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
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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!
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!
Monday, October 4, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, August 23, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, August 9, 2010
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.
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.
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