Tag: Spidermonkey of the Week

Spidermonkey Spotlight – Vincent Calabro

Spidermonkey Spotlight – Vincent Calabro

Who is Vincent? Is he that guy that lives with Brandon? I thought Corbin lived with Brandon? What do you mean there are three people on the team who work with John Castro? Should we test JPC?

Vincent is the Spidermonkey formerly known as Brandon’s roommate.

JPC BH and VC

JPC, BHall and Vincent at the MS Ride

Ok I’m more than just Brandon’s former roommate and John’s co-worker, so here is my tale told through six bikes:

The Bright Red Raleigh:
I grew up on the fringes of Cleveland with two brothers. The first bike I remember having was a bright red Raleigh. My brothers and I spent countless hours riding bikes in circles on our driveway. When this got boring we played a form of dodgeball on bikes but instead of inflated balls we’d chuck buckeyes at the person whose turn it was to ride the gauntlet. Near the end of the summer, when the weeds next to our house were tall enough, we’d venture out with golf clubs to carve out what amounted to a kid’s version of a cyclocross course. We’d create winding paths with obstacles along the way. The most treacherous was a 1’x1’ pit with broken glass that we placed a board over. Oh the joys of unsupervised childhood.

The Mongoose:
When I was in my early teens I got a Mongoose BMX bike. The Mongoose is notable for only two reasons:

1 – I won it from a raffle at the local Dick’s Sporting Goods.
2 – I thought I was hot shit on that bike.

Therefore in an attempt to impress the girls who lived in my cul de sac I rode the bike as fast as I could down my hilly driveway and leaned to turn onto the street. Sadly the Mongoose had other plans. The tires gave out and I slid across the street. Road rash clearly got all the ladies knocking at my door.

Helmet Test

Helmet Test

Clueless

Clueless

The Bianchi:
When I was 20 years old I worked as an intern in New York City. I was young, poor and wanted to soak up every bit of the city. I determined to take the little money I saved and to buy a bike rather than a monthly Metrocard. This is when I discovered the LBS. I visited them all and I wanted all the bikes (I still do). In a hipster bike shop in the Meatpacking District I met my first love, the Bianchi Pista. It sang soulful opera to my Italian roots. I only realized after walking out to the streets of Manhattan that I had no idea what a track bike was or why my new bike didn’t have any breaks. But as John Castro always tells me, you ride what you have. I rode that bike everyday to work, rain or shine. Nights and weekends were spent sprinting through Time Square and through Central Park. I even rode it on some longer rides like the 5 Boro Ride and Montauk Century. That bike carried me through New York, Philadelphia, New Haven and now daily on the streets of Chicago.

The Allez:
So much hope! So much promise! Then it got stolen out of my basement in Philadelphia. Renter’s insurance is great, but I didn’t have it.

The Surly:
In 2009 I got accepted into graduate school for architecture. As a last hurrah, two of my friends and I decided to do a bike camp from Seattle to San Francisco, and thus the purchase of the Surly. The first three days of our trip, it just poured. If you ever want to learn about the kindness of people, show up soaking wet with all your stuff strapped to your bike. But as soon as we hit the coast it was some of the most beautiful riding and camping.

Gravel and bike camping on the Surly!

Gravel and bike camping on the Surly!

The Fuji:
This is the bike most of you have seen me on. I got this bike during a summer in graduate school. It had one great summer of riding and then sat longing to be ridden. Years passed and I moved from New Haven to San Francisco and finally to Chicago. That’s when I met John Castro. He brought me out to my first Saturday ride and from there I was hooked. I feel so lucky to be able to ride with a team full of such welcoming, friendly, funny and talented riders. The occasional free beer also helps.

Sadly in June I’m relocating to San Francisco with The Minjy (not a bike, a person, specifically my girlfriend). Other bikes might might come and go in my life but I’ll always be a Spidermonkey. Soon Spidermonkey Orange will grace the climbs of Marin County.

P.S.this is an open invitation to join me any time you’re out that way.

To quote the great Cal Naughton Jr. : “we go together like cocaine and waffles”

Vincent and Trenta MTB'ing

Vincent and Trenta MTB’ing

Spidermonkey of the Week – Drew Randall

Growing up I must have enjoyed riding my bike a lot because I still remember the bikes I had. My favorite bike of them all was a Huffy (nothing fancy, just a kid’s bike) with a neon green and purple paint job.

I still can remember barreling down the hill on my street with the wind whistling past my ears, then slamming on reverse pedal brake (if that’s the correct term) to peel-out as I arrived at my driveway just to see how far I could go. Not too far, maybe 2-feet…

Needless to say the excitement of biking wore off in middle school and completely vanished in high school. Soccer was a big part of that. I have played soccer since I was 6 and really haven’t stopped. I got the opportunity to play soccer at a small college in Kentucky, which was one of the best experiences of my life. This was partially due to the lifelong friends I met on the team. College soccer only lasted a year and, long story short, I moved to Louisville, KY to continue my studies at the University of Louisville.

Here I met the single reason I came to Chicago, my most amazing girlfriend Alina. We met during her senior year, my junior year, in the civil engineering program. It’s weird, right? Two engi-nerds. She pushed me to become more competitive outside of team sports. We started running together, because that’s what she did for fun, and well, it kept me in shape for soccer. Running short races led to running longer races (half-marathons), then to triathlons, which became a passion of mine for a short while.

My first 5-mile race with Alina and friends.

My first 5-mile race with Alina and friends.

My first Olympic distance triathlon.

My first Olympic distance triathlon.

Getting into triathlons required me to get a new bike, my first road bike to be exact. It was a KHS Flite 300, the same bike I still do my road biking on today. I remember the first day I got on the new bike, I was so shocked at how squirrelly the damn thing was. To my surprise, it didn’t take too long to tame the wild steed. This became my mode of transportation to and from school on good weather days.

A year later Alina graduated and moved to Chicago. The following year, 2011, I followed once I finished my degree (seems how it works for most guys). I already knew the long distance thing sucked!

Alina and me (Company Dinner)

Alina and me (Company Dinner)

Moving to Chicago with no friends, I initially spent a lot of time at work or doing my own thing (i.e., lifting weights or swimming). Alina introduced me to some of her running friends including Brian Feyereisen who became a good friend and cycling buddy.

In the summer of 2012, Brian and I started checking out Chicago cycling teams. The first team we rode with was super intense and not really my cup of tea. A couple weeks later Brian suggested that we check out the Spidermonkey’s because Megan Kuzydum (now Megan Feyereisen) had so many great things to say about them.

Needless to say that’s how it all started…….

Brian and me at the Spidermonkey End of the Year Bash 2012

Brian and me at the Spidermonkey End of the Year Bash 2012

I started riding with the Spidermonkey’s and after about three weeks or so, decided to take the plunge and become an official member. I felt that this team was the perfect match for my personality (fun, accepting, social, and driven) and I knew after joining the team things would only get better.

Anxious to start the 2013 season, I was hoping to bike 2,000 miles and try out cyclocross. I started chiseling the mileage off at our first ride of the year in March and tried to stay consistent. I went to Spidermonkey Training Camp in Galina, IL where I met a lot of new people on our team, and was able to find myself as a cyclist. In Kentucky the rolling hills never ended and I thought Galina hills would be just like good ol’ Kentucky hills. Boy was I wrong. The hills were RIDICULOUS. I remember two full days of having to pull every last once of energy to attempt to keep up with the team and summit each hill. As I look back on it, it was one of the best things I could have done to become a stronger rider.

In keeping up with my goals, I found a cyclocross bike through craigslist while visiting friends in Lafayette, IN. It didn’t take long to join the cyclocross practices and sign up for my first race partnered with Lindsey for the co-ed and Nate for the men’s race relay. With the first race I was hooked. I signed up for the race at Dan Ryan Woods and placed 12th in the 4/5’s race.

Team Sloppy Joes at Relay Cross

Dan Ryan Woods CX

Dan Ryan Woods CX

Next was the two-day race in Indian Hills and a weekend in the suburbs with the team. Saturday’s race went great as we tackled mud, wind, and rain and I came in 19th place. Sadly, a huge storm rolled through Sunday morning and all races were cancelled so I signed up for the Racin’ Basin in Melas, IL to make up for it. I finished the season at Montrose in the snowy cold. Or so I thought.

A friend talked me into one final, non-CCC race at Douglass Park, the After-Glow. This race was a true cyclocross event and we finished completely caked in mud. The mud made the course very slippery and challenging, but I managed to grab a few fire ball shots (hand-ups) along the way to keep my spirits up. To say the least, it’s been a great season and a great couple of years with the Monkeys and I can’t wait to get riding again!

Afterglow at Douglas Park

Spidermonkey (Alumni) of the Week – Matt Smith – There Will Be Poop

In a nod to that movie about drinking milkshakes, I’m going to name this guest SOTW article There Will Be Poop.  It’s a joke and a warning.  
I’m not really sure how someone who doesn’t even ride bikes is bestowed the honor of SOTW, but if you don’t make a stink neither will I (poop pun #1).  I started riding bikes in high school because I didn’t make the cut for the soccer team.  I was crushed, but were it not for that indignity (one of many), I never would have met Dean some 15 years later and eventually become a Spidermonkey.  More on the Mean Wiener later.
Mean Wiener calling Matt Phat.
In college, Chris (a riding buddy) and I went to Arizona in January for a little early season training.  We rode around on our own, doing stupid stuff like riding past Tortilla Flats (dirt roads) and passing cars on the descent of South Mountain.  Not satisfied with trying to kill ourselves, we called around bike shops looking for some cool group rides.  We passed some test that we didn’t even know we were taking on the second call, and the bike shop guy whispered in hushed tones, “Be at Globe at 7 on Saturday at the corner of such and such if you want to ride with Tony.”  We didn’t think it could be real…riding with Tony Rominger–winner of 4 grand tours and 3 tour stages.  But when we pulled up, he was there, and he was glorious.  He looked a little nervous when he saw us, but who can blame him?  We were a couple of amateurs who thought they could hang with the hour record holder.  Actually, as we would later find out, he was on vacation and not even training, and the team doctor had forbade him from going over 110 bpm or something.  However, Tony can ride at 109 bpm no-handed holding La Gazetta with his right hand and sipping a cappuccino with his left pinky faster than Chris and I can ride our bikes.  After getting shot out of a cannon.  Straight down off a cliff.  With a downwind.
So, after 75 miles or so of this 90-mile mountain death march, Tony sees a gas station and wants to stop.  We had been out of water and food for the last 50 miles, so yeah, we stopped too.  Now we are getting to the point of this story: I had to poop, and in the worst way.  Like, a had-to-poop-30-miles-ago-but-I’m-too-afraid-to-ask-this-man-who-doesn’t-sweat-or-breathe-while-riding-his-bike-at-9,000-mph-to-stop-so-I’ll-just-hold-itkind of poop.  So, imagine my relief when we stop!  We’ll refill our bottles.  We’ll peruse the fig newton aisle.  Maybe we’ll chat over muffins and coffee?   
No.  Tony strolls in, selects a Mountain Dew, and slams it.  Gets back on his bike.  Looks around.  Ready to leave.
I panic.  I can’t ask him to wait while I poop!  Now I have a choice to make.  Do I bum rush the bathroom and hope everything goes well (and super quick) and Tony doesn’t leave?  Or do I play it cool and try to limp in the last 20-25 miles, Tony never being the wiser?  I chose door #2.  Riding with Tony was like winning the lottery…I didn’t want to flush it all down the drain and get left behind!  I put on my best poker face and got on my bike, smiling on the outside, ready to explode on the inside.    
I didn’t make it very far.  I rode up to Chris and told him that I needed him to come back for me with the car.  Chris nodded.  He’d been briefed on the potential situation.  And just like that, I slid out of the back of the pack and crawled into the ditch on the side of the road at the base of a mountain in Arizona.  I will spare you the grisly details, but suffice to say that I discovered an alternate use for and now have a healthy respect for roadside litter.  For those of you just joining in, yes, I pooped in a ditch and wiped my ass with trash.
Yum.

On the bright side – when Chris got to the end of the ride Tony looked around and said, “Where’s Matt?”  Chris told him that I had stopped a ways back.  Tony turned around and pointed his bike back down the mountain.  Chris stopped him: “No Tony…I think we are going to need the car for this.”  Tony nodded with a knowing smile and then disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

Fast forward to 2005.  I hadn’t ridden for several years and had ballooned up to about 230. I decided to start riding again and found a group that rode from Higher Gear on Fullerton (R.I.P.).  This is where I first met Dean.  He would constantly tell me how fat I was.  He would say, “You’re fat!”  Dean was and is a real Mean Weenie.  My only goal in life was to drop Dean.  But, he motivated me to lose weight!  For that I thank him.
Dean always credits me with being a founder of Spidermonkeys.  Dean is very generous – we all talked about it but he put in all the work.  So…I’m glad I never made the soccer team.  I’m glad Dean told me I was fat.  Without all that I never would have had great Spidermonkey experiences, like the 2011 North Shore Century: 9,000 Flats Edition.  
Silver linings everywhere.
Living the High Life.

Spidermonkey of the Week – Anna Loosli

Wow, after reading the amazing posts by Kelly and Paul, I feel like I’ve got a lot to live up to! Many of you may not know me – I haven’t been on a lot of team rides this year and only got to know the Spidermonkeys at the end of last season – and between grad school and internships and work, I felt like I hardly had time to ride this year! I’m going to make up for it next year, though, so look out for me then! In the mean time, here’s a history of my relationship with two-wheeled transport.
First Bike. At the age of about 4 or 5 years, my older sister got a red and black BMX bike for her birthday; it was so bright and shiny I immediately determined I would get a bike of my own, even though I did not know how to ride. I got her hand-me-down, with training wheels, which I didn’t mind because they meant I could go wherever I wanted without fear of falling or knee scrapes! My sister was of a different mindset – and after having to ride around the park with me a few times she couldn’t handle the noise, and refused to ride anywhere with me again unless I took them off. My next bike memory is being pushed down a grassy hill – toward the street – by my sister.
            Hitting the Slopes. Luckily the story must have ended well, because the training wheels were never put back on, I didn’t wind up in the hospital, and my next major bike memory is getting a mountain bike in junior high. Red and black, like my sister’s old BMX, I think it was a Trek and it made one major, but memorable, excursion to the early June mud of Teton National Park before it got stolen. My best friend and I had decided we would simply strap our snowboards to our backpacks and ride our bikes up to the snowpack, hike, and ride down. We sadly overestimated our biking skills and never made it to the snowpack, let alone rode down it on snowboards!
            Many years later, working in Portland, OR, I decided it would be brilliant to get a new mountain bike so I could explore the major metropolitan forest preserve, and hopefully parts of Mt. Hood. I got to know Forest Park fairly well, but soon moved to the East Coast where the bike fell into disuse (pavement makes nubby tires sad), and I took the subway more often than wheels. New York was too much city for me, and being underground was claustrophobic, so I got myself a cheap steel frame off E-bay and began adventuring the main roads of Manhattan to get my adrenaline fix. Riding the streets of New York was amazing, so when I relocated to Chicago for grad school in 2009 the first major purchase I made was a little mixte commuter from Working Bikes. Once spring rolled around I got myself a road bike.
Road Bike. Mmmmmmm…  I knew absolutely nothing about bicycles when I bought that bike. I just knew I wanted it, and there were no mountains around so I had to find something to do with myself outdoors. Over my first summer in Chicago, we made friends. I rode my bike a LOT, and decided I would do the North Shore Century on it, just because. My bike was awesome. It needed to do something important!
I trained and rode alone most of the summer because I didn’t know anyone else I felt comfortable riding with. By the end of July, though, I was getting worried about the ride – I’d never done a century before. Were there rules to riding in a group? How would I know how to do it? How would I be able to keep going after mile 75? What if I crashed??
            After asking around with a couple of friends who raced, I found out about the Spidermonkeys, contacted Vanessa, and decided I would at least “try” to keep up during their last Saturday morning training ride before the century. I was slow. And I got dropped. But it’s a no-drop ride, so John was nice enough to hang back and try to coach me through the last mile or so to Highland Park, using terms I’d only heard on television and concepts I’d never applied to riding a bike before.  It was very kind, but it didn’t really help me get there any faster. I pretty much decided that even though I loved my new bike, maybe I needed more practice; maybe I wasn’t ready, or maybe I should just give up and do the century next year…
            But by the following Sunday, I had changed my mind back and figured I didn’t have anything to lose. I could always turn around at the metric century point, and I was determined to at least make an effort since it had been a goal all summer. I had no idea what to expect and didn’t even know anyone’s name, I just looked for the Spidermonkey jerseys in the parking lot and got up the courage to walk over and introduce myself. I asked if I could tag along, and never expected to keep up past the first rest point, let alone the entire ride. THANK YOU! To everyone who was so supportive! Vanessa, Dean, John, Kristi, Grace, Geoff (particularly when we got lost before the last checkpoint), and everyone else who rode with the group last year – I managed not only to keep up with the group that day, but LOVED it! It was way more fun than I ever expected and, even though I got dropped (before the last checkpoint) I managed to finish with some Spidermonkeys towing me along. In sneakers. And mountain bike shorts. (I do NOT recommend the latter, lesson learned!)
North Shore Century in Sneakers!

            Soon after the NSC, I signed up for VQ and got to train with everyone for several grueling weeks. I had no idea how hard it was going to be! Sadly, the VQ sessions ended midwinter, school took over my life, and the rest is history. Not quite… I did get inspired by Grace and Kristi on one of the girls’ rides to sign up for the Chicago Triathlon. Trent and Geoff held a (private) tri clinic with me that was a major help in setting up my transition space. Even though I trained with Team WILD (women inspiring life with diabetes), I tried to go on a few early morning rides to keep up appearances, which is how I wound up discussing cyclocross…

Chicago Triathlon!
            I didn’t even know what cyclocross was at the beginning of last year. Now, after two seasons riding a road bike I can’t believe I didn’t know about it before! I participated in the Half Acre clinic in September, on my old mountain bike from Portland, and decided it would maybe be fun. I wasn’t convinced. All that jumping on and off your bike, and carrying it? Mmmaybe not… But thanks to Kelly’s invites to practice, as well as the rest of the Spidermonkeys’ enthusiasm I decided to take my bike out to Sunrise Park – because it had rained and I had to ride a mountain bike. I was hoping it would be a benefit in the mud.
CX = Awesome!
It was. A little bit. More important, I realized I’d had a blast once I recovered from the gasping and burning sensations in my chest. I vowed to race again.
            A few weeks later, I hadn’t been back on my bike but I read about the Indian Lakes course and had been updated on all the Spidermonkey success and went ahead and registered. Note to self: do not race bikes (especially heavy mountain bikes – thanks for the reminders, Dean!) if you haven’t been practicing. Because I ended up deciding mid-race that I was NOT having fun. Once again, however, I felt great a little while later and was really sad I hadn’t tried harder. That may be my motto next year – rider harder, go faster! And maybe I’ll try the heavy bike out in Palos instead…

Indian Lakes CX

            This ended up being a lot longer than I originally thought it would be! To end it, I’ve had an awesome, inspiring and fun time both riding with the Spidermonkeys and participating in some of the other events they’re involved in. Their competitive nature keeps me on my toes, but for someone who loves going fast (just about any way you can – surfing, snowboarding, biking, lead foot…), I am not competitive and have gotten turned off by the need to WIN in the past. I love riding with the Spidermonkeys because most of the time it’s okay to ride just because you love it. Because it’s fun and it makes you feel good. If you can win while doing it, that’s just an added bonus.
Spidermonkey Ladies

Spidermonkey of the Week – Paul Halupka

When I sat down to write about cycling and what it means to me, I ended up writing for about two hours and basically documenting the history of my love for bikes throughout the course of my life. Rather than posting the Complete Works of Paul Halupka, please enjoy the following excerpts:
Exquisite fashion sense from the first purchase.
ON THE DISCOVERY OF BIKES AND THEIR INHERENT EPICNESS
I started riding a bike when I was very young, riding lots with my little brother in my ample front/back yards in Alabama. I had this little blue Huffy that I rode the crap out of, and no manner of throwing it around or leaving it in the rain to rust could destroy it. Oh, the years of my life spent on coaster brakes… I remember them with a special gravel-skidding fondness.
Fast forward to my early teens, and the purchase of my first real bike. Some how I came up with $180 and threw down for this awesome candy-red Mongoose mountain bike at Wal-Mart. Holy crap, aluminum frame! Suspension fork! 21 Speeds! I didn’t know why that was good, but I liked the sound of it.
I found some amazing adventure on that bike.
I remember my first two epic rides. The first was with my dad and little brother. I may have been 14, my brother would have been about 11. We rode on Easter day. It was cool but sunny. We pushed so far into the mountain’s trail system that we eventually were just riding dry creekbeds and descending into raw forest. Two hours into the ride, we were riding and walking through this patch of the woods that looked like an Alabama Ferngully. I’ve never seen a piece of woodland that looked so verdant, mossy, and lovely. We eventually exited the forest by riding out into a cow pasture, climing over a couple of barbed wire fences, and riding the main streets back to the other side of the mountain where we’d parked. Mom was pretty pissed because we were super late for the nice Easter dinner she’d prepared, but in my mind I didn’t regret it for a second. My dad died a couple years later. My little brother and I remember it with a glowing fondness, a singularly special bonding moment for the three of us.
The second epic ride was with the first guy I ever considered a bike teammate. Alex, a friend since elementary school, got his hands on a dual-suspension Mongoose. After a few months of mountain biking, we went and bought matching Primal Wear jerseys and formed our two-man bike team. Throughout high school, we would throw the bikes in my van or on his bike rack and drive to the nearby mountains to tear up the trails. On one of these rides, I had a brilliant idea. Let’s ride around the military base, which was nestled into the mountains and foothils, and just climb every hill we can find or think of. I learned that day the true joy of overcoming gravity, of conquering just a tiny piece of the earth. There’s no feeling quite like it. The day closed with a ride to the top of the tallest mountain on-base, on a gravel access road that you’d need a tank or Humvee to climb, as demonstrated by the ruts everywhere. We found ourselves at the peak eventually, where we stared up at the radio towers that we’d seen our entire lives, flickering at us from miles away. That day we took the sky and brought it closer, then we descended like maniacs, racing furiously and nearly killing ourselves like teenagers are made to do.
I recently found a trip on the REI website where you fly to France and do all the great climbs of the Tour. Yes, please.

The mud keeps the flies off.

ON FINDING THE SPIDERMONKEYS AND WHY THEY ROCK MY WORLD 

I ran half marathons in 2010, and then took on my first Olympic tri in Spring 2011. Once my little tri training crew started breaking apart, I decided it was time to find a bike team. I started digging around online, and narrowed it down to xXx. (Yeah, no shit.) Something about the serious attitude of the club was really attractive to me, despite how ugly the kits are, and that a bike team has the same name as a Vin Diesel movie.
On paper, they were the perfect fit for a newbie rider with competitive aspirations. But a couple of things fell through where they shouldn’t have, and I was left feeling like they weren’t the right fit. Next on my shortlist was this bizarre listing online for a club called Spidermonkey. The website was about three years outdated but I thought it was worth a shot. So I emailed the Info account, and of course Vanessa was incredibly warm and welcoming from the get-go. And we both liked that my orange bike matched the kits perfectly. I did the Saturday ride, felt the love, and knew this was the right move.

A truly happy boy.
ON FALLING IN LOVE WITH CYCLING AND DISCOVERING WHAT PASSION REALLY FEELS LIKE
At some point in 2011 it occurred to me I could watch cycling on TV. I watched the Tour de Suisse and the Dauphine, just kind of learning about team tactics and time trialing, things I’d never really knows about before. Later in the summer, I started watching the Tour de France. I DVR’d the entire thing and watched every stage from the prologue onwards.
In the second week of the tour, I realized there was a deep and unsettling change occurring within me. Something about those Saturday and Sunday mornings and coffees and muffins, something about watching “Little Tommy Voeckler” ride years off his life in the mountains, something about Wednesday night rides with the sprints and competition and respect, with the High Lifes and barbeque chips, something about the colors and logos of skinsuits, the smell of fresh chammy butter on my bibs, the feeling of wearing a kit that matches the man you’re drafting, the battery acid burn of pushing your limits, the barbaric nature of moving a chain and cogs in a battle with the forces of physics…
Oh shit. It hit me.
I called my girlfriend. Though I meant to share the catharsis I was experiencing, the realization of my first true passion in life, it came out like a warning. I may have been warning myself as well. The truth is, I had no idea, but my instincts were right. I was swept up by a tsunami of all things bike-related.
Since joining the Spidermonkeys, which I affectionately refer to as The People’s Bike Club, I’ve learned so much about this sport. It’s not just a hobby, it’s a culture. It’s steeped in tradition and history, both ancient/European and recent/local. The list of cycling’s attributes is long and interesting, but everyone has their own favorite stuff so I’ll keep it to myself.
We can all agree that it has many beautiful facets. But perhaps my favorite is the sublime characteristic of the bike team, a poetic interlocking of the ways we carry each other, both physical and spiritual. We physically break apart the atmosphere, creating a safe space in which we carry our friends. Think about it. That’s a powerful gesture, and a grand metaphor for the friendships we develop here.
As cyclists, I think we take pulls for each other in life as well, through smiles or a shared beer, or full-fledged friendships. These things are both simultaneous and reciprocal as we rotate through the paceline. At least that’s what I’ve found in it. Maybe it’s contrived, but it’s one of the realest things I’ve known.
Thanks to all of you for being a part of that, and for being a part of my life. Here’s to more epic rides, more love, and grander metaphors to come. Here’s to the People’s Bike Club: my beautiful, maniacal Spidermonkeys.
You look like you need a hug. Or a back rub.

Spidermonkeys of the Week – Roxanne and Scott

Hmmm.  Where to start?  First cycling memories – Scott had a purple stingray 5 speed (pretty sure it was a banana seat with handle bar tassels).  He was going downhill from the library FAST, hit a pot hole, went over the handle bars and had the wind knocked out of him.  Worse yet, after the crash the bike “literally fell from the sky” and landed on him.  According to Scott, “It sucked.  It was a wicked bike though”.

Wait a second, nice frame, but what is he wearing??

Me? I remember riding my Schwinn around my family’s two car garage (as the youngest child I had to find ways to occupy my time on my own).  My next memory was learning to ride with no training wheels and smashing my VahJayJay on the bar.  “Ouch”.  With those first fond memories, it’s kind of amazing I even own a bike today!

Roxanne looking good!

Fast forward 20-some years later, February 12, 2001, Scott and I have been dating for a few years and we make our first major purchase together. Nope – not a car. Nope – not a house. We bought bikes. I had never ridden a road bike before. I don’t even think I knew what a road bike was. I had a 7,000lb commuter bike that I occasionally rode on the lake front. Yet, my boyfriend was talking me in to buying a custom frame….true love = $$$. For the next 10 years we rode our bikes sometimes together, but often separately. I did a few triathlons and Scott did some ambitious rides on his own including a solitary century. A big ride for me was riding the path up to Botanic Gardens. There were seasons where I rode my bike as few as four times.

true love = $$$

Somewhere in there I met Dean through the Lakeview YMCA. It was back in the day when the classes were held in the basement, and often candles were the illumination of choice by the instructors. Dean was a “hard core” spin participant. You could tell by his coordinated outfits he was a serious cyclist. And you could tell from his commentary he was truly an introvert.

In the past couple of years, during their “hard core lifting sessions” at the Y, Dean had mentioned to Scott several times that he should come ride with the group. This past May, Scott had mentioned he was going to go for a ride with Dean and his group. I was planning to go for a solitary ride – that’s what I’m used to. Scott suggested I come along. I decided I would just go and see what happened. We waited at Ravenswood and Bryn Mawr. It was my second ride of the season. Turns out it was a “special ride” on Memorial Day – 67 miles to Old School – my longest ride ever, and it was hot as balls. I was scared to death! I think it was adrenaline that got me through it.

The MS Ride was just an amazing couple of days. We were not yet “official” Monkeys and had started off the first day…suddenly we hear a chorus of “Rooooxxannnne” and are literally scooped up by the team.

Rox and Scott – not “official” yet

I was totally hooked after that first ride and started doing the Girls Rides as soon as I could. Those rides were such a blast and everyone was so supportive. I vividly remember Vanessa encouraging me to get in the rotating pace line and doing it for the first time. It was SO AWESOME!

I have ridden along Greenbay and Sheridan on my own enough times to see groups of riders go flying past me. Every time, I get that rush of excitement – the same one I get at the Air and Water Show when the fast jets whiz past. Wowwww! That is so AWESOME!

From boat ramps to keg stands – the MS Ride, weekly rides, rainy rides, flat tires, crazy parties, Harmon Hundred, Northshore Century, Apple Cider Donut Ride, Cross Races, safety clinic, VQ, pushing up that hill, pulling at the front, feeling the groove of that pace line, getting dropped, just barely hanging on, and getting a push……the people we’ve met, the enthusiasm of each and every Monkey – we’ve created some amazing memories and friendships in these last 10 months. We are proud to be part of THAT group that whizzes past with a spirit of inclusiveness, support, diversity, safety and FUN!

“official” ??

We are proud and thankful Monkeys! XOXOX

p.s. – couldn’t resist posting this one from the 3 Floyds ride!

Spidermonkey of the Week – Kelly Clarke


What’s up Monkies?! Last week I wrote an article for a contest that explains how I got involved with Spidermonkey Cycling (Pretty. Fast.), so rather than rehash that I thought I would use this space to talk about what I’ve learned from a year of being a Spidermonkey.

I spend a lot of time in front of a computer. One of the websites I frequent between designing or programming is Tenspeed Hero. It’s based in Chicago, and I enjoy the smart, sometimes off-kilter humor. But at first, the name of the online journal really bothered me. Are you calling yourself a hero? How pompous! It just recently occurred to me what the Tenspeed Heroes were doing. In fact, it occurred to me yesterday at Indian Lakes, during the 4B cyclocross race, when I yelled out to Batgirl, “You’re my hero!” as she passed me right before a grueling incline. (Batgirl is Catherine Watkins who rides with Higher Gear. She wears a batman costume when racing in the 4Bs.) Batgirl is not the first person I’ve called my hero this year. I’ve said it a lot since becoming a Spidermonkey. I even felt a tinge of guilt when I called one person my hero in earshot of another proclaimed hero. Can you have more than one hero?


At first I used the word slightly in jest, to indicate that I was proud of someone’s awesomeness. “Hero” is a strong word. Labeling someone with such a descriptor for something as benign as riding a bike is like talking about if you want kids on a first date – too much, too soon. But in a way, I mean it very seriously. There are heroes that do incredible things in different places and different times that I know are amazing, but they aren’t within my realm of personal experience. It inevitably affects your pathos more to see people you know, in a similar experience as you, achieving personal growth, undergoing pain, or doing something that someone outside that experience might view as small. Because you compare it to your own experience and understand the effort it took, you understand the acts of these familiar people to be extraordinary.


The word “suffering” is often synonymously used with cycling. That word also is and isn’t too strong of a descriptor. We aren’t suffering in that we aren’t starving, in the same way that we aren’t heroes wearing capes (well, some of us…). Cycling is an arduous love affair, though. We aren’t changing the world, but we are changing ourselves – learning from the struggles presented by cycling. On a grand scale, we see this exhibited by people like Johnny Hoogerland. On a personal level, we see this in our teammates – riding faster, gaining more watts, changing a flat tire faster, and pushing themselves in new ways. If there was no suffering or sacrifice, there would be no heroes and we could not become greater.

To answer my question, you can have more than one hero. I have many. To name a few:

  • Anna Loosli for racing cyclocross on a MOUNTAIN BIKE
  • Justeen McNett for starting the season not wanting to do the 70 mile Easter ride, then finishing the season with a windy and rainy century! (Justeen, the improvements I’ve seen you make this year have been astounding)
  • Katie Isermann, Trent Williams, and Kim Brokhof for making the correct decision to NOT race when they really wanted to, but knew they shouldn’t due to injuries
  • John Castro and John Lyon for taking me mountain biking – going slower than they needed to, waiting for me on the trails and having tons of patience to help me learn.
  • Vanessa Schilling for raising an incredible amount of money on behalf of our team for the MS ride
  • Everyone that did a marathon, triathlon, and the crazies that did an Iron Man (Fred Wu)
  • Everyone that volunteered their time at the Chicago Marathon, Bike The Drive, Bike To Work Week, ect.
  • Josh Green, Mike Meyers, Dean Okun and anyone else who stayed behind when I fell off the pack and helped me catch up
  • Stewart Chapman for finishing the Burnham Racing Spring Super Crit and racing cyclocross this year
  • Kristi Hanson for getting 6th place in a cyclocross race when hungover
  • Grace Chappell for getting 4th place in a cyclocross race in Wisconsin AFTER crashing in that race
  • Peter Monko for having no fear on the dance floor
  • Monica Pencz for owning the audacious ascents of California numerous times
  • Geoff Scott, Ken Mitchell, Matt Daniel, and Mike ‘Butters’ Berman – our liaisons at Get A Grip, for hosting classes on bike maintenance and being incredible supports on rides and at races
  • All of our group ride leaders for extending their experience and skills, allowing us to have fun and safe rides

I could go on, but this has already become saccharine. A year ago, I didn’t know any of you. Over the past twelve months, I’ve been impressed by this group as a whole, and if I’ve gotten to know you at all, chances are that you’ve weaseled your way onto my hero list somehow, maybe even more than once.

I don’t think the Tenspeed Heroes are being egotistical in their namesake at all. It’s a nod to their friends and fellow cyclists with humility and reverence. Thank you, fellow Spidermonkeys, for inspiring me and letting me learn through your efforts. (Even though I am still unsure how you’re meant to pluralize Spidermonkey when referring to the team and not the animal).