Alabama Cycling Camp

Introduction

Due to the nasty injuries I suffered in late August of 2005, I missed both my annual ride to the Mackinaw Bridge (DALMAC) and a week-long vacation I'd planned for early October. So I was looking for something new and interesting to do on the bike while I convalesced. As it turned out, a guy who looked vaguely familiar even though I still haven't quite placed him handed me the solution as I poled my way around the parking lot at the State Road Race on crutches.

He was handing out flyers to anyone who'd take one, and since I was moving pretty slowly, I was easy prey. Once I got back to the car, I found I was gripping an invitation to Alabama Cycling Camp, a new racing/training/bike fit winter camp run by a longtime cycling coach from Windsor, Ontario named Aldo Sfalcin. A little investigation of the Camp website disclosed the camp runs from late November through March and is based in Ramer, Alabama, nearly 900 miles from Kalamazoo and only 70 miles north of the Gulf of Mexico. The price was reasonable, and even though late November is just a tad early to start training for next season, the urge to get in some good training couldn't be denied.

So we got up really early the day after Thanksgiving and stepped outside into 10-degree temperatures, howling wind, and 4 inches of fresh, powdery snow. Ugh! Twelve hours of nearly non-stop driving later, we stepped into 75 degree sunshine at the 100-plus year old house-cum-training-headquarters Aldo owns in the tiny community of Ramer, about 25 miles south of Montgomery, the state capital.

As it turned out, we were the first trainees of the year, and while the house holds up to 16 visitors, we were the only ones signed up so early. In fact, Aldo had his son there along with a lifelong friend, Dino, helping get the place whipped into shape for the season including adding another bedroom and two more showers. Both Aldo and Dino were born in Italy and are at least 60 years old. They've been riding and racing since they were kids. Aldo's been coaching over 23 years and has coached at least seven riders who have competed in World Championships, as Aldo has himself. Didn't take long to get the feeling that what Aldo doesn't know about racing and training isn't worth knowing, and we're going to have the benefit of riding and learning at the knee of a truly knowledgeable man.

But the first thing that he and Dino both emphasized was that we would just love the roads. Great pavement, rolling countryside and very little traffic, each one told us at least twice, just wait and see tomorrow.

The plan for each day was written on a chalkboard on the living room wall, not far from a five-foot square map of the entire area covering about 35 miles in every direction. Breakfast at 8:00, stretch, ride four hours from 10:00 till 2:00, more stretching, lunch, then bicycling maintenance and adjustments, dinner, bicycling discussion, lights out by 10:00. In other words, all day every day focused on fitness, riding, and cycling skills. Perfect.

That first evening, we ate a tasty pasta dinner with salad and polenta with a wide-ranging cycling-oriented conversation with lots of storytelling before we fell into bed early the twelve hour drive had taken its toll.

Day One - November 26, 2005

After a good 10 hours of sleep, it looked cloudy out the window. But it turned out that my window faced west, and it was just morning haze. Forty degrees, but it sure looked promising to the east. Breakfast was pancakes with bananas and blueberries, cereal, toast, fruit, juice and coffee. A little stretching, some educated guessing about how much lycra to squeeze into and we were ready to clip-in, along with Aldo and Dino.

But before we pushed off, Aldo took time to go over some basic rules of the road a sensible thing to do since he gets all sorts of riders in the camp, and he has no way to know people's skills in advance. No crossed wheels, keep a decent following distance, communicate your intentions, be polite out there, wave at people we need them to like us, hang on to your trash, that sort of stuff.

The plan today was four hours at a nice, easy aerobic pace. No hard riding at all. This turned out to mean 60 miles in three and a half hours. Aldo spent the whole ride in the back, checking out our position, our riding style, making suggestions, and trying to convince 63 year old Dino, who pulled about half the ride, to go slower. Right away they both noticed that my hips were rocking a bit a recent change of seats had my butt just a bit high. I hadn't noticed, but their practiced eyes caught it right away.

Didn't take long to see that they were right about the roads. Hardly any tar-and-gravel. Lots of good, smooth asphalt. For sure the ground never freezes here, so the roads stay nice and smooth. Plus, amazingly little traffic. I've always figured that, once I get 15 or 20 miles out of Kalamazoo, the roads are deserted. Today, a Saturday, riding in the middle of the day, I seriously doubt we had more than thirty cars come up behind us in sixty miles.

And the countryside is lovely. Lots of woods, a few farms and also a few McMansions on big chunks of land. The leaves are pretty much all down even this far south. Hardly a flat mile the whole day, just one rolling hill after another. Nothing hard, but enough that, in order to keep the effort nice and easy, we were shifting gears regularly. Saw a couple of deer, several hawks and turkey buzzards, but by far the most beautiful sight was Spanish moss lots and lots of it hanging down from all sorts of trees.

Rides have to end pretty early here because we're almost directly south of Kalamazoo but in the central time zone. Pitch black out at 4:30 in the afternoon. After the ride, Aldo led us through more stretching before we showered and relaxed before dinner. Turns out Dino, a retired union ironworker, is a darn good cook too.

After dinner, we had our first extended conversation about cycling. Tonight's talk was about early season training. Aldo is a Level 3 Coach in Canada, the highest level, which means he has taken all sorts of university classes. This, combined with over 20 years of experience, means he has very definite, scientifically proven ideas about how to train to best prepare to get the most from yourself during the upcoming season. Of course, the end of November is too early to do much other than easy base miles, but we spent more than an hour just talking about what we ought to do in February, March and April, and how we ought to go about getting it done with the lousy weather we have to deal with that time of year.

We went to bed thinking that if tomorrow turns out exactly like today, we'd be very happy campers indeed.

Day Two - November 27, 2005

Turned out the steady rain wasn't a dream after all. We awoke after another nine hours of sleep to a steady shower that had that not-stopping-anytime-soon feel about it. Hmmm. Aldo said yesterday we ride here every day, rain or shine, just like racers do. But rain starting in the middle of the night and it can't be more than 45 degrees, I figure with an involuntary shudder. The notion of three or four relatively slow hours on the bike isn't exactly heartwarming. Procrastination is definitely in order. I roll over and pull the covers up snug.

But eventually there's just no more sleep to be had, and I venture a couple of tentative steps out on the nice, big front porch to see for myself, and indeed it's just about as bad as I'd imagined. As I step back in the house shivering, Aldo sticks his head out from the kitchen and says, hey, change of plans we need to go into town for supplies soon, so let's go to the big city this morning, sight-see a little too, and maybe the rain will blow through and we can ride this afternoon. We all think Aldo should get an award, and down some grub, then pile into Aldo's van, which sports "Maple Leaf Cycling Club" in big white letters on both sides.

In Montgomery, the State capital, we're reminded this was the Capital of the Confederate States of America. We saw the spot in front of the State Capital where Jefferson Davis was sworn in as President of the Confederacy. Then we saw a really cool fountain devoted to remembering the contributions of a number of civil rights pioneers like Rosa Parks. A confederate flag flies overhead less than a block away. No question the south and this is truly the deep south is conflicted about its heritage.

After a trip to the grocery and the bike shop, we drove back to Ramer. Indeed the rain had moved along, so we chowed down, suited up, and had time for 35 beautiful but windy miles before the sun got low. Another rolling, beautiful route with fine pavement and virtually no traffic. Lots of woods, lots of ponds, lots of cows.

More stretching when we get home. Earlier this morning, we discovered a large cache of bike racing videos. Just the thing to plug in while vegging out after rides. Most are so old I have no idea who wins. The walls are covered with all sorts of cycling pictures some old, famous shots of Merckyx and Lemond, other shots of Aldo's racers. Practically everything in the house is cycling-related.

This evening we talked to Aldo for an hour and a half about time-trialing, road-race tactics, early-season training techniques, and how to measure our progress without spending thousands of dollars on Computrainers or SRMs. After a while, the conversation slowly turned to stories, and before long the bed began to beckon.

Day Three - November 28, 2005

More rain this morning. But warm sixty degrees at dawn. And when we get to plan our entire day around going for a ride, why not wait a while and see what happens We did some more sight-seeing and grocery shopping in the morning, ate some lunch, and clicked in about 1:00.

The roads were still wet, the humidity was easily 110 percent, and a big south wind was trying to chase the clouds away. So we took on the headwind and spent the day on new roads south of the camp. Bigger hills today, and even more rural roads. Not a McMansion in sight, but, to be honest, some of the poorest-looking homes I've ever seen in America. Once again, great pavement, beautiful, sinuous roads winding through woods and farmlands, and hardly a bump worth pointing out to your riding buddies the entire forty miles.

We're sticking with the plan of nothing but aerobic riding, even on the hills and into the wind, so forty miles took two and a half hours mostly because Dino the diesel would not be contained. Actually got chased by a pretty darn serious dog today near the end, but everything else was so fine it hardly mattered. Lots of folks here keep dogs, easily three times as many hanging out in yards and on porches as around Kalamazoo. And three times as many chase us to one degree or another. But most aren't too serious about it and give up shortly after the property line. Only a few venture on to the pavement. Today was the first one that actually caused concern.

And speaking of critters, I realized today that I've seen more goats in three days here than in Kalamazoo the last three years. Billy goats with goatees and horns, white ones, brown ones, all sorts of goats.

Afterwards, it was bike-fit time, and once again it became abundantly clear that Aldo is just bursting with knowledge book-learned knowledge and hard-earned practical, seat-of-the-pants knowledge. Kathy's time-trial position was seriously massaged, and Aldo painstakingly explained the theory behind each change. He pulled out a video camera and filmed her from the side as well as the back. He put a level across her back before and after we switched the stem around. He knew exactly what the rules are for how low the bars can be, and how far forward the seat can be.

Most interestingly, he said the idea was to show us what the most efficient position is. Then it's up to us to get our bodies to be comfortable as close to that position as possible, working from our present set-up a little bit at a time and remembering that one doesn't spend more than an hour on a T&T machine.

Then it was my turn, but I had only my road bike. Aldo's eye (and camera) showed my seat was still a bit high, and also too forward. Happily, since stems are expensive, he found the front end to be ideal. More stories ensued, and as we wound down towards bedtime, I heard the rain start falling again. We'll see what the morning brings Aldo's talking about 70 hilly miles tomorrow. We're having a great time regardless.

Day Four - November 29, 2005

Hah! Today was a day to make the whole trip worthwhile! A thunderstorm blew through last night and cleared everything out. Not a cloud to be seen all day. Forty degrees in the morning, sixty by mid-afternoon, and all the humidity disappeared overnight. Just a light wind; absolutely perfect late season riding conditions just like a perfect late October day in Michigan.

For breakfast, Dino showed us that his cooking skills go beyond just Italian cuisine he filled us with French toast for breakfast. After a little stretching, we shimmied into our chamois and set off on what turned into another three and a half hour, 60 mile absolutely beautiful ride, which featured two roads which clearly fit my description of the very best pavement for cycling, ribbons of velvet, a term I picked up from some German cyclists nine and a half years ago along the Natchez Trace, and which I apply to nice, new, totally smooth, black-as-night asphalt.

Today's ride also led us past a number of interesting spots, including a buffalo farm, with a couple of dozen of these enormous creatures is plain sight grazing in a field, more goats, what appeared to be a totally abandoned, falling into ruins church with a nice, new satellite dish in the front yard, and a Lockheed-Martin rocket manufacturing plant on a county road and at least thirty miles from any decent-sized town.

Our halfway point was a town with three houses and one store named China Grove. Aldo has a particular affection for this tiny place because its little park has a gazebo where he married his triathlete-sweetheart, Renee, earlier this year. Of course, I thought of the Doobie Brothers song of the same name, but I recall references to the Lone Star State in that song, so I decided that the Brothers hadn't necessarily been to Pike County, Alabama. As a bonus, about two miles before the end a big, beautiful fox ran right across the road directly in front of us. What a fabulous, unexpected surprise.

I simply have to write some more about Dino, the 63-year-old Italian diesel. Aldo tells us he's had a small heart attack. He admits he has high cholesterol and high blood pressure. He also admits that he doesn't like to take his medication, and hasn't been since he got here. We're all giving him a hard time, trying to coerce him to eat the pills. Aldo asks him what he wants us to do if he has a heart attack and dies on a ride joking all the time, even though they've been friends since they were in high school. That Aldo truly cares and wants Dino to take care of himself is somehow painfully evident as they banter back and forth about coroners, and 911 calls, and exactly what Aldo would tell Dino's wife.

Yet Dino is clearly the hammerhead of the four of us. We're all keeping our heart rates down at aerobic levels, but Dino simply pulls away from us on the climbs. He shifts down less than the rest of us and just rides up the hill one or two gears higher. His form, cadence, and position on the bike look exactly the same when he's rolling down the flats. He rarely stands, and his hands are always on the brake hoods, never the tops or the drops. I hope I ride like Dino when I'm 63.

Portobello mushrooms sautéed in onions for dinner tonight, with baked beans, salad and toast. No desserts here. Only quality food. Aldo is clear on the website: he feeds you good food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If you want something else for a snack, dessert, or food in the ride, you're on your own.

More bike-fitting tonight, then we start a long, serious talk about time trialing, starting with what you eat the day before, when you eat if, what time you get up the day of the event, when to register, making sure your watch matches the clock for the race, and how long before your start to pedal up to line. Did you know you should start with your weaker leg forward? Makes perfect sense once Aldo explains why. After forty-five minutes, he still hasn't begun talking about the race itself. I suppose that's a subject for tomorrow night.

Day Five - November 30, 2005

Another beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky again today. Cooler than yesterday, but still glorious. 35 degrees in the morning, maybe 55 in the afternoon. A shift in the wind explains the change, I suspect straight out of the north today, maybe 10 or 15 mph.

I got hungry towards the end of the ride yesterday, so I really chowed down at breakfast today two bowls of cereal, two pieces of toast and a banana. After some stretching and the obligatory stalling while we waited for the thermometer to creep up another degree or two, we're off, even though it still isn't forty degrees. And yet it's surprising how little I need to be comfortable shorts, knee warmers, wool socks, long sleeve jersey, arm warmers, vest, full-fingered gloves and a cycling hat do the trick.

Our longest and also hilliest ride yet today. Still 60 miles, but lots of medium-sized climbs, including several in the general range of 6th Street hill, together with the wind stretched the ride to a bit over four hours, even though conditions conspired to raise our heart rates higher than any of our previous rides. Besides an enormous chicken farm, a humongous swamp, and lots more woods, we rode past a little white clapboard church with a large sign on the front doors warning Satan, stay away in big, red letters.

Christianity is doing extremely well down here, particularly the Methodists, Baptists, and the Church of Christ. Catholics, Episcopalians and Lutherans are in short supply, to say nothing about Jews or, God forbid, other religions. Without fail, each church has a cemetery on the grounds. In fact, I've easily seen ten times as many churches as bars or clubs, and often one or two churches join the handful of homes as the only edifices in a any particular town.

What's more the people and remarkably friendly and helpful, and we have yet to have a car fail to give us plenty of room on the roads. We wave at them; they wave at us even ornery-looking guys in big ol pickups. In fact, many drivers wait respectfully behind until we wave them around. One gets the overall impression that folks here are a good bit more laid back and take the Golden Rule pretty seriously, a very nice feeling indeed. Northerners could learn a thing or two from folks down here.

After the ride, Dino whipped up some dandy pasta primavera, and then we went for a recovery walk that ended at the Ramer library, where free Internet and email access awaited our web-starved eyes and fingers. We managed a little bike maintenance and laundry before we sat down to a dinner of scrambled eggs, American fries, toast and cider. Tonight, Aldo says we'll finish with bike fit and talk about road racing tactics. Somewhere along the way I've got to fit in some abdominal exercises and some stretching. I wonder when the last time was that I did 260 miles the last five days of November?

Day Six - December 1, 2005

Well, it's one lovely day after another lately, and today's ride was another wonderful, four hour, 65-mile memory. I really doubt more than twenty cars passed us all day, and our route included more woods and less farmland than any of the others so far.

Not nearly as cool out this morning, more blue sky, and nearly dead calm. Dino filled us full of pancakes before we left, and we did our morning stretches too. Aldo promised the ride would be a bit longer, so all of us except Dino (who freely admits he'd prefer to do all the rides with no stops whatsoever) packed a sandwich. By the time we left, all we needed was a jersey, shorts, and arm and leg warmers.

We headed northeast today, into an area that ought to be a state forest, and maybe is for all I know. Just woods, woods, and more woods, punctuated by lots of areas that the loggers have completely cleared. And while we've certainly seen some logging trucks, they aren't all that numerous, and they too are pretty darn polite.

More of a potpourri of road surfaces today apparently we got far enough from civilization that no one worries too much about some of the roads. Maybe ten miles were pretty bumpy with occasional big potholes. The rest was fine, at least fifteen miles of absolutely primo, couldn't-possibly-be-finer asphalt. The only complaint a cyclist could lodge is that none of these roads have paved shoulders. But between the incredibly light traffic and polite drivers, this just isn't much of a problem.

Must have seen 3 dozen turkey vultures today, sometimes three or four in a group. They're simply huge birds, a lot like hawks to my eye. Also spotted a really big, thankfully dead snake at the side of the road. Paid some attention to the ground today, and I realized why there's not much farming around here. The ground is so sandy is would look right at home along Lake Michigan, though it's tinged reddish here apparently due to a bit of iron in the soil. Not too good for any serious crops. We do see a few cattle farms, and apparently they grow a lot of pecans here, though I fail to recognize the trees, and haven't seen any rows of cultivated trees like the fruit trees west of Kalamazoo.

After the ride, we ate soup and sandwiches for lunch, and tacos with rice and salad for dinner. We talked more about racing strategy after dinner, and Aldo spent more time with me working on bike fit. We finally decided that my seat is still too high, and I'll really be interested to see how it feels tomorrow it's lower than I can ever remember having it. I wonder if my knees will rebel.

Over dinner, I grilled Aldo and Dino separately about just how much they've ridden over the years. Neither has any real record of their riding, so all we could do was some educated guessing. Dino's done about 300,000 miles, Aldo about 275,000. I thought the 150,000 I've done was pretty good, but these guys have been riding and racing the last forty-five years, about twice as long as I have, though each of them took a break for ten years or so when their kids were young.

Only two more rides before we leave, and I'm not exactly looking forward to either the long drive or Michigan's December weather. On the other hand, it's isn't often that I can say I could probably use a couple days off the bike this time of year.

Day Seven - December 2, 2005

Last full day today. We leave midday tomorrow. Aldo had to stay at home today and wait on some repair people, so Dino and I went out alone on yet another brisk, beautiful ride. I imagine the high temperature was in the low 50s. But no clouds, no wind, no cars, great roads. And I checked the internet today the high temperature in Kalamazoo was 30 and the radar showed lake-effect snow. Life is good down here!

And, for a change, no Aldo to make us dial it back on the ride. So the two of us sort of worked each other over for 45 miles, in a polite sort of way I was trading nice strong five-minute pulls with a 63 year old guy, with Dino routinely cranking one gear harder than I spun. I really don't know how hard Dino was going, but I spent my time at the front going about an 85 - 90% effort in order to keep pace with an older guy with high cholesterol and high blood pressure who has already had a heart attack. Is this real, or is this Axel in Wonderland?

This really is wonderful down here in southern Alabama, so maybe it is Wonderland. But tomorrow we begin the long drive back through the looking glass back to Kalamazoo, snow, and mostly unrideable conditions for the next three months.

So what am I getting from all this? Is it likely a week of training in late November going to help my riding next year? I'd have answered No? a week ago, but now I most definitely answer Yes.? And for lots of reasons.

For one thing, Aldo's enthusiasm is really contagious. He's a great guy to spend time with. For another, I'm really excited about what I'm going to be doing during the off-season and why. And I have some real plans for what to do in order to make early season riding pay off later on. I understand now how to train properly to sprint, and how to position myself for a sprint-or for a climb. I understand why it's important to eat properly and when I ought to be eating before an event. I understand how to work on my aerobic base and why it's important. I understand more about what makes a proper warm up, and the importance of being relaxed out there.

Think you know all you need to know to get what you want from this sport? I'm betting you don't, and that you'll learn lots from Aldo. Cabin fever staring you in the face? Need your bicycling batteries recharged this winter? Check into Aldo Sfalcin's Alabama Cycling Camp. www.alabamacyclingcamp.com