BBC Racer

Cat 4/5

Winters Road Race – E4

Before the road race last Saturday I was thinking a lot about the training rides that the BBC crew did a couple years ago while Wattini was living in Vacaville. The Dr. Wattini sponsored rides shared almost three-quarters of the Winters RR course this weekend and although I had never done the Winters Road Race I had a pretty good sense of what the course would be like.

I lined up as the solo BBC rider in the Elite Cat 4 field and noticed that there were a bunch of Davis riders (since the course was in their backyard) and I knew they would try to control the race. I made sure I stayed close to the front where it was heavy orange and blue.

On the drive up, Keith mentioned that one his goals was to make sure that when he got to each feed he was towards the front of the pack-so there was less chance of getting gaped. I was good at this for lap #1 with water, missed water for lap 2 to stay with the group, and was mid-way back for lap #3 and was able to get water. I think the temperature reached 104oF on Saturday so water was really important. I carried three bottle at the start and took three more at the feed zone.

The ‘race’ was was the hill and the twisty decent after wards. After each climb/decent the main pack got smaller.

For the final lap#3, a Davis rider attacked at the feed zone and was able to get a gap of about 10 seconds on the field. I saw the attack as I was getting my bottles from VeloPromo staff but then stalled when I had to avoid a Bicycle Planet rider who bumped another rider. Luckily no one went down. I settled into a steady pace for the climb and decided that we would all eventually collect on the other side of the hill. This didn’t happen.

Instead, I climbed the hill with a Rio Strada rider. By the time got to the flat, straight road the solo Davis rider had built a lead of about 30 seconds. The Rio Strada rider and I were soon joined by a Davis rider who sat on (as expected). Rio Strada and I exchanged 15 second pulls for about 5 miles trying to bring back Han Solo until another Orange coat joined our group of three. Dang.

With the two Davis free loaders n tow, Rio Strada and I pulled for another 5-7 miles trying to capture Han but he eventually won by about 40 seconds. At about 750 meters, free loading Davis rider #1 jumped. I tried to catch his wheel but didn’t have it. The Rio Strada rider sat on my wheel and passed me at the line. I took 4th.

Patterson Pass – M35+ 4/5

Much bigger field (61) for this group than I ever remember from when I used to race in the late 90’s/early millennium (last time I raced was about 4 years ago, after taking a 3 year hiatus before that).  I wanted to try my fitness b/c I’ve done okay on the double century circuit this year, including my last one last weekend (the Mount Tam Double).  Of course, those aren’t “races” although many us are “racing” them.  So I wondered where I would stand in a “real” race.  (and many thanks to those of you who gave me advice on whether to register for the masters 4/5 v. the open 45’s and over).

Dylan and I drove out from Berkeley this morning early enough for me to get in a long warm-up, which I really needed b/c I’m used to long events, not short races.  So I got in over an hour and felt warmed up, especially given the pleasant temperature at start time (of course, I knew that only meant it would be hot before it was over).

Getting to the line late, I was stuck back around 40^th as we approached the first climb and even as we started it.  I was itchy to get near the front and went about 6 inches over the center to try to move up . . . only to be relegated by the motorcycle escort.  Finally I had a chance to move up and went for it, not attacking at all but just wanting to settle in at my own pace.  No one else was pushing it so I ended up leading the group over the first two climbs and almost through the entire first lap.  My strategy in going to the front on the climb was simply to control the pace and try to discourage folks from going crazy.  Luckily, nobody tried to increase the pace and it worked out.

As we began the second lap, the “youngsters” (I’m 53, so it’s all relative) decided to sharply increase the pace and I couldn’t go.  I just continued at my own pace, watching about 12-15 guys pass me.  But at least I felt like I was recovering and slowly I caught a few on the climb, then 3 more on the descent before the second climb.  After a while, we had a group of 6 within our sights and our goal was to reel them in before the end of the second climb.  I had to attack near the crest to try to bridge, which separated me from the other guys I was with.  Couldn’t quite catch the next group but at least I was close.

Then the leaders of the pro/1/2 came whizzing by, which was okay until they immediately backed off, basically blocking me as we crossed the freeway.  I yelled for space which they gave me on the right hand edge of the road (my choice).  After going back and forth with their group ahead of me, then behind, I finally bridged to the group of 6, with the 6 leaders ahead.

Our group talked about doing short rotations but it was only me and one other guy (a Clif dude) who actually did any rotating, with him doing most of the work at this stage.  As we made the turn back under the freeway, we caught and dropped one of the 6 leaders, so we now knew we would be sprinting for a placing.  I thought I was in good position rounding the last turn, heading towards the finish (in second slot) but then some of the guys who had been sitting in the last 10 miles sprinted around me.  I ended up 4^th out of our group, 9^th overall.  Wished it was better (woulda been nice to earn a t-shirt ) but I felt good about being out there for a change, being in the mix, and maybe I’m not so old and washed up after all.  Now if I can only figure out a chance to race again this season but it doesn’t look good . . .

It was great to see lots of our gang out there, and generally fun to race with a bunch of nice guys of all colors.

Michael

Golden State Crit – 5/30/09 & Spring Hill Road Race – 5/31/09 – E4

I often wonder what happened, how life turned to be the way it is.  If I look at my background and the formative years of life, I find stories of molotov cocktails exploding and incinerating the streets of Ambato, days of negotiating with corrupt cops the purchase of tear gas bombs, and I was just a teen then.  Perhaps it is cycling the reason why I turned into a militant of the Ecuadorian Revolutionary Youth.  The rigor, structure and sacrifice that are associated with this sport have no other comparison.  And in my opinion, cycling is not a sport for a teenager.    At bicyle races I see these little kids racing… and I hope the Holy Father reaches out and smacks the idiocy out of their zit filled faces.  The freedom and free spirited conversation that college brought are far gone.

And here I sit, typing something totally useless for a group of middle aged men whose main sport goal is to move from Cat 4 to Cat 3.  We work all day to put on spandex and ride a bicycle, pathetic!  Dealing with insurance policies, and hoping for good weather for a chance to ride the bike.

Saturday was an easy day, relatively to what I have been doing.  I lined up for the Rancho Cordova Crit, with very little expectations.  There was nothing really to report about, it is a damn crit.  You go around the block, people try to break away, there is a crash or two, and you sprint to the line.  I did or witnessed all of that and sprinted for 9^th spot.

The road race on Sunday was a treat.  The legs do not have the same peppiness than 2 weeks ago.  I can definitely tell the good legs are gone and now is time to take some rest and rebuild the form.  So I am riding in the pack, monitoring the race rather than really participating on it. A fella in a white and red kit comes by.  The kid looks all suited up, nice bike, the same sunglasses than VDV uses, carbon rims, new Campy grouppo.

Of course, there was some additional baby fat around his ass.  While he is going by my side and passing me I notice something rather exponentially disturbing; the dark hair of his armpits is sticking out about one inch at the end of the sleeves of his cycling shirt.  The next problem is that my head sometimes acts like a camera and when I think about the race the picture that shows up is not my 5^th place finish, but this dude’s armpit hair.  So disturbing, so inappropriate.

Prior to the race, I went by the 7/11 to stock up on brewskies which came handy after the race.  Of course we all shared the stories we had.  The funny thing is that we always have an opinion, our experience is better than yours; everyone is very knowledgeable about cycling to the point we could be directors of Pro Tour teams.

This week has been really tough packed with business meetings that extended and became social events.  I found myself riding my bicycle back home late in the early hours of the morning, trying to hold a straight line.

Last night I watched some youtube videos of some friends from the homeland and started to wonder.  When did I change?  I was in the route to be a rebel; I had the training, the ideology and the will.  I was supposed to be hanging out with these friends, all of the musicians, actors, rain forest protectionists, and people interested in the relationships between human beings.

My revolutionary hopes are gone, and finally realized that Che Guevara is a lazy lucky bum hobo portrayed in the T-shirt of spoiled better than middle class East Bay hipster.  My wildest dreams now are racing bicycles as fast as I can, what a loser!

Panoche Road Race, E4 – 5/17/09

So The Bosswoman was away the entire week. The life of a bachelor; countless night of ice cream eating in front of the TV with only my underwear on, or the pizza delivery guy knocking on the door. There is no need for a plate as you can eat it directly from the box. The other beauty of this is to be able to ride the bike and get back home at 9 PM knowing that you can just sit on your ass and enjoy. In terms of cycling, it was a really productive week; however I procrastinated a lot on other aspects.

Then The Bosswoman was returning on Friday. The thought of knowing that I will race Modesto and Panoche made me a bit uncomfortable because I was not going to see The Bosswoman for an entire week. I guess that is part of cycling as well, the balancing act that we put ourselves through even though our families “understand” what we do.

I began my quest of making this a family weekend, surfing the net for hours while eating pizza; the greasy finger leaving their unconditionally traceable mark in the keyboard and mouse pad. After some heavy surfing, I hit the jackpot. Apparently San Benito County has some sort of wine production and this past weekend they had the “Passport” weekend. In summary you paid $30 and got to visit 6 wineries and taste their wine. It sounded like the perfect pre-race meal that I have been craving.

Modesto Crit

My idea for the day was make a move on that crit. Spent the race at the front and covered the moves. With 4 laps to go, I put my move on. You got that damn straight; Il Fantasma put a move on a crit. I was off the front for 1.5 laps and my body felt the effort. I was hoping to hold about 375W for 2-3 minutes and then maybe hold 330. I thought that keep the gap wide enough for a couple of people to bridge and get going. It did not happen and I run out of juice.

I got absorbed by the field and after that, I decided to sit for the sprint. I think it paid off because going into the last turn, our friend Tim, went down, hit his head hard and had a small concussion, with some memory loss. One hour after the crash, he still did not know what happened to him then he was transported to the hospital.

After unpacking and getting ready we got our passport and started our wine tasting afternoon. Got to tell you, it was a nice event, there was none of that nonsense that goes on around Napa, there were zero crowds on the roads. The valley road to get to the wineries was surreal, tree covered with a nice creek on the side. The event opened the doors to the backroom of the wineries, their production areas, and the winemakers and their families.

Panoche Road Race E4

You see, racing bicycles is a funny thing; it is a combination of smartness, hardcore physical activity and some other elements like weather, or road. At 8:am the temperature was probably in the high 80’s. It was definitely going to be a hot one. Water was going to be the key to the race. I spent the first 1/3 of the race sitting on the pack and enjoying the race, drinking and living on GU, Blocks, and cocaine (truckin’?). The speed was very tolerable; going over the hills was nothing outrageous.

Here is the funny thing about this race. Usually I am the one giving people sh-t, the one with the big mouth. Yesterday I got hassled; I was the receiver of the bullying. There is a fellow from Godspeed that looks like an anorexic lizard; his witty double ended tongue was spitting all kinds of nastiness to me because I decided not to take a pull. Guess what, lizard, there is always a fool willing to take pulls, but I am not the one. I am the lazy bastard sitting on wheels and waiting for somebody else to take me to the line. At some point people started to drop like flies; the elements were taking a toll in people and exemplifying that Mother Nature also races bicycles. I saw some strong guys just pulling out of the race because they felt tingly.

I do have to admit, I missed 2 key moves, the winning move and the one for second place. I had energy at the end of the race, I did not suffer of any cramps and I had good sensations (like Sastre would say) on the legs. With 10KMs to go, I put my first move, I went in the attack, gave it about 90% but the move did not stick. You are probably thinking, “is this dumbass really attacking now?” Here is the answer, you got that straight brother, Il fantasma was attacking the sh-t out of the field.

At this point we had about 13 people in our group and my thought was to try to attack to drop all the people I saw suffering of cramps. Yes, I was paying attention to who was suffering during the race. Check this out, then I put on another attack and this one strung the pack, but nobody got dropped. Going into the finale, I was the 4^th wheel in a double line. Jason was boxed in between the outer pace line and the end of the tarmac, but he was next to me. He asked me to let him go in front of me, which I did and inexplicably and unplanned for, Jason gave me a lead out. He also dragged another couple people. I missed the podium by probably 3 inches and finished 4^th.

Overall a great weekend, I was able to translate my aggression into attacks, bit the sh-t out of the Lizard looking dude, which gave me the most pleasure of the weekend.

Wente Road Race and Criterium, E4 – 4/26/09

After the crit on Sunday, and in my way to Sacramento, via 580 to 5, I wish I could say accidentally, but I rather use stupidly, I took the wrong turn and found myself going southbound to LA. Just the thought of heading to LA makes me sick. My 1.5 hours drive all of a sudden became a 2.5 hours drive.

Mole was sitting on the passenger seat looking at me with eyes of disbelieve. I bet that she was thinking, “you are killing me, dumbass. You took me to a crit, locked me in the car, and now we made the wrong turn.” I could see the disappointment on her face for wasting her time in the car and going to a crit, to a damn crit! Poor little Mole, sitting next to me with her beautiful pinkish tongue sticking out; begging for some attention and water.

Finally I was in the right road home (and to win Mole’s redemption) and sometimes you have some moments when you think you are really the sh-t, right? You know what I am talking about, don’t think you are special. Well I had one of those. I was driving and a bug hit the windshield. Poor little bastard, to end like that, on the windshield of an economy sedan priced for lower to sub tier middle class people. Do insects have blood? I thought. I felt like Plato Mosquera for a second and then I came to the realization that probably this is a question asked by many school children to their science teachers and a fact that most BBCers would know. Plato my ass! Then I felt the embarrassment that I would endure for writing about this in my race report, and how ignorant, poor, and under par social class bastard I would look. Yeah, mothaf-cka, you are a poor ignorant Latin, Mole probably thought!

We got home, unpacked and I took the boss lady for a night of comedy and fine dinning; we listened to Howard Stern while we were driving to the burrito joint. What a classy guy I am.

The Wente road race was very uneventful, practically a walk in the park. Comparing this race to Copper would be an insult, or as disgraceful as making a joke about my dead mother. I went to Wente with a plan which I executed it to perfection but my plan put me out of contention for the sprint. I guess that is what I get for asking about the BBC email list to comment about the finish.

My thought was to make it to the last turn probably at around 10^th position or so and drive it hard to the finish rather than really sprint. I let the gap open and the winners made their move. I thought they would fade away, but saw their wheels getting further and further away and I needed to sit and conform with a 18^th or so finish (I don’t really know and I don’t really care.) I misjudged the opponents’ strength. Except the finish, I was close but not too close to the front, ate GU like a madman, drank the sugary drink in good proportions. I knew who were the contenders and the pretenders. Great game plan, poor execution at the end.

While talking to a good friend of mine, he pointed something out to me. “Bike stories are like fishing stories, guys exaggerate about the size of the fish that got away.” It is not a novel concept and it is similar to the coulda, shoulda, woulda talk. There is talk about the 18-20 hours training week that it seems to be the norm for the cat 4’s. How hard we make it for ourselves to get from and to work on a bike, and that sitting on the saddle for hours and hours at the time will make you better. All of a sudden my 13-15 hours look pale compared to the additional 3-5 that others are putting per week.

I was talking to a friend of Dr. Wattini and the light went off. It is not about the record breaking fish that got away or how you train every week to get dropped at the race. It is all about the 3 little pieces of crap fishes that you have in your plate (or Plato in spanish). It is about how you prepare them, how much salt you use and the correct mix of flavors. It is all about knowing that you have 3 little goldfish to deal with, nothing less and nothing more, but you can make ‘em tasty. Depending on what you are trying to make, you have staples like creamy butter. Ahh creamy butter, you can cook Mole’s excrement on it and will be amazing. Do you catch my drift? If not, go fishing.

Copperopolis, E4 – 4/11/09

Disclaimer: Dr. Wattini is an equal opportunity hater. He holds all people and bicycle clubs (including the BBC) in contempt.

It takes only one damn second…

Really this will have more about cycling than I would usually like to write about it. There isn’t much comedy, entertainment, name-calling, because Copper humbled me.

In the drive down there, I was searching Sirius radio for the right song to get things going. I just have a bunch of Phish, which I love, but they don’t have the sort of song that makes you just want to get out there and take somebody’s life or a tune like “Gloria” by The Doors that makes you feel like a badass teenager again.

As I was parking my car, I noticed that a guy had a decal on his car that said “I heart Ecuador” Of course, it was a bay area dude in one of those yellow kits with a rat on the back. What was he trying to say, why would you love a place like that, which has been forgotten by god’s memory, where children go hungry on the street when they don’t have enough cash to buy glue to drug up and ease the pain?

I got there and to start the intimidation, I sat in my green folding chair by the door of my car and cranked up some Howard. Nothing outrageous, no strippers or lesbian talk, just some funny news about Miley Cyrus making some figurines out of poop shaped like famous people. Hopefully there was none of them around for their feelings to be hurt; I am talking about the poop.

So we are going over the main hill for a second time, the tempo at the bottom was manageable and tolerable. I felt a bit better as earlier in the race my legs felt heavy. Then the pitch got a bit steeper and I could not handle the high tempo set up at the front by the skinny dudes. I was drifting back and going from Dr. Wattini mode to Il Fantasma. Sh-t, I hate Il Fantasma, he is a loser.

And then there is that second, when you realize you are a loser, when you cannot tolerate the pain and you give up. It takes only one damn second to go from “I can do this” to “this is too much.” I went into total Il Fantasma mode and became a loser. I could not reach back and take it any more. I was a goner. The pack continued to keep the tempo high in the flat crosswind and I lost ground, alone in the wind. Then a group of 3 or 4 came by to pick me up and I was brought back in the fold. I just got a tow when I knew I gave up, a loser’s move in the entire meaning of the word.

Why does it matter in what position I finished? Whatever that position was, the real test presented itself when the infamous second came to be. It is so easy to give up and say I am done with this sh-t. Then you find an excuse like “it is a climber race and I am not a climber.” Here is the excuse that matters, you gave up and did not man up to tolerate the pain.

The other troublesome thought was during the race when I was feeling sort of ok. Why do we race bicycles. It is such a dumb thing to do. So, you want to be a cat 3 or 2? Big deal. Why? What are you trying to show? That you are a dedicated human being? Why don’t you spend the weekend with your wife or even your dog. Go to church and pray for Ecuador. Enjoy a good ice-cream and a stroll in the park and don’t freak out about the calories, or how fat you will get.

If you care to know my finish, I was 6^th. I would also love to write about the contenders and pretenders but that will make this report too long. I may have to write a Copper part dos.

Dr. Wattini / Il Fantasma

Napa River Velo Gran Prix, E4 – 4/4/09

Move b!tch, get out the way, get out the way b!tch get out the way… is a song from Ludacris very famous in the early 00’s. So you old-schoolers probably never knew about this masterpiece that Luda and Mystikal put out. The first paragraph of the song continues in this very sentimental and deeply philosophical approach to address what can be applicable to every day life situations. It could be while driving in the city in heavy traffic, or in the bus when someone takes your spot, in summary even applicable to a Critorial Stimulus Package:

“I’ma ’bout to punch yo…lights out

Get the FCK back, guard ya grill
There’s somethin’ wrong, we can’t stay still
I’ve been drankin’ and bustin’ two”

With about 1/3 of the race under our belt at the Napa Crit we are going into the “Crazy P” turn. I am the third bike from the front and I am going into the turn at full speed, but an older fellow from Z-Team, who was second in line, goes into the turn with full brake pressure. I can just listen to the friction of the pads against the rim and I shouted out “get off the brakes.” The older Z-Team fella gets a bit paranoid and down he went. Of course I was following too close and had no other option to dive my bike into his and take a tumble.

So, this was just like Luda’s song. I mention to the older fella to “move b!tch, get off the brakes”. While we were on the floor, I re-discovered the power of the dark side. Anger overtook and to continue to make a reference to Luda’s masterpiece, my next thought was “I’ma ’bout to punch yo lights out” I voiced my frustration while trying to unclip and untangle our bikes.

After the unfortunate event, I took my free lap and continued to race in the front to finish with an 8^th.

In summary this was a great race for me. Managed to attack a couple times, I was at the front of the pack the entire race (probably too close to the front and enjoying less drafting), went down and did not damage myself or the bike that much. An 8^th finish, which I think is an embarrassment. I feel the form is coming along and should be put to good use at real bike racing rather than these Critorial Stimulus Packages. Ahh and also I wish my nickname would be something like “Crazy P”

Dr. Wattini

Napa River Velo Gran Prix, E4 – 4/4/09

With joy in my heart and sleep in my eyes I donned the old blues of the BBC and mounted a much older 14-speed Diamond Back to take a stab at the Elite 4 race this morning. I’ve spent all winter growing out the beard that brought me good luck at Land Park last year so I was feeling ready for anything.

The course was tortuous with only two straight lengths to use for moving up in standard accordion maneuvers. Racing confirmed that the “P” in “P-turn” did stand for “piss your pants” or “pedal strike” or “pound pavement” as there was a crash every fourth lap or so. I think Alvaro was tangled up in one of these.

For this reason I tried to stay in the top 10 for most of the race and avoid riding on the front. Since laps were very short, around 60 sec, I started guarding a top 5 position with 10 laps to go. It became clear that in my race the inside line was the way to protect position, even if we weren’t making elegant turns.

A TT monster from Clover strung the pack out for laps 4 through 2 and politely popped going into the last lap. Although my plan to attack out of turn 3 did not work out I managed to exit the P-turn second wheel and opened the short finishing sprint. I got nipped at the line by half a bike length for second place.

For the majority of the race I was very happy w/ my 25c tires (excellent cornering) and down tube shifters but I’m afraid not being able to upshift in the sprint may have cost me.

Ward’s Ferry Road Race, E4/5 – 3/28/09

It was cold outside, but that was quickly remedied by the climbing. I realize now that Velo Promo has a different concept of “hills” than most people. What they described on their website as “rolling” was actually close to 6,000 feet of climbing in 50 miles. I stayed around 10th-20th wheel while Alvaro killed it in the front for the entire race. The descent was gnarly; I lost rear wheel contact over bumps and potholes more than once.

By the fourth and final lap, I was dying. I made it up the main climb with the group, and I looked back to notice that we had thinned out to maybe 15. Unfortunately, Jordan wasn’t with us anymore, but Alvaro was still killing it near the front. We hit the descent and were flying. I struggled to regroup on the climb afterwards, and I was pretty sure I had lit all my matches. The pace was still fast, but sitting in let me recover to some extent. Bill introduced himself to me, but all I could do at this point was make incomprehensible sounds.

At around 2K to go, I was on Alvaro’s wheel as he stood up and sheared his derailleur hanger off. I guess the bike just couldn’t handle Dr. Wattini’s epic power. At 1K from the finish, I looked up the massive hill and saw three guys up the road. They proved to be too far to catch, but I managed to get away from the group and finish 5th, sprinting up the hill and coming around Bill, who I’d forgotten was on my team, by less than half a bike length.

Warnerville Road Race, E4/5 – 3/29/09

Sunday we showed up at Warnerville. I was disappointed because it was a flat and rolling big crit. I hate those damn Crits. The race went on and the wind picked up impressively, which transformed this crit into a real road race.

There was one fellow who took off into the wind alone, which was a very bold move. The pack worked super hard to bring the guy back. We had him at about 10 seconds and two guys decided to close the gap. As soon as they took off, I knew that was the winning move. Just like Cavendish figures things out in seconds, I figured out they were gone.

They kept the gap at about 30 seconds. It was a combo of them really winning the race and the chasers just losing the race. My gearing acted up, lost contact with the group of 6 chasers and I had to give it my all to catch back after I figured out what to do with my shifter. I could not sprint with all my powa! And took an 8^th place.

Then I got home and was eating some ice cream with peanut butter and watching the TV. Lebron James was on being interviewed about basketball and life in general. He made a couple good comments, but one stuck to my head. You cannot be afraid to fail. That is life, sometimes you win, and sometimes you fail but not giving it a try because fear is the easiest way to lose. When those guys took off today, I knew instantaneously that they were the winning move, and I felt they will be caught, but also felt afraid to give it my all to catch the move.

Land Park Criterium and Bariani Road Race E5 – 3/22/09

Criteium: The elite 5’s were the first race of the day. It was freezing outside but once I started warming up I barely noticed.

The whistle blew and we were off. A ton of people passed me on the sides, but once the commotion stopped, I achieved my goal of staying in the top 15 for the whole race. Several breakaways were attempted. Since I was at the front, I probably tried to be in 80% of the breaks that other riders were attempting, which in retrospect was probably too aggressive.

On the bell lap, I held my position at about 3rd wheel coming through the chicane and the final right-hand turn. After the turn, I lost some position as a dude from Rio Strada pushed me off my line. This would come down to what I didn’t want: a pack sprint. I jumped though, and went to the right just as two guys went down to my left. I kept “sprinting” (I can’t sprint worth crap) and pulled a 4th place finish!

Road Race: The race started, and our first lap (out of 3) was very slow. I managed to maintain a top 10-15 position in the pack, but I was spinning out in my junior gearing on a slight descent, which wasn’t a good sign. The “King of the Mountain” was a teeny roller, and approached too quickly for me to contest it. The second lap proved a bit harder than the first. A brutal crosswind picked up and I was almost getting blown off the road. At the start of the 3rd and final lap, I looked back and realized that the pack had disappeared. Only 10 out of 50 or so of us were in this lead group. Someone asked the referee how much time we had on the main pack, but his reply was “You are the main pack.”

The weather took a nasty turn. The rain and wind picked up, but I looked down at my sleeve and quickly realized that it was not rain, but hail. I stood up and powered up a small “hill”, hoping to narrow things down a bit, but the pack was unfazed. The ten of us worked together well though, and things were pretty speedy until the final KOM where everyone slowed down.

Knowing that I couldn’t contest a sprint (especially in my junior gearing), I kept trying to go a bit early, hopefully with the help of one or two other guys. This ended up with me pulling the pack as we turned onto the finishing straight, and people passing me easily on the left and right as I spun out in my 50×14. I stood up to sprint up the final roller but my cadence was too high and I had to sit back down again. I ended up with an 8th place finish, which I was super happy with.

Overall a great weekend of racing; it feels good to get two top ten finishes,

Madera Stage Race E4 – 3/15/09

Criterium

My plan for the crit was to stay with the pack, get the same time as everyone else and then focus on ITT. I think everyone knows that the Madera Stage Race comes down to the TT.

Individual Time Trial

One of the reasons that I bought a TT bike was because I really like this race. It’s a great race for team bonding and working on your skills against the clock. My time this year for the ITT was 24:53. I was slower this year than the previous year on my road bike with clip-ons but this year there was a strong head wind the last ~3 miles of the race.

Saturday afternoon at race headquarters (Hampton Suits) the Crit + ITT results were posted and I was sitting in 24^th position overall. The guy that won the ITT (and the crit!!) was leading me by 2:44; the 2^nd place position by 55 seconds; and 3^rd place by 1:30ish.

Positions 4 through 24 were separated by 25 seconds or less. So, the only option for me to get into the Top 10 in GC was to win or place in the Road Race (in order to get the 20 or 10 second time bonuses)

Road Race

Since the RR is relatively flat and no real selection point (like a nice long climb) the race pretty much stays together until the final lap at the finish for the set of rollers and the final (uphill) 200 meters.

My plan was to stay protected on the left side until the last 100 meters (wind was coming from the right) and then try to slide through on the left side along the road edge-out from the draft of a rider- and sprint to the finish. I ended staying protected from the wind for a while but couldn’t see any gap to move up on the left. I moved to the right and with about 100 meters to go was in about 15 to 20^th position. Unfortunately, just when I really started moving a Webcor guy crashed in front of me. I braked, moved to the right to avoid hitting him and lost my momentum. I think I finished in the top 15 for the RR.

Overall (GC) I think I finished about 25 of 75.

Menlo Park Grand Prix – 3/8/09

This was my first time doing the Menlo Park Grand Prix. The course was changed from previous years. It’s now a 1.4 mile circuit that involves a right/right/left/right/sweeper.

Whistle blows and we’re off. 100 riders, full field and full effort right from the beginning, given that this would be such a short race. Things got bogged down for the left hand turn where only about 4 riders abreast can go at a time. I lost my position on this left turn a couple of times as numerous riders were yelling out “on your left” and “on your right” to fly by in the gutter just before the left turn in an effort to sneak up a few positions. I seriously believe that if you have to yell this out, it’s not appropriate to pull this maneuver.

Things hold until the prime on the fourth lap. I’m towards the back half of the pack but a rider from Webcor gave me a great tow from about 60th place to 2nd place in a matter of just a few hundred meters. He held this burst through the first two right turns before another rider came through and passed both of us. I jumped on the back wheel of this new leader but by now we were all pushing against a headwind on the back side of the course and I could feel the unfamiliar buzzing sound (at least to me) of a peloton closing in.

As we approached the sweeper that leads into the final straight-away, the pack devoured us. With that, my chance at $50 prime glory was gone.

With one lap to go I was in the top 10-20. Speeds picked up considerably. I made the first right turn on the final lap and then got shoulder bumped by a rider on my inside who didn’t hold his line. I was proud of myself that I didn’t freak out. I did, however, lose my position a bit and ended up mid-pack. I knew it would be beyond my abilities to move up to any meaningful position to contest for anything so I played it safe and coasted in to a mid-pack finish.

Thanks to the Tuesday night Port rides, I feel better about my handling skills.