in the tete de la course (as was the case after the first sections of trail) or working hard to get back to the front after realizing that my trail riding skills weren’t as honed as other in the group. We hit a section fast and I was positioned perfectly in the top 4 when my front wheel slid out in soft gravel. Then, 100 meters up the trail, I was forced to dismount on steep, boulder strewn double track after falling off my line. After the disappointment of seeing the lead group ride up the trail wore of, I was left with a choice – to keep riding hard (albeit out of contention) and see how the day turned out or not.** So I took a long-needed piss and started riding hard. I figured sooner or later I’d reel some other dropees back in, which turned out to be the case.

I felt pain but it was the good kind of pain, familiar and sweet. Pain that I knew would pay dividends, pain that, once deposited in the First National Bank of The Guns, could be withdrawn, with interest, at a later date. And even though I was shopping alone now as opposed to with twenty other dudes, I knew I had no choice but to keep buying because walking out of the Pain-Mart would have left my cupboards empty at the end of the day. I wanted a full pantry. This pain still had value but only to me. I was shopping for myself after the mid-way point of the race.

At the end of the race I could say I learned a lot and felt good about how the day went. On the one hand, I contributed, at least for a while, to the market and even though the dividends weren’t as high for me as they were for others, I came away ahead of where I feared. On the other hand, during the second half of the race, I was able to set my own terms and finish with even more pain in the First National Bank of The Guns than when I started the day. Which leads me to conclude that ultimately, pain’s value lies both in its intrinsic and subjective nature and the beauty of pain is that it is free to any of us who are willing to take it. By placing value on pain we recognize that there is plenty of it laying around for the taking because so many other people do what they can to avoid it. In this sense, it is our demand for it, not the abundant supply, that gives it value. In accepting pain as a commodity we see hardship, fear,  doubt, and discomfort as resources to be accepted, conquered, oppressed and embraced respectively all the while knowing that the more we buy the wealthier we’ll be in the long run. The Heck of the North (as well as other gravel races like The Almanzo) create the ideal circumstances for harvesting the commodity of pain.*** These gravel races provide opportunities to both enter the market and set the value yourself. In either case, the organizers, riders, and routes provide ample amounts a valuable pain. Go shopping.

Here are some cool videos making their way around about these two races.

Almanzo Video. Look for the ALAN.

HOTN Video. Look for the guy drinking.

*For those of you who may not know what snowmobiles trails are (let alone snowmobiles), the state of Minnesota maintains a vast network of groomed trails for snowmobile enthusiasts in the winter. During the non-winter months these trails are a mix of grasses (both short and tall), bouldery gravel, swamp and muskeg, double track, and Precambrian granite. They are unmaintained in the summer except for clearing the occasional downed tree.

** The truth is, I was really only left with one option, ‘not’ was not a viable option. A day or two previously I had received the single-most awesome pep-talk ever from Frank over voxer. Had I not had his loud Dutch, two-beer buzz voice screaming at me from within to “KILL IT” I may have actually considered the ‘not’ option. BTW, if anyone can tell me how to save and upload voxer messages I’d be happy to share this inspirational rant with you good people.

***It has been suggested in some quarters that riding gravel is up to 20% harder (rolling resistance) than riding tarmac. If this is indeed the case, we reap much more value given the same distance and time on the road.

 

Marko

Marko lives and rides in the upper midwest of the States, Minnesota specifically. "Cycling territory" and "the midwest" don't usually end up in the same sentence unless the conversation turns to the roots of LeMond, Hampsten, Heiden and Ochowitz. While the pavé and bergs of Flanders are his preferred places to ride, you can usually find him harvesting gravel along forest and farm roads. He owes a lot to Cycling and his greatest contribution to cycling may forever be coining the term Rainbow Turd.

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  • @scaler911 For comparison, slightly north of Seattle is an event I like to call a cyclocross race. It goes down like this.

    On sunny days when there is no mud, we know we can count on the course designer to step up his game. On this occasion, he chopped down a bunch of trees with his multitool, threw them in a pile, and wrapped a rusty chain around them for an aesthetic touch.

    I was talking to the organizer before the race. A 2ft tall woman walked up to him and asked him if there was any way around the 6ft tall log pile. He said no.

    Elsewhere on the course was a wood chip mountain. Pretty self explanatory.

    Note that even though this racer has an inexpensive unmarked bike frame, she took the time to match her helmet to the red outlines on her jersey, and the bike to the helmet. Note also the fine form with arm slightly bent, legs sprinting uphill.

    Later in this same race, I was fortunate enough to be standing on a hill as she powered up it so severely that her chain gave up and fell onto the dirt in agony.

    It's not a race unless the course organizer races, too. Right after I took this photo, he swallowed the loudspeaker, yelled "GO" with it still in his throat, mounted his steed, and won the holeshot.

    This woman is at least 80 years old but doesn't let that stop her from destroying the Women's A race. First place.

    Here's Cosmic Miller riding up a 35% grade. I don't know if he's smiling because he enjoys riding a bike or because he just ate a lapped rider.

    So, again, what exactly happens in these "cyclocross" races in Portland?

  • That article confused the fuck out of me until the last paragraph.  That said, I like it - especially the 'all the while knowing that the more we buy the wealthier we'll be in the long run' part.  Nice work, Marko!

  • Beautiful work Marko. Way to represent the Keepers out there in the wilderness. We will know you by your white Fizik R3s. You stand out in a race like that with the aristocrats on.

    So were you on the Alan for this or the no name bike? Thoughts. Any tyre flats? And what size tires and pressures do people use. It must be tempting to go Boonen on this, 28mm tyres and 70 psi. Maybe the gravel and sand don't allow for such thoughts.

  • @G'rilla

    That's all well and good, but where's the sand? Belgian's do it in the sand and we got plenty of that:

    It's not a race unless you get one of these: (apologies for the repost)

    Didn't see any really good run ups there. You know that's part of the sport too: (these are our Clydesdales gettin' it done)

    This is Karen. She's 50 and will tear the legs off most guys I know (for our ladies):

    For those of you that live outside our little corner of the world, the rivalry between Seattle and Portland is like that between NZ and Australia. The only really good reason to go to Seattle is to visit Frank and G'rilla. They even import our good beer and coffee and try and pass it off as their own.

  • I'm doing my first Cross race Saturday.  Anybody know where I can get some "juice"?

     
  • @co-mo

    Nice! Whenever I ride on gravel it makes me appreciate the tarmac even more. By the way, is that a camelback strapped to your torso? I make no rule judgment here; just curious.

    I agonized over whether or not to use the CB. As you can see, it ruins and otherwise good photo and the thing invariably slid to the side on trail sections. But one thing I learned from the Almanzo is that stopping at drop points and feed zones is very costly. The front group doesn't stop, ever. Furthermore, the route is remote and there are zero places along the way to refill bidon. That and there's only one bidon cage on that bike. So I had one bidon on the bike, one in by jersey, and the CB which just got me by.

    @G'rilla

    Wish you could have made it.

    @Gianni

    No name Ridley X-night branded as Velominati Le Graveur. I've been riding some Kenda Happy Mediums (32's and 6 bar) which are a dry CX tire and work very well for gravel. Tyres like these are the most common in the gravel scene. The Aristocrats are great for just straight up graveling but dismounting, walking through muck, getting shit in the cleats is the trade off. In the future, road pedals and shoes for Almanzo, MTB for Heck.

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