WITNESS: Zooming around the velodrome

Reuters reporter Deborah Charles usually patrols the political beat on Capitol Hill in Washington but is covering her fourth Olympic Games in Beijing. She is a very keen cyclist at home but has always stayed strictly on the roads. Debbie has long wondered how the velodrome cyclists stayed upright on the severely sloping curves of an Olympic arena. Thanks to USA Cycling, she was given the chance to find out.

By Deborah Charles

BEIJING (Reuters) - I screamed as I reached the top of the steep bank of the Olympic velodrome, then felt the air swish through my helmet as I pedaled around the curve and pushed hard along the straightaway.

I heard someone yell "Up, Up, Up, Debbie!" so I powered my way up as high as I could along the next curve, swallowed the urge to scream again, and pedaled even harder to make sure I stayed upright.

My scream was not very Olympian but I justified it by reminding myself that I am not competing at the Beijing Games. I was just riding a few laps to get an idea of what it felt like to cycle on the track.

I had always wondered how the cyclists managed to stay upright while riding on the steep curves of the velodrome.

So I decided to give it a try and USA Cycling obliged by getting approval from velodrome officials and loaning me a bike, helmet and, most important, expert advice.

I even hung a digital recorder around my neck and tucked it inside my jersey to capture my emotions. But in the end I did not need a recording to remember the scream.

Before I headed on to the track I rode around the infield to get used to being on a bicycle with a fixed gear and no brakes. I was surprised to see Pat McDonough, director of athletics for USA Cycling, jog along beside me to give a few pointers.

Like everyone else, including some of his cyclists, McDonough just encouraged me to enjoy the ride and not be afraid.

"The biggest thing to remember on the track is, it's all about speed, momentum and centrifugal force," said Nick Legan, a team mechanic who rode along with me after the last athletes left the track on the eve of competition which starts on Friday.

"The faster you go, the safer it actually is. That's how you're going to stay up on the banking."

"Trust your tires. They will stick to this," he said of the wooden track. "So you're not going to just fall down."

But despite his assurances I really was scared.

As I clicked my cleats into the pedals and held on to the railing before pushing off, I looked up at the steep banks and just hoped I would not humiliate myself in front of Olympic coaches and officials who were milling about.

In my favor was the fact that the people watching me either did not know me or had very low expectations of how I would ride.

I started slowly, then followed Legan as we went up a bit then back down to the flat section of the state-of-the art, 250-metre track.

Once I got the hang of pushing hard on the pedals Legan had me go in front of him. I decided to just go hard, pick up as much speed as I could and have fun.

The sensation was completely exhilarating. Especially when I would go high on the banks then race down the straightaway, air rushing through my helmet and tires roaring across the boards.

But eventually I had to get off the track so with a bit of hesitancy I managed to slow down and stop without falling over.

As I unclipped my pedals the team soigneur, Viggo Christensen, who had been teasing me before I set off and clearly had very low expectations for my abilities, paid me the biggest compliment I could imagine.

He came up to my bicycle, shook my hand and said; "I'm impressed. It was excellent. It was way beyond good."

He made my night.

I may not be an Olympic athlete but I felt as good as one as I walked off the track. They were right. All I had to do was relax and enjoy myself.

(Editing by Ed Osmond)