Levi's Gran Fondo Ride Report-Jon H-10/9/10

Event: Levi Leipheimer's King Ridge Gran Fondo
Date: Saturday, October 9, 2010
Distance: 103 miles
Summary: Epic

This was the second edition of Levi's ride. A year's experience made a big
difference. Everything felt smooth and well organized. Last year it fell on my
anniversary so I did the Medio (100K) route to get home in time for dinner. This
time I went all in and tackled King Ridge. It was awesome. Definitely helped
that the day was perfectly clear with very little wind.

Lining up with 6000 riders was crazy. Amazingly, more than half the people were
from outside California. And up in the front there were some young guns: Taylor
Phinney and Ben King, some not-as-young guns: Fast Freddie Rodriguez and Dylan
Casey, plus a whole bunch more names I sort of recognized.

We rolled out at 8am and it was chilly until the sun made it up above the trees.
The first 30 miles were mostly flat with just a few rollers. The pack gradually
thinned and I settled into a good group. We worked together and covered the
distance in less than 90 minutes, even with the slow start.

Then I made my first rest stop before starting up King Ridge. I should point out
there were eight rest stops over the 100 miles. This was great to help reduce
the crowds and I never had to wait in line the four times I stopped to refill.
(Don't judge, I drink/sweat a lot.)

The climb up King Ridge was really two climbs. The first wound through the trees
and reminded me of Tunitas or the lower part of West Alpine. After a descent,
the second was through open ranch land and we were rewarded with amazing views
of the Pacific. Up on top, the narrow road was definitely bumpy though not as
rough as I had expected. The descent to the coast was technical and fun.

The stretch down highway 1 had the most traffic of the day, but there were
plenty of CHP officers keeping an eye on things. Also worth noting is there was
traffic control at every intersection, allowing us to roll through all the stop
signs, and I only remember one traffic light along the whole route.

The last big challenge of the day was the climb away from the coast up Coleman
Valley Road. It started pretty steep then mellowed as it went on a little longer
than one would hope. Again, the views from the ridge were well worth the effort.
Finally, I was flying down the other side into Occidental, then cruising along
the flats back to Santa Rosa. Another improvement this year was that the last
few miles along the bike path have been paved. Finishing on gravel last year
wasn't as fun as you'd think.

The Gran Fondo isn't a race, but everyone gets a timing chip and eventually the
results will be posted. I didn't try to kill it, took my time chowing down at
the rest stops, and finished in a little over 7 hours, with 6:27 of ride time.

This event is a terrific way to cap off the season. Having joined the CoreTechs
team and riding a lot more this year, I felt about 10 times better at the end of
the 100 mile route than I did at the end of the 100K route last year. Definitely
a reward for all the hard/fun work. There is a reason this event sells out so
fast. It would be great to do it with a group next year.

Thanks for reading.
-Jon

The 2010 season has come to an end (at least as far as racing goes). What a great inaugural year for the CoreTechs Cycling Team. We have 28 team members right now, with the group split evenly between those that race and those that ride. We have five Cat 4 racers, six Cat 5 racers and one Cat 3. All of our racers are in the 35+ age category, though that would not prevent us from having younger folks race with us. Cat 5 is the entry level. You need 10 Cat 5 races and then you can upgrade to a 4. I encourage anyone interested in racing to try it out. It really is a lot of fun. There is no judgment on results, just go out and have some fun. Woman can race too by the way! We will be looking to add a few new teammates for the 2011 season, so when out riding, start recruiting riders to join us. Just have them email you and then forward to me or go to our web site for contact info (www.coretechscycling.com).

I wanted to give special thanks to Gordon at Fitness 101 and Dave at Ironkey for the tremendous support they provided. Really could not ask for better sponsors. The GREAT news is both have agreed to again sponsor the team in 2011 (along with CoreTechs). So, we will be back for year two! If there is any way you can support these businesses, do so! Check them out at www.fitness101.com and www.ironkey.com.

We also had some great non financial sponsors, including Menlo Velo (located in Menlo Park on El Camino). They offered the team some significant discounts on service, bikes and gear. Now that the off season is here, get your bike tuned up or get an upgrade from them. The discount they offered is fantastic, but regardless, their service and advice has always been top notch. Make sure to mention you are part of the team to get the discount.

Michael Kim (CoreTechs team rider) has gotten into the bike fit game. He took a week long course from the bike fit guru in Seattle and came back fully armed with knowledge. I admit I was skeptical at first, but I had Michael fit me to my bikes (two of them). He did a Fantastic job. He uses a laser machine to monitor pedal stroke and really dials in the position. If you are interested, email him at mykim@prodigy.net.

Through your membership the team was also able to donate $1500.00 to the Lucile Packard Children's Hospital. This is a not for profit team, so any and all funds that are not used for equipment or sponsoring riders, goes directly to this charity. On this note, your 2011 dues will be $30.00 bucks. What a deal! To entice you to sign up early, as long as I have your size in stock, I will get you a pair of team socks with the sign up…as they say, while supplies last! For our sponsored riders (Cat 3/4 team we cover this. More incentive to upgrade for those interested)

So what do we have planned for year two? I would like to be able to donate even more to the Packard Children's Hospital next year! I was also thinking about a potential team bonding/training day up in Bear Valley during the winter. They have a great cross country ski area there. Thought we could get a good work out in and have some fun doing that for the day. Since Laura is an expert level cross country skier, I thought we could recruit her to help us out. All the team is invited and we would have a place to stay that weekend or if you want to bring the family, there are some very reasonable rentals in the area. We will also have our second annual team BBQ and many group rides.

Our race team will have a four "key" events in 2011. The full schedule will be announced once the race schedule comes out. We will though do one stage race in late March. The Top Sport Stage race in Copperopolis, CA - 2hrs from Bay Area. It is a two day race. They have a circuit race and a TT on Saturday and a road race on Sunday. Another team building event!

I think the whole team would enjoy the Levi Gran Fondo in Santa Rosa. That is a century ride that can be done at any pace you like. It occurred just this last weekend, Oct 9th. Jon H did the ride and loved it. His ride report will be posted just after this note. (URL: http://www.levisgranfondo.com). Could be fun for all of us.

We have lots of gear left as well. If you don’t have a full kit (jersey and shorts), make sure to contact Gordon (gbliss@fitness101.com). He can hook you up with the jersey's or shorts. Also looking for gear input. I have lots of thoughts, but would like to hear from you as to what gear you would like us to get.

I am contemplating ordering an alternative kit to go with our current white kit. One thought is basically the same kit but in reverse colors. So where there is white, it would be black and where black, it would be white (except on the shorts. Don’t need white shorts. They become a bit see through and I certainly don’t need that view when you guys go to the front). Kind of a Winter kit or cooler temp kit (since the darker color would be good for that).

If you use FaceBook, make sure to become a "friend" of our team. Just search under CoreTechs Cycling Team on FB to find us.

Finally, give me some feedback. Is there anything you want to see or do in the 2011 or anything we can do to make this a better team? Would love to hear from all of you!

Stay in shape over winter!

Circuit Race: Monterey: Andrew-4/5 race

Central Coast Circuit Race (in Monterey at Fort Ord-Oct 2nd-they run this three times a year)
Commute: 1:40
Cat 4/5: 25 racers
Teammates: Mark Foster, Gregg Shores

I ended the year as I started, 4th place. Arrgg. Have to say it is all a matter of perspective. When I finished fourth at the Top Sport Stage race in Copperopolis last March, I was thrilled. Now; not so much. I have found that I need to learn to finish a sprint. I seem to under gear so that when I start the sprint, it feels good, but then spin out at the finish. I find you can not shift up during the final of a sprint, so I am stuck in a seated sprint. I have done this several times and it has cost me each time. I guess that gives me something to really focus on this winter.

The race started at 11:15am. I love that. Just great to not have to wake up at 4:30am to get to a race. The course is on closed roads, though twice a car passed us and once we saw two recreational riders out on the course, so keep the eyes open! The first lap started very leisurely. No one was willing to hammer, so we road it at a nice pace for a warm up. The course basically has three hills. Each is short, maybe 250 meters, and none are very steep. I would say the steepest (hill number three) is about 7%. There is then a sweeping downhill till you reach a 90 degree right turn. After that turn you have about 150 meters to the finish which is a slight up hill (maybe 5% grade). I noticed that in the September race, the guy who won it was in our race. He was wearing a Mission Cycling kit, so I kept an eye on him.

On lap three they had a prime. That is a prize to the winner of that lap. For this race it was a bottle of wine. I had no intention of going for it, but was in second position coming around that 90 degree turn to the finish so figured what the heck. I sprinted for it and was passed about a bike length from the line by the guy in the Mission Cycling kit. At least now I knew he was one to seriously watch!

There were a few surges here and there but there but for the most part the pack stayed together. Coming into the last lap (I think we did six laps) the pace picked up and you could feel the tension pick up with it. I wanted to keep myself in the top five to eight riders so I had a shot at the end. I would jump from one rider to the next as someone would try and shoot out for a lead. Coming into the final right hand turn I found myself in third position. Once we hit that 150 meter to the uphill finish, I sprinted past the second guy and was closing quick on the first guy. With about 25 meters to go I was spinning and could not stand so had to stay seated. All I could do was try and pick up the leg turnover. I got to half a bike length of the leader when two San Jose Cycling team guys pushed through. They knocked shoulders with me to squeeze through on the line. All four of us crossed the line within a tire of each other. Turns out the guy who won was the teammate of the Mission Cycling kit guy I was watching (there were two of them in the race). The guy I was watching finished in 5th, so I beat him!

This is a very fun course and pretty safe. There is one turn that you have to pay attention too. It is just before the downhill to the long straight away that leads to the 90 degree finish turn. Otherwise it is straight forward. The hills make is challenging, but not so challenging that you have to worry about them. It is a good power climber course. Not for those little guys who climb OLH in 17 minutes. More for the big strong guys. I will do this race several times next year!



Andrew
www.coretechscycing.com

Winters RR-Andrew-Cat 4 35+ 2010

Winters Road Race (1:45 hrs from Peninsula)
Cat 4 35+ (44 racers)
Teammates: John Pauley, Chris Scheetz
Place: 6th

This is a fun race. It is slightly rolling with one Sandhill distance climb about 2/3into the race. The hill has two sections. The first is through the feed zone and is probably about 4% grade. It is not a difficult section, but gets you a bit out of breath. Then you hit a flat for maybe 1/8 of a mile till the next climb. That section is fairly steep (about 7%) and about 500 meters long. The climb is followed by a rather steep and twisty descent. It is a fun downhill, but you need to be on your game as you can easily overcook a corner and find yourself in a bit of trouble. You do two laps with each lap about 24 miles.

The key to this race is surviving the hill. The first lap the group broke up on the hill, but then regrouped afterwards as no one wanted to hammer the second lap till we made it back to the hill again. Once on the hill the second time the race heated up. I made sure to stay in the top five or six guys so as not to get gapped. Once we hit the final switch back of the climb, I was really hurting. I had thoughts of cracking. I am sure the people at the finish line 10 miles away could hear my breathing at that point. Still though, I hung on and came over the top in about fifth position. We went screaming down the back and hit the bottom with about a five second gap on the next seven guys. The five of us tried to pace line and stay away, but the back seven eventually caught us. We were now a pack of 12. We then worked to stay away from everyone else, each person taking about a 30 second pull at the front. We were moving pretty good. The finish is about five miles from the bottom of the hill. I tried to stay patient, but was getting anxious. When we hit the 1k to go sign some guy took off full speed up the road. Another chased and I got on his wheel. We caught the front guy who then slowed with about 500 meters to go. We were all back together again. Then with 200 meters to go another guy launches off the front. I am boxed in on the right side of the road with someone directly in front and on my left. Unless I want to get real aggressive and probably crash, I have no choice but to wait till the guy in front or on my left takes off. With about 150 to go they do. We are hammering. My tongue is hanging out and I basically hold my position through to the line. I end up 6th and win the coveted T-Shirt.

This is a good race. The hill offers a challenge and prevents the lollygagging that occurred at Dunnigan. At the end of this race, you feel like you raced. Good to see the team well represented too. I posted a few pics on our web site, so check those out.

Dunnigan Hills Epic Story: Mark Dames-Cat 5 45+

Race: Dunnigan Hills
8/14/2010
45+ Cat 5 group.

Rider: Mark D.

Steve McQueen said, “Racing is life. Everything else, is just waiting”.
Well, in Dunnigan, there was a lot of “everything else” going on.
The racing was, shall we say, limited, and when it did happen, it was over in about three minutes.

Let me begin with the waiting.
This was to be a racing double header for myself and my daughter who would accompany me to the aforesaid bicycle road race, and co-author a relay team effort at the Folsom Olympic Distance Triathlon on Sunday. The plan was to leave early by noon on Friday to beat traffic on the drive up to Woodland where we would spend the night before the Saturday morning race in nearby Yolo. (Why this isn’t called the “Yolo race” escapes me, and I’ll explain the thin connection to Dunnigan later). The “waiting” began in earnest on I-80 when I suspect an obligatory summons was sent out to every Contra Costa County goof with an automobile advising them that I was approaching Fairfield and that they should immediately flood the freeway with SUV’s going 5 mph so that my forward progress would be impeded to a crawl. The good citizens of CoCo County were attentive to their duties, and successfully extracted two hours from my life, which tragically will never be recovered.

Arriving in Woodland, further delay was threatened when the motel clerk advised that my online reservation was made for a smoking room (they still have those?) and that no non-smoking rooms were available on the ground floor. As it happened we were in luck per the clerk, as a baseball team had just cancelled, opening up a second floor non-smoker. Fine, we’ll haul the bikes to the second floor. Gimme the key.

After checking in we drove the five minutes to the Yolo exit off I-5 to reconnoiter the race course. This a 43 mile, clockwise circuit of county roads, along the flat farmland of the Woodland area. The roads are mostly dead straight, set at right angles to each other, in giant grids that are reflective of the square mile farm plots that typify rural areas. Occasionally, hilly topography presents the anomaly to this pattern, and some curves and climbing opportunities appear on the course. John Pauley has cautioned that there is a crucial left turn crossing Highway 505 that will turn into a fierce, pelaton splitting wind. Those who are lagging behind the leaders at this juncture he advises, will be subjugated to playing catch up and will likely fail. We find the aforementioned turn along a frontage road that has been following 505 for five and a half miles. At the juncture of Road 14, the frontage road rises gently to the freeway overpass level wherein the left turn lies. Across 505 road 14 winds and twist with ups and downs before falling back down to the valley floor for a dead straight run due West to a right turn at Road 85. Pauley advises that this entire segment is critical. Stick to the leaders or you’re done here. Several miles down 14 I pull over and get out of the car to test the wind. It’s not a head wind but is coming from the side and behind, a three-quarter tail wind. I wonder if the time of day is the difference. I also note its 92 degrees out. We complete the reconnaissance of the route arriving at the final leg, a right turn at the “town” of Dunnigan (a cross road junction with a couple of buildings) , and a flat 10.9 mile straightaway South on Road 99W. I think in automotive terms a lot, and this section screams out for high speed, the kind of triple digit mile per hour blast one might due if a Ferrari was nosed down this stretch of asphalt. I don’t know why but I’m thinking huge pulls by organized teams and breaks are going to go down here.

The race finish is just off 99W on a cross street that crosses the adjacent I-5 Freeway on Road 96. We make the turn and explore the road. It ends in a “T” a half mile after the overpass. Somewhere along here the finish line will be. Andrew has advised that the decision in the race will likely be made on the sprint up and down this overpass. I’m not entirely comfortable with letting this go down to a holeshot on an uphill stretch. The 96 cross street is almost imperceptible from the rest of the landscape along the vast length of Road 99W. We return to identify some landmarks. Several large silos are on either side of the road just before the turn. Those will be my markers. I decide, somewhere before the silos, I’m going to launch.

The race website advises that race registration will close at 7:45 am with race waves starting thereafter. The next morning I’m there by 6:30, I get my number, and park. Andrew, Mark F. and John H. show up. Gregg S. is in route but has to wait in a crowd that is competing for limited registration resources. We wait. The start time gets pushed back 15 minutes. We wait some more. The start is on a side road leading to Road 17, and the 43 mile loop. Hundreds of racers are here. I note numerous teams, Taleo, Wells Fargo, Smith Barney, Webcor, and many others. The organizers line up the waves, give brief instruction about staying on the right side of the road, and send them off. One wave seems to have over a hundred people. Andrew and John P go off. Finally it’s the 45+ cat 5 group turn. Mark Foster, Gregg Shores and myself are lined up. I recognize several guys from the Copper Town race, including Thor Hushovd’s lookalike and his teammate. Taleo has three riders in our group. They’re rail thin and look like bike racers. I expect them to be a force. One guy joining the lineup gives cause for concern. He’s wearing a motorcycle helmet with a face guard, the kind you see dirt bike guys wearing. The helmet only partially contains a long beard and wild frizzed hair which seems to explode out the back. He looks like a helmeted Hagrid from the Harry Potter movies. I guess that this chap regards bike racing as a contact sport. Hmmm. I’ll keep my distance. The Coretechs trio poses for a photo shot taken by Gregg’s wife Susan. Having memorialized his appearance, Gregg’s rear tire then blows out, just as we are sitting on the starting line. He offers his apologies for having to withdraw without a sweat and promptly makes lunch reservations. No goo packs for him today.

At 9:30, the race starts and a pack of about 35 riders is off. I try to stay near the front, about 10 riders back. Mark F. does better and is generally in the first 5. The roads are narrow and we’ve been advised that if we cross the center line we’ll be disqualified. There is a race referee following our wave on a motorcycle to enforce the sanction. This makes positioning in the pack a bit dicey. There are large tractors and other pieces of farm equipment that lumber along these roads which make excursions into the opposite lane inadvisable. Within the first ten miles a solo break goes off the front. He gets out several hundred yards and hovers there looking back to see if anyone will join him. No one does. He gets swallowed up within minutes. I am nervous about getting gapped. I stay close to the wheels in front. They are going to provide me shelter from the Pauley promised hurricane winds that are coming up. I have a business card sized race map zip-tied to my handle bars. I glance down to check the mileage on each segment to compare with my bike computer. I want to be ready for every turn. During one of my map checks I nearly run into a rider in front of me. I decide not to do that again. As we approach mile 13.8, the critical turn to Road 14, the group seems to get antsy and starts to crowd forward on the run up to the overpass. Hagrid is off the pavement passing people on the gravel. I believe something is going to happen. I accelerate to the front.. We are up and around the turn and I tuck in behind the leaders. We roll into the hills at a brisk pace. People are up out of the saddle keeping the pace high but there are no break away efforts. The feared split in the pelaton hasn’t yet occurred. When we flatten out onto the valley floor I expect a huge push at high speed to split the group. It doesn’t happen. I keep to the left side of the pack to avoid what I perceive is wind coming from the right. The wind appears moderate. No gales are blowing out here today. We get all the way to the Northbound right turn at 19 miles without event. Now undulating hills take us up and down numerous rises. The schizophrenic leaders accelerate up hills, then slow on the downhills, sometimes threatening to crash the too-fast approaching rear of the group. An hour into the “race” and we’ve passed the selection point, I’m not tired, not even working hard. I start to think I could make it to the finale. I expected a sustained hammer-fest attempt by the leaders to thin out the crowd, but this group appears to have no such ambitions. We turn right on Road six, a section with more undulating hills and several miles along the pelaton suddenly slows. Dismounted riders from a previous wave are out in the middle of the road waving us into the other lane. We come upon a bike crash with a victim lying prone on the pavement. As we pass the scene the front end starts to accelerate. It’s a little more than a get-back-up-to speed acceleration. Maybe this will be the attempt to split the pack. It doesn’t come to pass. The entire pack reforms.

We come out of the hills and pass over I-5 for the right turn South on 99W and the 10.9 mile straightway. I wait for a team to try and pull away. I wait in vain. No one goes. After a while I see silos in the distance but they are only on one side of the road, not the silo landmarks that straddle 99W on both sides at the final Road 96 intersection. We move past at a methodical pace which is slowing. Miles go by. Instead of the usual two-across single file lines, guys are arrayed across the entire lane and are dogging it at 20-23 mph. They are blocking any movement up. I’m boxed in at the back. The pelaton seems content to dawdle along in anticipation of the final sprint. I’m not game for that. I try to get around on the dirt side of the road. No one is moving to let me through. One guy comments “I want this wheel” meaning he doesn’t want me to impede his draft of the guy immediately in front. Geez, I just want to go around ALL you guys, Get out of my way! I try and move left to the center line. There’s no room there without violating the center line rule. Minutes drag by. Even Hagrid makes no move. A crease finally opens up on the left side of the pelaton. I look at my odometer. We’re at 41 miles and change. My google maps route has calculated the route total to be only 42 miles and change. The twin silos are less than 1 mile off now. We are still at parade pace. We need some chaos. I decide to take off.

Up the left side I go head down and pumping. As usual Mark F. is near the front when I go. The speedometer goes to 30 mph. I know at least one guy has jumped on my tail but I keep going. I hope that Mark F. is being attentive but I can’t look back. This is it. This is my two minutes of glory. I imagine Phil Liggett screaming “Dames has gone, Dames has gone!” I’m out in front with less than a mile to go. My jersey is zipped up in anticipation of the finish. Somewhere up there the helicopter cameras must be following my every pedal stroke. No doubt now the sponsor is going to renew my contract for next year. Time and distance seem to compress. All the oxygen goes to the leg muscles and my brain goes dormant. I can usually hold a time trial tempo on a dead flat in the 25-27 mph range for a while, but now 30 looks like a nice number on my speedo, and this is pure adrenaline rush so I decide to stick with 30. Hey, why not? It seems like I’m leading for an eternity. In reality its probably a minute plus of red lining effort. This feels good. I have control of my own destiny now. Thoughts of amortizing my effort are dismissed and I keep the pedal to the metal. All my chips are in. There don’t appear to be any other contenders for the front. They’re probably all back there huddled in the draft debating why I didn’t get the dawdle message.

I’m not yet at the silos when the leg muscles start to mutiny. I send down orders for more engines but the glycogen and oxygen stores have been exhausted, and the speedometer is falling off precipitously. I’m desperate for more speed and downshift to get my cadence back up. If I can just make it to the turn I can practically coast home. I’m down to 25 mph when the pelaton hammers by me. Not just a few of them, but everyone. I attempt to latch on to their draft but to no avail. They are like greased telfon, and I can’t grab them. I need a rope and a grappling hook, anything. It’s no use. I’m going backwards. I’ve gone from 30 mph missile to torpedoed barge in less than a minute. A Cancellara seat-tube motor (ask Laura about this) would be nice about now but I’ve failed to plan in that regard. There’s no pity in the pelaton. No words of encouragement, no thanks for the lead out, are uttered as they fly by. They shed me like a used candy wrapper to the curb and move on. We pass the silos and turn onto 96. The overpass looms large, and I get out of the saddle to struggle up the hill. Somewhere up there the race is being decided without me. I summon the spirits of Old La Honda, and surprisingly my legs respond. I crest the hill still at a modicum of speed and spin down the other side, up shifting again and again, gasping for more O2. Two targets appear in front of me. One guy looks spent, the other guy is sitting up as if confused about the finish. Ha! Ducks in a barrel. I claw my way past them both ---finish line ! I barely make it out of the cellar. At the front Mark Foster has made his way to fourth place! Congratulations to him for back to back finishes in the points.

After 42 miles of riding, this turns out to be a one mile race.

Lessons learned:
I’m glad I drove the course before hand. Knowing what was ahead gave me more confidence. The finish line, and last turn landmarks were also good to know.
Now that I’m figuring out how these races go it occurs to me that one’s sprint time and speed over given distance should be a known quantity like a 40 or 100 yrd dash time is for a football player.
I could see a benefit to practicing maximum effort pulls to see exactly how long time-wise and over what distance one could maintain a solo pull at a given speed before blowing up (example: 30 mph for 1 minute and ½ mile). On race morning I’d then backtrack that distance from the finish line and find a landmark for my launch. My idea of what I could do, and reality turned out to be at least a quarter mile off.
All in all a great learning experience.

Dunnigan Hills RR-2010-45+ Cat 5-Mark Foster

Race: Dunnigan Hills Road Race
Race Date: 8-14-10
Distance: 43 miles
Class: 45+ Cat 5
Rider: Mark C. Foster

So here I am again writing up a race report for my third weekend racing in a row, and the fifth bicycle race in my life. Now although I’m a newby bicycle racer, I have literally hundreds of motorcycle races logged over a twenty year period. So I definitely have a lot of racing experience in leather, but not in spandex.

I have numerous accomplished bicycle racing friends that told me Dunnigan Hills can be a tough race. I have a lot of respect for these riders so I took it seriously and prepared for another sufferfest equal to the likes of Patterson Pass. I knew it probably wouldn’t be as painful, but there was only one way to find out…ride the race.

The week before Patterson I felt crappy, but the week before Dunnigan I felt good. I have no idea why the difference, but I was glad ‘cause good is always better than crappy.

Andrew, John and I met in Portola Valley at 0 dark thirty and loaded up his car for a morning blitz up to the race. Dunnigan is in Woodland, Yolo County and does a 43 mile loop around hwy 505 and hwy 99 just north of Hwy 80. It took us an hour and a half to get there. I hard boiled some eggs the night before and had a leisurely breakfast on the way up. It was an easy drive and I was looking forward to a nice Saturday ride in the rolling hills of Yolo county.

Registration was fairly painless. I did notice that the longest lines are for the old guy classes. Apparently as we age and go through our midlife crisis we all decide that bicycle racing will keep us youthful and fit; or maybe it’s a way to make the everyday pain of life seem downright pleasant when compared to the suffering we endure during a bicycle race. Either way, it seems the majority of racers at these events are over 45. So relatively speaking, at 48, I’m just a kid…..nice!

Since the start of our different class races was over a half an hour apart, my car mates warmed up with out me; and when I got out there to warm up, I decided to go check out the finish which was a couple of miles from the starting area. I saw on the course map (that Mark D. handed out), there was a right turn to a short straight over a freeway overpass then a short blast to the finish. They were closing the road to through traffic and letting us use the whole road. That’ll be pretty crazy, sort of like the pros we watch on TV….cool. I rode over the freeway and saw that it was not a short blast to the finish at all, but a 700 meter straight shot after the overpass. Way too long for me to sprint. Note to self,”Don’t lead into the last turn or over the freeway”.

Mark Dames, Greg Shores and I lined up for our race at about 9:30. As we were waiting for our start, a tire popped and the sound of 120 psi leaking to zero ripped at our eardrums. We all looked down at our bikes to see if we were the unlucky bloke who flatted at the starting line. After squeezing my tires I was relieved to find it wasn’t me. Greg wasn’t so lucky. His rear tire died at the line, and with sew-ups and no time, he was screwed. Race over. Yes we were all lucky Greg couldn’t inflict his can of industrial strength woop-ass on us. Even though it was one more person I didn’t have to race, I was bummed for him ‘cause I knew how excited he was to ride;as this was his first race…Damn!

The race started at around 9:35 or so and had 39 riders signed up to race. I knew one was out and that left 38. I never counted to verify the number but it didn’t matter anyway because I was going to ride the whole race at the front. I was told to do that, because Dunnigan has a couple spots where a break will work; so if you’re not prepared to go with them, then you’ll finish behind them. I wasn’t going to miss that opportunity should it arise. The pace was very slow, so staying at the front required a little maneuvering around because I wasn’t the only one who wanted to make sure he didn’t miss a break. I wasn’t worried about a one man break, nor was anyone else…there were several of those. Sure enough they came right back to us. One guy took off a few times, I was curious as to where he’d be in the end…his doping regimen gave him confidence, but not brains. At this beginner level no one could or would get organized enough to try a real attempt at a break. So the race was super easy for 41miles. We were chatting and laughing and having a wonderful Saturday stroll through the rolling hills of Dunnigan. No pain other than having to take a leak…bummer. I didn’t need all that water at this pace. We did roll up on the aftermath of a bad crash. The ambulance and fire truck was there with some poor racer on the ground writhing in pain…not good. I didn’t wear a heart monitor, but other than the last couple of miles, that was probably the highest my pulse got during the ride, was from the sympathetic pain of watching the aftermath of that crash. I didn’t wear it ‘cause I figured it didn’t matter because I was going to hang on to whatever or whomever started to hammer, regardless of what my Garmin said. I wasn’t going to psych myself out by looking at the numbers…like at Patterson. I was hanging on or going up in big ball of lactic flames and coronary overload. Yep…a do or die….didn’t need a heart monitor for that; pain was my monitor. As it turned out there wasn’t much pain. In fact, climbing with our loyal Coretechs teammate Laura Sterns is much much harder than riding in this pack. I was starting to worry that this was just way too slow and this race was going to be won by the best sprinter and fitness was going to have very little to do with it. With about five miles to go, Mark D. told me the turn was at the two big white silos, so be ready. He had been leading the pack off and on and I had a feeling I knew what he meant. He pulled everyone a few times in the last few miles and then with about a mile or two to go before the turn, he took off like a scalded ape! It was beautiful. He was down low and hammering. The pack took off after him and I settled in to a comfortable fourth position or so and everybody’s pulse was going up and it was game on! That was exactly what I needed; a little suffering before the sprint to soften up some of the stronger guys. Thanks Mark! He pulled a long way and must have completely spent himself in a blaze of selfless glory, because I had no idea Mark was so strong and flat out mad, it was awesome. I like to think he did it for me, but I’m not sure. He may have just been feeling a deep dark anger inside that made him want to turn himself inside out due to sheer masochistic self destructive insanity that few of us ever experience. Whatever the reason, all I knew was: he threw himself on the grenade and lit off the beginning of two miles of fireworks not spent yet due to all of the extra powder we had left to burn from such a meandering pace.

The rest is sort of a blur so it’ll be interesting to hear Mark’s perspective, but what I remember is a big guy hammering by Mark and me jumping on to his rear wheel as he passed me and me not letting anyone in as they were trying to get over to grab his wheel too. I have no idea what happened to Mark after that, I’m assuming he locked up at some point and limped in to an agonizing finish.

It was perfect. I was second coming into the final turn. As the next guy passed me, I could grab that wheel and so on, for a glorious finish. Then the leader blew the corner and went straight into the dirt on the left side of the road…Damn. Now I was leading with too far to go before the finish. I backed off a hair so I wouldn’t lead over the overpass, and sure enough, two guys split me. One on each side, and they were flying! I lit my afterburner to stay with them and went after the wheel on my right and stuck to it like Velcro. I wasn’t giving up. After what Mark did, the least I could do is try 100% with everything in my soul to hang on…I did. I was in a great position to win this thing, when I looked up and saw a police car blocking the entire left lane and about a third of the right lane…Oh my God! This was not safe and a potentially really bad situation was forming in front of me… in fast motion. All of the sudden my mind went from, “I’m gonna win this thing!” to, “Holy Crap I really need to survive this thing” Now you couldn’t see the finish line and we all started moving to the far right, so to not smash into three tons of flashing steel. I thought about the other thiry-five riders right on my tail ready to pile drive me into the side of the car just in case I survive the first impact!. This was ridiculous. I had to back off a hair so I wouldn’t hit the guy in front of me and immediately there was someone on my right so I couldn’t go there. I missed the cop car by a few inches and was boxed in. I dug deep after passing the obstacle, but my drive had been thwarted by the dude on my right who had a better position. I powered through the finish in fourth place….Damn. Still good, but not what I thought it could have been if there was a clean unobstructed finish. Apparently, I seem to be a better sprinter than I thought and I gotta admit the adrenaline from that final sprint was up there with all of the other things I’ve raced. Now I’m starting to get addicted to racing and fully understand how the pros get hooked. It’s a lot of fun when you’re not suffering the entire time…go figure. Unfortunately that’s my last race of the year(I think). The next race the team is doing is full, unless I sign up for the open Masters class. That might take some of the fun out of it and put the pain back in. Either way, I’ll see you guys and gals on one of our team training rides!
Ciao, Mark F.

Patterson Pass RR- Mark Foster - 35+ Cat 5 Report

Race: Patterson Pass 8-8-10
Course: 2 Loops for a total of 46 miles and 4400 ft of climbing
Conditions: Windy and around 70 degrees F
Class: Masters 35+ Cat 5
Coretechs racer: Mark C. Foster

Patterson Pass Road Race is not one you do for fun….it’s not fun. If you’re not a good climber you probably won’t do very well, but you’ll suffer either way. My first ever bicycle race was Patterson in 09’ and I swore I’d never race a bicycle again for the rest of my life. Meeting Andrew and joining the Coretechs team made me break my promise. He convinced me racing can be fun and after Copper Town, I will agree that he’s right. I felt I had to ride Patterson again though, to redeem myself after last year’s miserably painful failure. Last year I made a lot of mistakes, but basically suffered in the battle for fifth place for two hours and then cramped up so profusely with only four miles to go that I was reduced to first gear and eight miles per hour on the flat. People were passing me at the end like I was chained to a post. I finished 15th in 09’. It took me a long time to fully recover because obviously I twisted myself completely inside out.

Now here I was a year later, smarter and better trained. The weather was twenty-five degrees cooler this year and you could tell by the windmills that the wind was howling over the top of the first climb….Yipee! I needed to be able to keep up with the leaders over the pass and try to recover and have something for the finish. The fear of cramping was etched into my brain so I bought “enduralites” to try to get through this miserable race without locking up somewhere before the finish. I also carried other food which I was going to force myself to ingest. Water was critical last year, so I was going to force myself to drink both bottles before the neutral feed zone so I could grab two more and be hydrated for a strong finish…I didn’t do that last year…to my demise.

I’m not a great climber by any stretch, but would classify myself as pretty good for a Cat 5 guy my age(48). To put it in perspective for you bay area riders, I can break 19 minutes up Old La Honda but not back to back. I’d been trying to climb recently, but seemed to have worked too hard the week before Patterson, ‘cause I was feeling kind of blown out and “bonky”. So I rode super easy Thursday, nothing Friday, and an easy spin Saturday before the race. By Sunday morning I felt OK, not great, but not bad either. I spent the night in Livermore at a friends house, Craig Ayers, who I shamefully convinced should ride the race with me…he did. It was his first race and I did warn him that he would feel more pain than he’s ever experienced cycling and might in fact cramp up. He said that he had done plenty of centuries and has never cramped, so seriously doubted my premonition of him cramping… he put a bunch of my “enduralites” in his jersey just in case. Yea, OK, we’ll see.

I was running late and didn’t get much warm up before the start and unfortunately knew the pace was going to hurt, seeing as the race starts with a 1500 foot climb in five miles. I’d be warmed up soon enough. The race started and didn’t seem too bad. It was super windy so I tried to hide in about forth or fifth up the hill. The pain level was tolerable, I looked at my Garmin as the front group crested the first hill, we had been racing for 25 minutes, with a long way to go. I led the fast decent down to north Flynn Rd and was wishing there were some technical sections so to use my twenty years of motorcycle racing experience. Unfortunately it’s basically just a straight shot until it flattens out. I soft pedaled hoping I’d get passed so I wouldn’t lead into the next section. Sure enough, I dropped back and was in a great place to endure the next small climb. It seemed the pace quickened up the short 500 foot climb on N. Flynn or maybe I was feeling fatigue, either way my pulse was climbing and I was slipping back in the pack of what was now 15 or so riders. I couldn’t believe there were so many guys that hung on during those ascents…damn! The grade leveled out and the wind seemed to back off a bit and I was able to hide in the pack and force myself to eat and drink. I got through one bottle by the time we crossed over 580 at Altamont Pass and was actually starting to feel a little better. I was near the rear feeling pretty good and we came into a fast chicane(right – left) through a stop sign that the cops were controlling to allow the racers to bomb through it. The guy I was following checked up and parked it through the corner so a ten to fifteen bike length gap formed in front of him as the pack started to hammer. Damn it! So I had to sprint to close the gap and it took way too long to catch back up. By the time we caught back my pulse had nearly redlined again as I expended way too much energy for following a strong rider afraid to go fast through the corner. We dropped three guys in that little mishap. The pace was brisk all the way to the right turn on to Midway where the pace slowed. It remained slow all the way back to the start/finish area, so it was at this point that I finished my second bottle of water and forced down some more food. I felt really full but was going to grab more water at the neutral feed zone anyway to prepare for the final loop from hell.

After grabbing two full water bottles at the feed zone, I got in front to try and slow the pace. The wind was horrendous. I don’t like leading, especially on a climb in a headwind! That worked for a couple of minutes but then the climbers decided to have none of that tactic…the pace quickened and I dropped to the back of the pack. I was still OK, but my pulse was reaching the high 160’s and I thought about tossing my water to lighten the load. Then came Satan and his band of devils… The young leaders of a different race caught and passed us about halfway up the climb. The climbers from our group wanted none of that humiliation, so our pace picked up to match theirs. I tossed one of my waters as my pulse passed 175 and climbing. The pain worsened…180. Do I toss my last water? I stood up and hung on for another few minutes, but then it happened…a gap. S**T! The wind started howling again…the gap widened…pulse 183. I pushed harder. The pain was more than I could handle, I just couldn’t get it out of my mind, I couldn’t hang on any further, If only I felt better…I CAN”T TAKE IT ANYMORE!! I was suddenly alone in the raging wind….alone watching the pack pull away. I can’t catch up. So the wheels basically came off the cart right then…I got dropped and there was no way to get back on because I still had over a mile to go of climbing with a 20% grade at the end. So at that point I pretty much knew that as far as getting a good finish, it was over. For the rest of the hill I passed other suffering loners from other classes who long ago lost their race as well. We were racing against the demons in our mind now. I finally reach the top…too tired to be angry. The decent wasn’t technical enough for me to catch up and there were too many guys to reel them in on the flat….game over. So I decided not to blow myself out for this week and just finish. I slowed and let my pulse drop to a less painful level. A couple of other guys got dropped on the next hill and I kept them in sight the entire rest of the lap until the finish. No one else caught me and I caught and passed a few solo riders from other classes who were also blown up, dejected and just trying to get home. Yes, we were all doing the ride of shame. At least I wasn’t reduced to pile of drooling goo, cringing in pain, going eight miles an hour on the flat like last year. This year was different…still lonely, but different. I had recovered from my climbing debacle and there was power left in the motor, but no sprint finish. No chatting after the race. I ended up five minutes behind the leaders at the finish. 2:19:00 according to my Garmin. 11th place. I felt like I had a bad day, but life has a lot of those and this was just another one. No big deal. I rode Patterson because I knew it’d be really hard for me. As we all know, pain seems to be a big part of this sport and there are times when you can break through and keep going and times when you can’t. If one of those insecure thoughts hit you at the wrong time, it’s over…you get dropped. Unfortunately I couldn’t push through the pain. I still like the sport, but it is very humbling for an old novice like me.

Oh, I almost forgot. My buddy, Craig, finished the race…barely. He started cramping on the big climb of the second lap and suffered through the entire lap…but finished. He had never cramped at all before and couldn’t believe it and how brutal it is. It took him three hours to finish, but I was proud of him for not giving up! Apparently we all face our own demons at Patterson Pass.
-Mark F.

VERY FUNNY Race Report: Mark Dames-45+ Cat 5

Race Report: Copper Town 7-31-2010
Mens : 45+ Cat 5
Filed by: Mark D.


The morning of July 31st started for me in the deepest woods of Arnold, California, where I had been in training retreat for the past week. I was swimming, biking and running at 4500 feet, amidst the fresh air, pine trees and splendor of the mountains. The preparation had included several bike rides with several thousand feet of climbing and several runs up and down the hills of Blue Lake Springs. I figured my altitude embellished red blood cell count was now rivaling any EPO enhanced TDF contestant. I had allowed myself a generous two day taper, going into Saturday morning. I was ready for this pivotal moment in my racing career. 5:00 am my alarm went off and I suited up in the CT gear, had breakfast, loaded a cup of coffee, and set off down the hill to Copperopolis.

If Arnold is, as my wife describes “Heaven on earth”, the race site of Copperopolis could best be described as Dante’s Inferno. 3000’ lower, in the rolling foot hills of the Central Valley, its featureless landscape is vacant of any shade, and the subject of regular 100+ degree heat during the Summer. The actual town, a backwater stop off Highway 4, looks to be a hodgepodge of tattered structures whose purpose seemed to have passed somewhere in the early part of the prior century. I had driven by this town many times before, but never dared to stop. It seemed the type of place where vultures might circle in anticipation of any living thing which might attempt to cross the desolate landscape. As I approach, I am mindful that the CHP has a station here, and regularly crawl the adjacent highway in search of inattentive speeders. I slow for Copperopolis, but continue on the highway for about a mile to what my youngest daughter refers to as “Mickey’s Toon Town”, a reference to the Disneyland theme area. “Copper Town”, as it was named by it’s developer, is a surreal apparition, rising off the highway, like a Hollywood Western set, about a mile from the original town of Copperopolis. A replica of a Western main street, with a city hall like structure, quaint storefronts, city square, and meandering side walks, it appears brand new and sporting freshly painted exteriors. Built by the Dole Corporation to augment their golf resort and residential development 4 miles away, Copper Town, stands almost completely vacant, as if waiting for a play or movie filming to start. Fully, four-fifths of the shops are empty. If Copper Town has one significant attribute, it’s free and bountiful parking. All around the “town” are vacant parking lots waiting for tourists who never arrive. I select a spot, park, and make my way to a cabana in the picturesque town square where race registration is set up. They ask for my license. Ha! I’m prepared for this. I’ve got one. I hand it over with casual confidence. I’m part of the “in” crowd, I’ve got a team, I belong, I’m here to take home some prize money, where do I sign for it? They give me a number and tell me it goes on my right, backside, but sideways. I have no idea what they are talking about. I ask them to explain. (They don’t have electronic timing chips, there’s a video camera at the finish line to record finishing places) My cover is blown. This is my first bike race.

The day before I had driven down with my oldest daughter to reconnoiter the route. She blocked behind in the car while I road the 5.5 mile loop on my bike. I recorded about 18.5 mph in 19 minutes to complete it. I wasn’t trying to go really fast, but I was attempting a brisk pace. Andrew had advised to expect 22-23 mph average speed. This concerns me as I perceive a fair headwind on the way out, and an extra 4 mph in pace would have cost me a lot. I estimate I have to last four laps to complete the one hour race.

Race morning I am confident and feeling good. My bike is stripped per Andrew’s advice, sans aero bars, tool kit, and extra water. He asked me if I was kidding when I asked him about any proscriptions against aero equipment. His admonition that they’re banned brought a similar “Is he kidding?” query from my wife. Cultures collide. I am a triathloner, where drafting is banned and draws four minute time penalties from the race referees, where it is man and aero machine in the race of truth against the clock. This is new territory for me. Some sort of Neanderthal purism, that frowns, nay banishes aero technology. I wonder how serious can they be. I’ve forgotten getting blown off the back of the Spectrum ride at the first ascent some months ago. I am Samson, ready to enter the Lions’ den.

John P. arrives and parks. I recognize the Leopard bike on top of his car before I recognize him. There is a stern countenance about the fellow which suggests he is deep in thought, or committed to the task at hand to the exclusion of other worldly influence. He emerges from his vehicle and takes off for race registration. Andrew, Mark and Christian arrive. Each has a similar grim determination that seems to smolder beneath an apparent unconcerned façade. We go out for a warm up ride. Andrew counsels to “be near the front on the turn arounds”, “don’t lead the pack, let someone else do the work” , “don’t chase down breaks”, “get third wheel for the best draft”, “keep the heart rate low” , “conserve for the final sprint.” He’s broken this down into a game plan formula. Probably an adaption of his old Marine Corps play book. These are serious guys.

I believe I’m going to get dropped on the first lap.

Race start comes. It all seems surprisingly informal. No loudspeaker, no national anthem, a single guy with a couple of words about “British style” riding (the opposite side of the road) and a whistle. It blows and we’re off. The initial couple of turns in town take us out to Little John Road, a new wide stretch of road with a center divider that’s been built to access the golf resort of Saddle Creek four miles away. It hasn’t begun to show the degradation of 100 degree heat and blistered asphalt. It’s smooth with gentle rolling hills. I take the 3rd wheel thing seriously and sprint after the second turn in town to get it. To my surprise it’s uncontested. We hit the main road and the pace gradually increases to 18, 19, 20 mph. Number 1 starts to lift the pace, 21, 22 mph. He holds the pace, I hold #3. This is easy in the draft, I’m not seeing how this is racing. Our pack leader looks intent on setting the pace. I’m enjoying the benefits. After several minutes number 1 breaks right to stop pace making and number two immediately drops back in response. I’m suddenly in my first bike race and in the lead! Well then. I can lead this pack. I drop down and hang my forearms off the front to get aero and start to pump. We’re going 23, 24 mph. I’m a minute into this and remember Andrew’s admonition “stay third”. I’m working too hard. I hear Phil and Paul in the back of my head talking about the “tremendous amount of work being done at the front of the pelaton”. I complete the thought, “by the dummies with big egos”. I pull off to the right and yield the lead. I get along side teammate Mark Foster. He comments about the speed (or lack thereof) and that his heart rate is only 110. I confess that I didn’t bring a heart rate monitor. He’s got some max heart rate that’s way above what I once had five years ago. He’s a contender. I try to chat him up for race strategy and sprinting experience. It’s his third race and his sprint experience is going up Old La Honda in 19 minutes. I disclose I’m a bit off that pace ( by 10 minutes ) and this is my first race. He moves up to toy with the folks at the front.

Coming back on the other side of the road is the 35+ Cat 4, pack who started 3 minutes before us. I see Andrew and John near the front of the group. Andrew is 2nd or 3rd. John lurks close by. I wonder what they’ve got planned. They fly by.

We get to the turn around. This is mission critical per Andrew. Be in the front going in or get relegated to the accordion effect and have to catch up. I get it done reasonably efficiently and don’t have to accelerate very hard to stay with the front. A couple of miles more and we’re back in town snaking our way around the town square. There are spectators sitting along the square on benches observing the race. Tourists in the vacant town built for them to come. Non-racers. The emptiness of these lives shocks me.

(OK, OK, I plagiarized that last part from Tim Krabbe)

Back to the race. I complete lap one. I haven’t been dropped. The pace is actually easy. Lap two is much the same. An easy pack ride. Is this just about guys with big thighs trying to snap the cranks off in the last 200 yards? I think about trying to go off the front, but the third wheel admonition keeps coming back to me. The situation changes on lap three. Folks are starting to move forward. Foster is being a complete insubordinate and is leading the pack for significant periods. He’s surging up hills then backing off on the downhill, testing the group. I find this difficult to keep pace with. I’d much rather surge downhill, or on the flats. A slight hill takes us past the finish line where they are ringing a cow bell to signal the final lap. We sweep through the town square at the end of lap three and I have to get out of the saddle to maintain contact with the group as we settle in for the fourth and final lap. We’re heading out on the last lap at a higher pace. I try to key on two guys from my age group who are wearing the same team jersey. One small guy leads and a huge guy trails him. I follow the big fellow. He has the look of a Thor Hushovd who may attack in the final sprint. I envision a huge vacuum behind this chap, sucking me forward. Riders are jockeying for position who hadn’t before as we approach the turn around. I’m no longer in third position and have slipped back in the pack as we go through the turn around. Somewhere there must be polka music playing. As we emerge from the turn I’m doing that accordion thing and sprinting to catch up (a violation of Captain’s position rule for turn arounds ). This gets my heart rate up which I try but fail to get back down after catching the group. The herd is accelerating for the barn. I struggle to stay with them. I’m looking for Thor, but he’s gone up the pack. Trying to approach the front now involves moving around and out of the draft, a seemingly diminishing return exercise. Next hill and the group really surges, I’m off the back now , and it’s a sprint to the finish, down a slight hill and up the final hill to the line. The elastic hasn’t snapped but it’s stretched to the limit. I have incrementally gone redline over the course of the final mile. Not hammering into it like stabbing the accelerator to the floorboard, but a slow drawn out climb into oxygen debt that has my lungs burning and legs looking for more power. I’m 50 yards back before I realize what’s happened. The dashboard light for lactate acid threshold is blinking wildly. I get aero and spin for dear life trying to catch the group. The VO2 max light goes off, the computer is warning, “shut down imminent!” I keep it floored. I haul in one straggler and pass him but he catches my draft. Where’s the race ref when you need him? I close to within twenty yards of the pack but can’t get any closer. I completely miss the show of Mark F. at the front puttin’ the hurt on the rest of the pelaton. Draft boy speeds past me. We cross the finish line and I’m too spent to think to glance back and see if anyone else is behind me. I suspect I’m the Lantern Rouge of the pack.

Mark Foster takes first. Congratulations to him for a great race.
My fifth place (out of five 45+ ‘ers) is good enough for a t-shirt.
Hey, I showed up !

All in all, a good time, on a nice course. And we finished before the temp’s hit 90.
Next time I’d pay more attention to maintaining forward turn around position especially on the final turn.
I’d also practice more hill sprints.
Congratulations to everyone competing this weekend, and especially John & Mark F for their top finishes and Andrew for placing in two races.
Heroic deeds indeed.

Timpani Crit- Chris Scheetz - 45+

Race - Timpani Crit
Course - 0.9 miles per lap, course is four corners and flat, on good, clean pavement.
Temperature - Mid 70's
Wind - light
Category - Masters 45/55 (staggered start)
Primes - None

Race started at a very reasonable 12:50pm. As noted, this was to be a combined race for both masters 45 and 55 racers with a staggered start. I was in the first wave of 51 riders for the 45's, there were 16 at the line for the 55's. The course was just short of 1 mile in length, so we had four good straights to move around, and the peloton really did.

We were only into the second lap and heading into turn one in a tight formation when a couple riders in front of me crossed wheels and hit the deck, hard, the sound is kinda sickening. There was the typical mayhem that follows a crash, riders taking evasive actions, I had to lock em' up and swing hard left to avoided a few riders. (Just before the race began, I clearly heard the race director say, "do not become complacent on an otherwise easy course"). Anyway, the race moved on for another couple laps and I made an early 5 man brake. As we rounded turn 4 heading for the start/finish I looked up and saw the race directors in the middle of the road, waving flags. They brought the entire peloton to a stop. Emergency vehicles had entered the course to assist one of the riders who crashed on lap two. (My wife and kids were on the corner when it happened and told me the word was they guy damaged his hip).

With emergency vehicles on course, were proceeded at a neutral pace for two laps. When the course was clear, the directors stopped us again, gave us some instructions and the race was on again. This time, the peloton had grown due to the inclusion of the Masters 55 group. With a larger group now and more teams, team tactics were clear. There was rarely time to recover in the group as one team after another launched attacks. The group would ultimately respond and chase them down, then another team would launch.

With two laps to go, the pressure was increased and the peloton really got strung out. I started working the inside line (not always the safest place to be on a corner) but knew I could improve my position after each corner. The strategy did work and as we came into turn three, I actually had a better than average line (meaning I did not have to go in the gutter), shot out and passed several riders. At that point, there was not much change in positioning as we made turn four. From there, it was a drag race to the line, some 250 meters. At that point I got tunnel vision and made it my race to beat the one guy in front of me, which I did my a slight margin.

All said, I finished 6th in my category, time on course was 50 minutes (included two neutral laps) averaging 24 mph.

Timpani Crit- Jon Hallam - Cat 5 35+

Race: Timpani Criterium, Santa Clara, CA (sunny, dry roads, around 70 degrees)

Date: Sunday, August 1, 2010

Category: Open Cat. 5 (44 riders started, 42 finished)

Duration: 35 minutes

Course: 0.9 miles per lap, four corners and flat, on good, clean pavement

Yesterday was my 2nd race ever, and my first criterium. It was quite a luxury to
do a race 30 minutes from home, and with a start time of 10:10am. I arrived
early to warm-up and to watch some of the Cat 4 race. The course was exactly as
advertised. Flat, good pavement, and we had two full lanes all the way
around. The only obstacles were a few small potholes (all marked with spray
paint) and about a thousand Botts' dots
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Botts'_dots).

Just before our start, we had a quick talk from the two USA Cycling mentors who
would be tagging along to keep an eye on us. I don't remember the exact wording,
but the key take-away was: you're not good enough to pedal through the corners
and if you do you will most-likely bounce a pedal, cause a crash and everyone
will be mad at you. I thought this advice unnecessary until we got underway and
I saw some of the other riders. There were definitely a few who hit the brakes
in the turns and took unpredictable lines. Luckily, I quickly identified them
and managed to steer clear. Afterward, I heard that two riders had bumped wheels
and gone down, but they were in the back and I didn't see the crash.

There were no primes in our race and the 35 minutes passed quickly without much
excitement. There were a few break attempts which caused accelerations in the
pack, but no one got away. You experienced racers will say, "duh", but as a
newbie I was reminded that if you're not actively moving up in the pack, then
you're drifting back. Other riders are always coming up the outside and if you
sit on the same wheel too long you'll find yourself at the tail end, which means
you'll have to sprint harder out of the corners. I played it conservative and
didn't move up any farther than about 5th place and didn't fall back past the
middle.

Before I knew it the card showed 3 laps to go. The pace picked up a little, but
still no fireworks. This is where more experience and a modicum of strategy
would have helped me. I should have started moving up sooner than the last lap
so I could have had a quick recovery before the final sprint. Around the final
turn it was full gas and I managed to mostly hold my position to finish 20th.
Next time, I'll make a run at the top 10. My bike computer showed 15 miles in 35
minutes for an average speed of 25.7 mph. I suspect that's relatively slow for
such a fast course, but I'll count it as another success.

Oh, and I should mention that my new Leopard is awesome! Stiff, super quick, and
very confident in the turns. If you're thinking about a new bike, I'd highly
recommend it, and with the sweet deal we get on them, you can't go wrong.

I hope to see (or meet) many of you at the BBQ on Sunday.

Thanks!
-Jon

Copper Town Circuit Race Report- John Pauley-35+ 4

Race: Copper Town Circuit race in Copperopolis, CA (Sunny and about 70 degrees)
Date: July 31, 2010
Category: Master 35+ Cat. 4 (20 riders started, 15 finished)
Teammates: Andrew Adelman
Course: Four laps around a 5.5 mile out and back with a nice little section through town (crit style) as one of the turnarounds. The course is rolling, with one roller on the front side of the course that you could almost call a hill. The finish is a 1 mile downhill (2% grade so less than Alpine) to a 100+ yard uphill finish. (Quick side note, the race is run “British style”, meaning we stayed on the left side of the road the entire time. I’ve never done that before and it was an interesting little twist.)
Placings…. You will have to wait until the end of the recap to find out

Andrew, Christian and Mark drove up to the race on Friday and stayed in Arnold. I told Andrew that if I did this race, it would be a last minute decision. Well, it definitely was that. (For those of you that don’t know, my wife tore her hamstring three weeks ago and she has good days and bad days and this affects my ability to train and race) Well, Friday was a good day, so on Friday night at 10 p.m. I got the go ahead to do this race!

I got up at 5:00 a.m. and decided to make the two hour drive to Copperopolis and try out this course. The course itself sounded interested to me since there are no hills and it was a circuit race (I gave up doing criteriums when I separated my shoulder 8 years ago).

The race starts off in the town square and then turns out onto the main road. For the first mile or so, the race started fairly slowly. Andrew and I both rode at the front trying to keep the pace down, but on the first little hill, a couple of guys rolled off the front and started a breakaway which brought the pace up a little, but it stayed generally slow for the first couple of laps. The breakaway lasted about 10 miles and at one point they got a 20 to 30 second lead on the peloton. It’s amazing when you watch the Tour de France (or any other big bike race) how the peloton gauges just how far away the break will be allowed to get before they reel them back in. We all sat in cruising along at 20 to 25 mile per hour while the break was out there and no one panicked. With a lap and a half to go, the pace suddenly picked up and we brought back that 30 second lead in less the 2 miles. It was fun to watch and I felt like I was truly “racing like the pros”.

Anyway, the race for the first 20 miles was fairly uneventful; no crashes, everyone took their turns at the front, a break or two got away and then came back to us, and we dropped a couple of guys, etc. With about 2.5 miles to (at the last turnaround) the pace started to pick up and each team was trying to send guys off the front, but most of the attempts were too far from the finish and the pack was all over every move. As we headed up the last hill, with about a mile and a half to go, Andrew and another guy took off and got about 20 or 30 yards on the group. Instantly a few of the guys in the peloton panicked and chased them down. I was sitting in about 10th place watching to see if they got caught and with 1.1 miles to go (and more importantly at the top of the last roller) we caught Andrew. Surprisingly the whole group slowed down and I shot up the right side of the rode and flew past Andrew (who didn’t know I was coming and almost rode me into the gravel on the side of the rode). I was yelling “right side”, “right side” and fortunately Andrew moved enough for me to slide by and I was alone off the front. I heard one guy yelling that a break (me) was going on the right and another guy said “It’s too far!”.

Well, here is what I had ahead of me: one mile of rolling down hill broken down as follows; down 2% for 3/10 of a mile, flat for 3/10 and the down 1% for 4/10 of a mile and then the finish uphill which was just over 100 yards. I knew these distances, because I was measuring the finish each lap (and I confirmed them with my GPS afterwards). Back to the race… As I past Andrew, and the head of the peloton, I put my head down, got as arrow as I could, and quickly hit 34 mph. I held 33 or 34 all the way to the flat part and with ¾ of a mile still to go I was starting to hurt a little, so I backed off to 30 / 31 mph and tried to hold that for as long as I could. (I still haven’t looked back and for all I knew, they were all right behind me and this was all for not.) I hold my speed and make to the final “downhill” and I now I am really having a tough time holding my speed, but the slight downhill helps. I finally look back and I am shocked to see that I have 150 yards on the peloton. At this point, I decide to try to hold 28 mph or higher until I reach the uphill finish section and then take another look.

Quick side note, during the Tour de France, you hear things like “he is turning himself inside out” or you see Jens Voight on the front of a break and he looks like he is suffering, but somehow he is able to continue. The only times I have ever been in that situation is when I am climbing a big hill during a race and I can’t keep up. Today was different though and all I can think about is “if they can do it, so can I”, so, I pushed on.

I get to the bottom of the finish hill and I take a look back and I still have 100 yard lead with 100 yards to go! I’ve got this thing! So, I decide to settle into an easier pedaling rhythm because my legs are getting really tight and as I shift gears I mis-shift somehow and I do a couple of pedal turns where nothing happens, the legs spin with no power to the back wheel. Fortunately, the chain fell back into gear and I stood up and “sprinted” (maybe 18 mph). I look back with 10 yards to go and there is the peloton flying up the hill at 25 to 30 mph. I was hoping to do a little fist pump or something as I crossed the line, but now all I can think about is getting there before they do. Just to be certain I pick up the pace the best I can and lunge for the line. I get the win, but only by about 2 bike lengths. I look back and Andrew and another guy are crossing the line for second and Andrew ended up third by the width of a tire! (It is amazing how quickly a hungry pack can make up 150 yards when the legs are burning!)

It was a great day for CoreTechs Cycling and it was my first win in 17 years! (A few other CoreTechs guys did well, but I will let them tell you about it.)

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you out there.

Death Ride Report - Laura Stern - 7/10/10

Ahhh, the Death Ride. 129 miles, 15,000' of climbing, some of the finest high-alpine scenery anywhere, and 3000 new-found friends to ride with. How many rides can compete with this? The 2010 "edition" of the DR marked its 30th anniversary.
I first did this ride 22 (maybe 23?) years ago and have ridden it 6 or 7 times throughout the years, and I always go into it with a bit of trepidation as far as finding out just how much I'm slowing down over the years. Lucky for me, the mileage and total climbing at the DR has been reduced over the years while the number of aid stations and water stops has increased, which definitely helps cushion the blow.

Conditions were pretty great this year. Lows the night before were low-to-mid 50's, so jackets weren't really needed at the start, and the highs during the day were high double-digit but not triple-digit heat. The mid-afternoon thunderstorms that had been in the area all week ended up being non-existent on DR day, and we enjoyed sunny skies and clear air. There were still loads of wild flowers all along the route as well as lingering snow up high, making it particularly scenic. Really a gorgeous day in the Sierra!

Greg Sterling, Gregg Shores, and myself were the only Coretechs riders, and we each opted for different start times. The "official" roll-out window for the full (5-pass) route was 5:30 to 6:30am. I went for 5:30 thinking that I'd be reasonably near the front of the ride from the get-go, and also to try to avoid being out on the course late in the afternoon in case of thunderstorms and/or excessive heat and wind. (There is also a small group of guys that start out together at 5:30 to race the event amongst themselves every year, so I thought I'd start near them just to watch the attacks on Monitor. I had also driven up with one of them, Paul McKenzie, so didn't want to be too far behind at the finish.) I looked around for Greg and Gregg at the start but ended up rolling out on my own, as Greg (Sterling) told me he'd probably start extra early, while Gregg (Shores) indicated we wanted to start later.

Little did I realize though that probably 500 to 1000 riders started well before 5:30, so by the time I got to the base of Monitor there was already a sea of riders as far as I could see up the climb! I couldn't believe it. I ended up riding most the way up the west side of Monitor (pass #1) in the left lane because the right lane was so clogged -- but this was just fine since both sides of Monitor and Ebbetts are closed to traffic during the DR, and it was far too early for any riders to be descending yet. (I certainly kept an eye out for descenders, though.) I was also tremendously enjoying the ride on my new Leopard! About half way up I came across 2 guys who were also on Leopards (and sporting Leopard kits, for that matter), and we gushed about our bikes to the (mild) annoyance of those around us.

Monitor Pass tops out just above 8300', and the view from there in early-morning lighting is just spectacular. The descent is equally spectacular and a must-do for all cyclists! I filled my water bottle at the side of the road up top Monitor (so avoided the "full" rest stop and long lines there) before descending the eastern side, then immediately flipped around at the bottom of the east side as soon as I got my 2nd pass sticker to head back up. That eastern side is a monster climb with over 3000' vertical, and you can see a looooong way up! About half way up is my favorite water stop of the day, where there's a bunch of (teenage?) kids lined up eagerly waiting to grab your bottle. Then they sprint to the water jugs at a speed rivaled only by Usain Bolt, fill your bottle, then sprint up the road to hand it back to you while yelling all sorts of encouragement at the top of their lungs. They do this for several thousand riders and for many hours on end! I'm told that these kids are at-risk kids in programs to help keep them from ending up in jail, and I gotta say, they do an incredible job at this water stop.

Near the top of the east side of Monitor I finally spotted the familiar riding style of Greg Sterling up ahead so picked up my pace to catch up before the summit. It was good to finally find another Coretechs rider, and I could tell even from behind that he was feeling pretty good that day too. This time I stopped at the aid station up top Monitor for several minutes (or more) for a quick breather and to re-fill bottles and stuff some food into my pockets (and mouth). Greg and I left that aid station together, but I lost track of him by the time I got to the bottom of Monitor so continued on my own.

Next come both sides of Ebbetts, i.e. passes 3 and 4, and topping out at 8730' (the highest elevation of the DR). I felt good up the front side (one of the prettiest passes in the Sierra!), grabbed water at the top, rolled over the backside to Hermit Valley, then flipped around at the bottom immediately after getting my 4th pass sticker and avoiding the congestion of the rest stop. Along the way back up I somehow spotted Greg coming down at warp speed, amidst all the other riders descending too. Funny how familiar riding styles jump out at you! I knew I was slowing down considerably near the top though, so tried to minimize my down-time at the summit by just grabbing water and more pocket food, then rolled on. (I also had a very strong mix of R4 in my 2nd water bottle that I was relying on for much of my nutrition that day. I took along some Endurolytes caplets too.)

Descending that front side of Ebbetts was insane. I thought Monitor looked packed with people earlier in the day, but it was nothing compared to the wave of riders coming up Ebbetts. Or maybe it's the narrower/steeper road that makes it look different? I found it a bit unnerving in some places as it's a somewhat technical descent and there was often little room to maneuver around all the riders coming up the hill -- especially those couple of riders who were taking the paper-boy route!

At the base of Ebbetts I finally spotted Gregg Shores (or he spotted me, rather), who I hadn't made visual with yet that day and who was just starting up the front side of Ebbetts. The mercury was quickly rising by that point in the day, and I remember feeling very relieved with having started at 5:30am rather than significantly later. (Sorry Gregg!) The lunch stop is a few miles past the base of Ebbetts, but I opted for water, fruit, and a few fig newtons at the side of the road rather than going through the actual lunch line and/or sitting down. I also know from all previous DR's that things can suddenly get very unpleasant as soon as you leave lunch, and that eating a lot there can be a bad idea!

In my opinion, the 5th pass, Carson, is harder than all previous 4 combined, and leaving the lunch station is where the DR earns it's name (i.e. the final 40+ miles of the ride). I found a few riders to link up with for a bit of the way back to Turtle Rock Park (the start/finish, and always tough to ride past on your way out to Carson), but ended up riding solo for pretty much the entire remainder of the ride. It was very warm and the wind started to pick up quite dramatically, and by Woodfords I was already quite anxious for more water. Lucky for me there were only a few other riders at the Woodfords aid station, and I thoroughly enjoyed all the personal attention they were giving each rider. One worker grabbed my bike while another filled my bottles, then a third guy (a big strong guy!) gave me a GREAT running push to get me started from a stand-still up the incline of the road. Loved it! I was outta there very quickly. Best of all, they started blasting Stones tunes over the speakers, so I happily rolled out with Mick in me head.

But the Hope Valley wind-tunnel slowed me down in a hurry. This might be the toughest climb of the day since it's one that you don't (or at least I don't) really mentally prepare for. Worse, it's called a "Valley". Plus, the road is no longer closed to cars so there's lots of traffic. As I lurched my way up Hope Valley (Hopeless Valley, I dubbed it) I also started experiencing extreme "hot foot" and related foot cramps, which brought me to a near standstill. The legs felt OK, but the feet were absolutely on fire (maybe metatarsal pads would help?), and the wind was just oh-so debilitating. So stopped yet again at the next aid station at Pickets to get more water and pour some on the feet. I felt like I was dousing coals. Then continued lurching my way up Carson.

Think Lance at Morzine, compounded by several orders of magnitude, and that's how bad I looked on Carson. I reminded myself ad-nauseum that it's the Death Ride and it's SUPPOSED to be hard, and that I was SUPPOSED to feel lousy, but that wasn't too much consolation. I also tried to lose myself to the stunning views as the road climbed above Red Lake, as it was definitely one of the prettiest days I've ever seen on Carson. But oh, can't someone please turn the wind off? The top of Carson (8580') finally arrived though, and I got my 5-pass pin (the DR is all about the pin!), some water and watermelon, and then willed myself to turn around and get rolling before sitting down and sprouting roots at the aid station. The descent really isn't much fun due to the often-lousy road surface with jillions of cracks and holes that absolutely pummel you, and boy-oh-boy did I appreciate the Bar Phat gel and tape that Menlo Velo put on my handlebars the previous week! Lots of cars on the return, too. Then within the final mile or two of the finish line you get slammed with 2 short hills that seem like absolute walls at that point of the day.

But finally there was Turtle Rock Park! Yeah! It was just after 2:30pm so I missed my sub-9-hour goal by a few minutes (too much solo riding throughout the day?). Oh well! It was still one great and memorable day, and well worth the trip up there! Best of all, it kept me on some sort of training schedule throughout the spring. There were also showers and a very nice Mexican buffet-style dinner at the finish to complete the day.

What a day! We rode the Donner Pass/ Cisco Grove out-and-back (from Tahoe Donner) the next day to shake out the legs a bit, and then came home.

Hopefully Greg and Gregg will chime in with their own recaps.

One final note: There were many local team racers at the DR this year, including probably a dozen from Webcor/AV as well as others from Pen Velo, SJBC, SixFifty, Morgan Stanley, and other teams. I was envious that they had such good representation by their members and would really like to see a strong contingent of Coretechs riders there next year! What do ya say? The Death Ride is not your ordinary ride, and it's a great event to put on your calendar and to train for throughout the early-to-mid cycling season. Plus, it's a great area to plan some vacation days around with family or friends.

San Rafael Crit Race Report: by Andrew A.

Chris talked me into doing this race, so not wanting to leave a teammate alone in the pack, I signed up the day before the race and jumped in. Rather than repeat his description, I will just tell a bit from my vantage point.

I saw a grown man fly. I guess I should start from the beginning. Chris and I were lined up near the back of the group to start the race. If you have read my last few reports, I don’t like being near the back during crits. It just plain scares me. So when the bell rang to start the race I did my best to get up front. Took about a lap but I made my way to the front five and sat there for a few laps. Could be the race, the racers or me, but was just not feeling particularly fresh this race. Whatever, I was racing.

About 10 or 15 laps into the race they ring the bell for a preem. Two guys shoot by and I jump on them. I look back and there are three of us with a good gap on the field. The three of us start to sprint with about 100 meters to go. I realize if I want a shot I am going to have to leave it all out there and possibly blow myself up. So instead I sit up and let the other two go for the preem and I get back in the pack.

The addition I have to make to Chris's description of the race is that final turn on the course. Not sure he did it justice. It is as scary a turn as I have ever done in a race. We take that 90 degree, downhill turn at 30+ mph. There is not a whole lot of room for error. I admit, I was a bit intimidated by it. Let's face it, I am 43 and not getting paid for this stuff, so my degree of "going for it" tapered off when I hit my mid 30's.

Final lap comes and guys are fighting for the top 5 to 10 spots. We all know that whoever is in the top five or so coming off the final turn has a real advantage. On the back of the race (before turn three and four) guys are picking up a lot of speed and starting to elbow each other and overlap wheels. My mind starts to take over and I start to rationalize with myself. The internal conversation was not a friendly one. Like the movies with the devil and the angel on each shoulder I had a debate going in my mind of what the heck I was doing here.

I would say coming off of turn four (the scary turn) into the final straight away, I was in 8th spot. That is when things went a bit funny. The wheel I was following suddenly was not there. I glanced up and caught a full grown man flying through the air. Not sure what happened but I watched him sail into the metal gate that was up to keep spectators off the course. I tapped my brakes in order to miss hitting his bike, which was following the rider into the gate. At this point I lost a few spots and did not care! It was one of those bad thoughts we all have when we witness an accident, "thank goodness that was not me".

Finally I got out of the saddle and sprinted home. Ended up finishing 14th overall and 2nd Cat 4 (the results page lists how the Cat 4's faired in the group). This would be a race I will go to again…as a spectator. It must have been darn exciting to watch. I am not going to race it again though, unless somehow I start getting younger.

San Rafael Crit Race Report: by Chris Scheetz

• Race Day Conditions - Clear, light winds, mid - 70's
• Race - Category 35+ 3 - 4 (there were 47 racers at the line)
• Venue - Downtown San Rafael, slightly more than a 1/2 mile loop through the downtown business district. Four right turns, starting on 4th street (0.21 miles), right turn on D Street (0.07 miles), right turn on 5th Street (0.21 miles) right turn on A Street (0.07 miles)
• Race Start Time - 2:30PM
• Race Time - 40 minutes

The start/finish was mid 4th Street to a right on D Street (a hill at approximately 5-6% grade), to a right on 5th Street (a fast, slight down hill) to a fast right on A Street (on new asphalt) to the last right back on 4th. The last right had the metal crowd control barriers placed on the right hand curb and running the left hand side of 4th Street so you figured out after couple laps not to get pinched on the inside of the turn and not to over bake the turn on the outside.

As one would expect on a short course like this, at the gun, it was zero to maximum heart rate before you made the second right turn on 5th Street. It was clear to me, there was very little room to advance forward in the pack due to the constant accordion effect. The pack would compress going into the corners leading to D and A Streets and stretch out on 4th and 5th Street. It really became a race of holding your position and hoped you did not blowup. For me, I found myself mid pack, and that is where I stayed. There was some jockeying between the riders around me, but nobody advanced.

I did find the race taxing at first, but as the laps rolled on there was a predicable rhythm that made this criterium more relaxing than a few I raced earlier this year and I am sure a some of the comfort came from the fact I was riding with more experienced riders.

With two laps to go, there was the predictable surge and a great sense of relief that the race was almost over without a mishap. When I crossed the finish line, the field had looped the streets 30 times and my bike computer noted 24.8 mph average over 16.5 miles. I finished 12th in the CAT 4's.

6/27/10 Burlingame Crit Race Report-written by Andrew

6/27/10
Burlingame Crit- 40 minutes
Race: 35+ Cat 4
65 Riders
Course: Flat, through downtown Burlingame. Multiple turns with wide roads and mostly good pavement
CoreTechs Team: Just me…Andrew (Christian raced the Open Cat 4 race, so would love to read a race report Christian!)

I was a bit nervous about this race for a day or two before. The last three races I was in all involved a crash (not by me, but within the race). I like Crits, but they can be a bit scary (or possibly I am getting a bit soft. Probably this is the case). Anyway, I wanted to stay upright this race and assuming that, then see what happened.

Race starts promptly at 9:30am. We have the largest field in the Burlingame Crit series with 65 guys. I would say there were four or five Wells Fargo riders and four or five Talleo riders. Other than that, I did not see a lot from any one team. I recognize a few guys from the Noon ride and say hello to a few. Seems everyone is fairly relaxed.

Race starts reasonably fast. Since I have already mentioned above the onset of being a bit soft, I did not want to ride in the pack, so I opted to ride within the top four or five as long as I could. Come the fourth lap, they ring the bell for a Preem. Did not catch what they were offering, but since I was up front, figured I would give it a go. I was on a Los Gatos riders wheel (Alan from the noon ride) and we took off. I get to about mid bike of Alan but can not catch him so finish second on the preem (which means you get absolutely nothing. Well, you get out of breath, so that is something). Anyway, he and I fist bump and let the pack catch us.

Sometime mid race, two guys get off the front. I am third wheel in the pack and another rider shoots out to catch the two. I jump on his wheel and he and I work together and catch the front two. The four of us now have a gap of about 10 seconds. I start acting all stupid and telling the guys what to do. I am urging them to work together and take a hard pull at the front each so we can stay away. We do this for a lap. On my pull I go hard for 15 or 20 seconds. I turn to look and it is only two of us. The other two opted to slink back to the pack…wimps. With that, myself and the other guy sit up and get back in the group.

With two laps to go I have been riding in the front five all race. Suddenly I find myself leading the pack through the start finish line with two laps to go. Not where I want to be. So I ease up. Unfortunately, I guess I ease up too much. I get swamped. About 15 riders go by me on each side. Great, one lap to go and now I am in 15th to 20th position. Crap! I almost give in and say f… it. After a few beats though I figure I might as well go down in a steaming heap of lactic acid, so I get to the side of the pack and sprint for the front into the wind, by myself. I get back to the front five with about half a lap to go. As we enter the straight away, two riders sprint hard. Darn, they have a decent gap. I jump and come close to catching the second place guy when I notice another rider catching me on my right. He and I cross the line together neck and neck. After the announcer says it is a "photo finish for third", they give it to him…I get fourth. Ah well, such is racing.

With fourth place I won a fantastic prize package. Well, not so much. I won a pair of bike gloves, pair of socks and a box of Girl Scout Cookies (not kidding, really). I also earned another 7 points and can now upgrade to a Cat 3 if I want (you need 20 points in one calendar year to upgrade. If you get 30 points, you have to upgrade. So far this year I have 24 points.) For all of you just starting out, it is very possible to upgrade fairly quickly. In January I was a Cat 5, so not that hard to do if you are into it. Oh, and most importantly, I stayed up right and had no close calls this race! There was however a crash in the race I learned later. I did not hear it, but a few guys went down in one of the turns…got to stay away from those big group turns!

Looking forward to riding again soon. If you have not picked up your hats, feel free to drop by or ask Gordon if he has any left (I left a bunch with him).

Andrew

New Sponsor: Team Bike Shop: Menlo Velo

Menlo Velo (www.menlovelobicycles.com) has stepped up and offered the team a sponsorship. They are offering great discounts on service, accessories and bikes. If you were on the fence about racing with us, this should put it over the top. Must be a team member to get benefit.

2010 Pescadero Road Race by Chris Scheetz

Pescadero Road Race – 06/19/2010
Race Day Conditions – Overcast with temperatures in the low to mid 60’s, negligible wind, road was dry.
Course – 47 miles and approximately 3,620 feet of cumulative elevation gain.
Bike Ridden – 2004 Airborne Zeppelin, Titanium frame, running a compact crank set, 50-34 with a 12-23 rear cassette.
Raced in the CAT 4/5 45+ Category
The field was full; we started at 9:45am. It was a controlled start with a promenade of the peloton from Pescadero High School through downtown Pescadero, the whistle blown for the start of the race on the outskirts of town. We headed north on Stage Road and we were faced with basically seven miles and 800 + feet of climbing over two 400 foot hills. One thing I am not, is a proficient fast climber, and I faced difficulty during the first climb on Stage Road. As we ascended the first climb, the peloton quickly strung out on the narrow two lane road. I made my way over the first hill at the back of the field. I made good time on the decent and passed a hand full of less confident riders. As we hit the second climb, there was less traffic, but the majority of the peloton was well on their way over the second climb. I was not overly concerned at my position at this point as my primary objective was just to finish the race. There were seven of us at this point.
As we turned right on Highway 84, we could see the peloton at large only some 100 meters ahead of us. As we quickly figured out, now was the time to work collectively and endeavour to close the gap. Unfortunately for us, after a couple of miles, it was apparent the peloton was pacing faster than us. It was then that I looked at the riders around me and figured this was to be my race within the race.
As we raced east on 84, all seven were taking our turns at the front. To my surprise, half way on 84, we were passed by a group of seven plus that had started with us, but fared worse on Stage Road. Now we were fourteen plus but the peloton was out of sight.
We worked as a group until the right turn on Pesacadero Road and the approximately three mile accent of Pescadero Road/Haskins Grade. As mentioned earlier, I am not a not a proficient fast climber. With the group I was in, some riders moved forward, some moved backwards. I ended up somewhere in the middle. I read an article one time about racing in the hills and the author said it was all about the individual tempo and that is was I concentrated on. Three miles is was a long grade for me, validated by the movement of riders going past me and riders I pass. It was a relief when I reached the sign that said “2K” to the top. I felt good I was close to the crest, but then again, I never fully grasped the metric system. That was a long 2K. Then came 1K, then the 500K, 200K, 100K (what is this........ a sprint, we are going uphill at some reasonably difficult grade). I finally crested at what was ultimately to be finish line, problem was, I had another approximate 20 miles of racing.
The good thing about reaching the top of Haskins Grade was I had an approximate 10 miles of downhill, a good part being a fast technical decent. Numerous riders were passed on this decent.
On the decent, the group I was riding in was basically that same group as I stared the climb with plus a handful of riders caught on the decent. We rode collectively back to the town of Pescadero. (We even passed the group of CAT 45+ 1-2-3 that stared before us, how could that be???)
We passed back through the town of Pescadero on Stage Road. No more than a mile into Stage Road, we were passed by the CAT 45+ 1-2-3, drat!!. We road sensibly over Stage Road as a group took our right on 84. On 84, we caught and passed several other tired riders. We all knew when we reached the right on Pescadero Road, the race was on...
On queue, as we turned on Pescadeo Road, acceleration was increased and it became a function of how long can you sustain the pain! For me, it was all about tempo. Riders mover ahead of me and riders fell back. The defining moment in the race for me came at the “2K” to the top sign was reached. I knew metrics now! I increased my tempo and actually had in my sights, a hand full of riders in front of me that were within reach. Steady as she goes, 1K to go, passed a rider, 500K one more rider, 200K no one, 100K to go, yikes, two more riders ahead of me, if I do anything now, I need to beat these two guys to the top. There are advantages to accelerating from behind your opponent, take them by surprise, that is exactly what I did beating them to the finish line only to be greeted by another 10 miles to get back to my car.
While I did not have a podium or top ten finish, I completed an epic race in an epic venue that is open to anyone who has the desire test their racing abilities.
Overall time and speed per my computer was 2:29:56 averaging 18.8 mph.