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.