Wente Road Race - April 26, 2008

Category: Elite 5

3 laps ~50 miles

Teammates: None!



The most amazing part of this race was that I got to race...I was 15th on the waiting list, so I wasn't sure if I'd get in, but I woke up Saturday and headed out to Livermore via the Dublin/Pleasanton BART Station (14 miles of flat riding between BART and the race start, which made for a nice slow warmup). I figured if I didn't get to race, I'd just do a ride out nearby Mines road, since I rarely get to ride this part of the Bay Area. I rolled up to the start line just in time to hear my name called for the wait list, pinned my number on, and lined up. It was good old-fashioned hot outside, which was kind of a nice change, but also made for a grueling race. There were Touchstone riders is several other categories, but none in my race.


Unlike other recent races, our field was frisky right from the start, and within 2-3 miles a group of 3 took off. The loop's main climb on Altamont Pass Road started shortly thereafter, and as others had warned me, it was a pretty stiff climb. We were only 5 miles in and I was already redlined - but by the sounds of the breathing around me, so was everyone else. I moved toward the front as we crested the hill to avoid the infamy of sketchy Cat 5 descending, and I was relieved to find that the descent was on near perfect pavement. I was glad to be near the front, as some gaps opened up on the descent, but a group of about 10 were able to stick together near the front. The downhills on this course were strange - they never let you truly recover - I'm not sure if there was a slight headwind, but I know that I did plenty of pedaling even when going downhill.

The 2nd climb of the first lap wasn't nearly as long as the 1st, but it was enough to cause some further gaps to open up. I thought that a lead group of 15 or so would stay away at this point (and I hoped it would, since I was in that group), but I was wrong - a large pack reformed within a few miles. This pattern would become a theme for the day - a lead group consistently opened a gap on the two climbs, but would then rebunch on the downhill and flat sections. We just weren't working together very well at the front (there were lots of us without teammates, and no great organization happening) and there was enough motivation in the pack for a big group to stay in contact. The heat became a factor on the 2nd lap - I was going through water like it was going out of style, and wishing that I had an extra bottle tucked into a jersey pocket. I totally botched an attempted water grab from an unknown (and generous) spectator, and was OUT of water as the 3rd and final lap began.

The action started on the 3rd trip up the main climb (the race was 3 laps, but it finished on the main climb, so we would make a total of 4 trips up the hill). Several guys who were near the front all day still had plenty of juice left, and they hit the hill hard. I struggled to go with them, nearly blew up, and then settled into a manageable tempo with another rider. I hoped that what had happened on laps 1 and 2 would repeat itself, and that we'd catch back on going dowhnill. We alternated pulls, and ALMOST did catch back on before the second climb, but not quite, and the effort was causing me some serious pain. I was unable to do any more serious work, but the guy I was with did bridge to the lead group. I couldn't believe I was putting myself in a situation to ride alone yet again (it happened at Orosi and Wards Ferry too)...what kind of an idiot bike racer am I, I thought? Well that thought didn't last long, because two other riders who were also alternating pulls came flying by a few minutes later. I knew I'd regret not digging hard to latch on with them, and I was relieved when I made contact and could catch my breath for a moment.

One of these two riders was the same guy from Simply Fit that towed Elmar and me to the finish line at Orosi (tree-trunk legs...), and he soon shed me and his compadre. The two of us worked together pretty well along the flats...the poor guy thought we were done when we went past the start area, and patted me on the back for a job well done. I had to explain to him that we still had 5 miles to go, including the Altamont Pass climb. He looked at me in horror, and I didn't mind that he mostly sat on my wheel after that. My mouth was so dry, but my legs felt pretty good at the base of the climb - I punched it as hard as I could, but never did catch the guy from Simply Fit. I crossed the line alone in 11th place.

Thanks to Ken for the lift to Oakland after the race. The 4 mile ride from the finish line to the start area was enough for me...I'm not sure I would have survived the ride all the way back to BART!

Inexperienced at Madera

Cyclists from every corner of the globe share a deep appreciation for the Grand Tours, no matter how dope ridden they may be. The challenge of competing in a long stage race day after day and in different events is one that requires incredible fitness, skill in a variety of cycling disciplines, an extremely high pain threshold, and mental fortitude that would make Yoda proud. I had done the day after day (and night after night) thing fairly successfully, chugging through the French countryside during PBP, half comatose with a cadence of sixty something on the endless rollers of Brittany, powered by a fairly constant recovery heart rate that would spike to LE on a hard effort.

A stage race would be different: shorter, more intense, and varied. For the graying, lowly Cat5, a ‘Tour’ of anything is out of reach, but there is the Madera Stage Race, a two-day event in the Central Valley of California that has all the basic ingredients: criterium, time trial, and road race.

The Criterium: admittedly, I have an aversion to crits. Seems like every crit I’ve ever watched (and there’ve been quite a few) involved an ambulance at some point. Aversion breeds avoidance, thus the Madera Stage Race Criterium turned out to be my first crit. We all line up, but the race is running behind schedule. Instead of worrying about the beneficial effects of my ‘sophisticated’ warm-up behind a parked trailer truck evaporating with time, I start talking to the guys right next to me. Amazingly they’ve both climbed before, one at Pipeworks, and pretty soon we’re passing time reminiscing about routes at Lover’s Leap. Who needs warm-up anyway?!

The crit is pretty basic: 40 minutes, flat, wide, smooth pavement, four corners, one bumpy railroad track, and a good dose of speed. It’s a great first crit: for the most part people hold their line and look out for each other. Riders shout, point, motion, and pat, mostly in a friendly way. The Juniors are pretty solid, the pace around 25mph. The pack stays together, the surges out of corners are forgiving, and there’s always a bit of a rest on the East side of the loop. I sit in and get sucked along. A few riders duel for time bonuses, but the pack stays together – there are no breaks. Everyone seems content and acutely aware that this is just one stage in this race, a stage that will give most riders the same time at the bunch finish. On the last lap I’m somewhere around 15^th and contemplating moving up. It would have been easy to jump five or six spots on the inside between the railroad tracks and last corner, but at what cost? My lack of experience left me wondering and I stayed conservative, easing up, eating wind, and getting passed on the way to the finish line. One down, two to go.

The Time Trial: this was my third weekend of racing in a row. Sometime between Orosi and Ward’s Ferry, I won an eBay auction for a ‘TT bike.’ It was cheap, the dimensions seemed acceptable, and I would finally reap the benefits of slicing through the wind, instead of wrestling with it. If only the darn thing would just show up at my door step. Emergency email to fellow Touchstoners – no replies! None! Panic!!! Riding my Roubaix without aero bars would vanquish the slicing wind dream – not acceptable! Putting clip-ons on the Roubaix would surely doom me to instant carbon handlebar failure (insert picture of Hincape eating dirt instead of winning Paris-Roubaix - fine it was the aluminum steerer, not carbon bars, but you get the picture) – not a good option, but worth consideration. Take my wife’s bike and put clip-on bars on her aluminum bars – hmmm…. That might work, but would be a bit crunched. I rotate for a day (a few days before Madera) and the magic ‘TT’ bike shows up in the afternoon. It’s beat and has been crashed, has a road geometry, but works for the most part AND comes with an aero helmet that would make fans of Styx and Foreigner proud. Ken (thank you, thank you, thank you!!!) from Touchstone/Wrench Science fixes the thing as best as possible and I take the new beast for a spin on San Pablo Dam, the only ‘flat’ real estate nearby. The front end feels worse than a jackrabbit running from a coyote, but it’s an individual TT, so I’ll only hurt myself. Toward the end of my six-mile test ride the bike quiets down and I feel more comfortable. I walk away with a couple of distinct impressions: my heart rate is a good 20+ beats lower for the same speed and in corners I dearly miss the brake/shifter combo of my road bike.

It is hot at the Sharon TT, just East of Chowchilla, CA. My Polar HRM reads consistent temperatures in the mid- 90’s. I may not have any TT experience, but I’ve learned to suffer in the heat. The Terrible Two in 2006 was hot, well over 100 degrees on Skaggs, and I was in fair shape while the glassy-eyed lined the side of the road. Riding in 90+ degrees for 7 or so hours on the 2007 Devil Mountain Double was much, much harder, but I still managed to get to the finish… I sacrifice the planned warm-up on the trainer for a horizontal spot among the shade provided by nearby almond trees. Only a handful of racers chose to warm-up on the trainer.

Fifteen minutes before my 2:16pm start time I head out on the road for a quick spin that includes a couple of 30-second accelerations. Not ideal, but it’ll have to do. At the start I put a foot down, opting for security over the jump provided by having both feet clipped in and someone holding on to my seat. The start is slow and discouraging, 21-22 mph, but then I get more comfortable and cruise along at 24-25 mph, passing my 30-second man at about the 4 mile mark. It’s Dean, the guy from Pipeworks, a nice fellow and very solid wheel. He’s out there with no aero bars, riding his hoods. ‘Get in the drops man, get in the drops.’ My right pedal unclips as I hit one of the many grooves running across the road with a jarring thud. I turn the second corner and suddenly confront the wind. Things slow down, but the legs are still fine and the heart rate is steady and right where I want it. Unfortunately my minute man is nowhere in sight, on the other hand I’m not getting passed either. My ten miles are up - Two down, one to go…

I had not been sick in a long time, but the Tuesday before Madera I started getting a scratchy throat. By Thursday my sinuses felt ready to explode, during the pre-ride on Friday there was ‘stuff’ coming out of my nose, Saturday I lost my voice after the time trial, and by Sunday my chest had joined the party.

Before the road race I ask Pat for sage advice. She diplomatically disagrees with my last minute desperate acclimatization technique (keeping the windows up and AC off during the half hour drive to the start) and thinks that shade and no trainer is the way to go. Find out who’s right around you in the GC and memorize their number. I head off to seek shade at the results table and find out that going into the road race I’m 13^th in the GC and that there are 37 riders (of 46?) left. Sweet! Despite the exploding head and oozing nose and lungs, the legs feel fine. The crit and TT didn’t take that much out of me. The goal is top 10 in the GC!

The Road Race – after another fairly lengthy wait at the start we promenade up to the actual race. Three 17-mile laps (actually a bit shorter). It is immediately apparent that the pack stability experienced during the crit is gone. Riders are in and out, the pace surges and slows, and this is just the promenade. Four minutes into the actual race there is a crash in the middle of the field. On a flat section of road, cruising along at a relatively moderate speed! The pack stays jittery for the remainder of the lap and we all curse the stretch of rough road, the ‘cobbles.’ It’s not continuous, but it goes on intermittently for about 4 miles. There’s little cohesion in terms of what to do. Some are out of the saddle, some on. Some are pedaling, some are not. Some hit the ruts and potholes head-on, others jerk the wheel at the last second. It’s no fun… Out of the crud and into the rollers. I’m surprised at how the pack slows at the first big hill, are they saving their legs or are they shot? Most likely a bit of both.

Our group is still well together and settles down a bit on the second lap, until we hit the cobbles again. Attack! The guy comes from somewhere in the back and bounces around on the left side. We watch him move to the front and start accelerating. He gets a small gap, which gets closed quickly. One hard minute and it’s all over. Suddenly I can barely turn my cranks. I look down to see if I’ve flatted. It doesn’t seem like it, but I can’t look too long. I slow, the pack keeps moving. I stop, the pack grows distant. My front left brake pad is stuck to my wheel. I open up the calipers and start riding again. Note to self: you can kiss that top 10 GC spot goodbye. Addendum: when you flat the cranks still keep turning. My inexperience becomes crystal clear as I chase across the rest of the cobbles. Getting closer. The big roller gives me another opportunity, but I’m still down 60-70 yards by the time the tail of the pack crests and done by the time I get to the top. It’s a familiar situation: time to sit down and pick up the pieces…

I catch the first guy, Eddie, at the very end of the 2^nd lap. He’s pretty done, but with some encouragement and persuasion he agrees to work with me. We’ll do 20-30 second pulls, going at our own pace. We stay together and catch another rider half way through the lap. He’s in a bit worse shape, but contributes some short pulls. Finally he complains of back problems and drops off on the cobbles. The Pro/1/2/3 women pass us. Ouch! I see a blur of four Touchstone jerseys! We pick up a group of three just before the rollers and one more on the big roller. They have a hard time staying with us and drop back a little, but not too far. The finish is near. I really appreciated Eddie’s efforts on this last lap and decide we should go across the line together. However, I don’t want the rest of the guys behind us to beat us. As we crest the big roller, they’re nipping at our wheels. One last roller - a rider passes us. Eddie tells me to go for it and I put the hammer down…

Wards Ferry- April 5, 2008

Hilly course: One longer climb (2k?), several small steep hills, fast winding descent, no flats

Elite 4/5 A

4 laps- 51 miles

Touchstone riders: Markham Connolly, Ken Dick, Jonathan Buck, Elmar Stefke, Valentino Pelizier

Woke up to a beautiful but brisk morning at the Alladin Hotel in Sonora. I went downstairs to the lobby at 5:45am and had a prerace meal with a guy in a cowboy hat, shorts, birks, and earphones clearly engaged in his own world. Shortly after, Andrew, who now rides for Zteam, Pieps, an old Telluride buddy who now resides in Grass Valley, and I loaded up the car to head to the start. After taking a wrong turn out of the hotel and losing, uh…hum, valuable warm-up time we finally got to registration. Burrrrrr….it’s cold. Veterans said that it was warmer than last year and that it'll get hot when we get on the course. I have to admit, it was hard to believe. I started digging for extra clothing. Do I wear knee warmers? Nope…because I can’t find the left one. Do I wear full fingered gloves? Nope…because I can’t find the right one. Fortunately, the sun started to shine on us and made the temp much more comfortable.  I love the sun. The veterans were right on. I got the bike on the trainer and was able to get a good 25 minute warm-up and had plenty of time to get to the start without rushing. This was a first.

50 of us paraded out to the course behind the race official on a motorcycle. He pulled off but apparently we were still in neutral. I never quite got when the race started. I asked Andrew when the race started. He said, “now, you idiot.” The pace all of sudden started picking up. Great! Let’s get the show on the road.

The first lap was slower than I thought it would be. I stayed behind two guys at the front waiting for an attack on the first climb, which turned to be the longest climb of the course- about 2k. On the descent to the backside, the field was jittery and unsettled. I made sure to stay near the front because the winding roads were narrow with potholes. We were going pretty darn fast. We hit a couple of rollers after the first descent which slowed everyone down quite a bit and then another fast but shorter descent lead us to the next series of steeper hills. I decided to make the first and longer one a place to feed every lap. The subsequent shorter but steeper hills felt stiff and the hill to the finish was going to be a leg burner. It was good to see what was in store for the next three laps.

Shortly after the finish hill, we passed the feed zone and turned to start the second lap. I stayed in the top 5 on the longer climbs. Two guys (I think it was a Zteam and Davis rider) decided to "gitty up" and try to create a gap. I was in the front of the group watching them. They pulled away a little more, so I decided to bridge to them making sure that they didn't sneak away. It was a pretty easy effort and knew that I'd cause a little surge for the folks in the back. At this point, possible contenders started to appear (1 member of each): ZTeam, Fusion, and Davis. We, along with a few others, controlled the front. Fusion was just sitting in with us. I noticed that Andrew would start towards the front when we started climbing but then drift back. When we crested the hill he would then jet up to the very front for the descent. He said it was by design because he was getting taxed on the climbs and didn’t want to be gapped on the descent. The descent felt smoother and the short steep hills felt better this time around. I was starting to loosen up and getting into a good rhythm. Still, I felt there were too many of us at front for this race.

When we approached the feedzone at the start of lap 3 I decided to pick up the pace for the longer climb because I felt good and at home on this climb. I got out on front and picked up the pace but still within a reasonable heart rate zone. I looked back to see who was still hanging on. More were starting to hurt and I almost felt that I could take off at that point and make a real break for it. But, I also thought that I’d pull too many guys with me and worried about blowing up. That’s the risk, huh. This is where lack of experience comes in. I stayed at front to the top and then let the contenders come around to do some pulling. No one wanted to, so I slowed down and started demanding that they do it. Andrew told me that I should go pull. I had to remind him that I pulled everyone up the hill. This is where I really felt in control of the race. The backside was fine and some of us pushed it on the steep climbs and really pushed it on the finish hill before starting the fourth lap. We  turned the corner with fewer guys.

I still wanted to get more guys off the back. I got up front and again controlled the pace with a reasonable tempo. I noticed the Davis guy who always started the lap up front wanted to increase the tempo as well. I matched him and upped the ante. He couldn’t stick. Zteam was right behind me and Fusion behind him. Andrew hung on. At the top there were 7 of us left. We drove it fairly hard through the descent. I stayed tucked in behind Zteam and Fusion. Zteam decided to do a pull until we got to the steep rollers. Zteam, Fusion, Davis, and I controlled the front. I knew that I was not going to be finishing below 3^rd at this point. Don’t really know why but I knew that Davis wasn’t going to be a factor on the steeps and I saw guys behind us hurt on previous hills as well. I kept my eye on Zteam and Fusion. The three of us hit the first steep hill pretty hard. We hit the second steep really hard. We cruised to the 200 meter mark and that’s where the three of us took off for the sprint leaving the others behind. Zteam started in front. I was left of him and Fusion was on the right. With 10 meters left I saw a gap happening. C’mon legs! Damn! Fusion hands went up and won the race. Zteam was a very close second. I crossed the line in third place about 5 yards behind. I felt pretty good about it especially knowing that I put some work into the race to make this happen. Fusion congratulated me for the effort Touchstone put in. I appreciated the Davis and Zteam riders for their effort as well. I never really saw the Fusion rider do any pulls. He just tucked in and hung in there- probably the best strategy.

It was great riding with so many Touchstoners in the race. I think that was the most teammates I’ve ever had in a race. Ken helped me by identifying the contenders and riding strong. I remember Elmar coming up to me to say this isn’t anything like the P-B-P (Paris-Brest-Paris). Valentino was going strong down the descent and hanging in there on the hills. Jonathan had a frustrating race by flatting on the first lap. Jonathan, we’ve all been there. As a matter of fact, my front wheel spoke broke in the first 200 yards of the Brisbane Circuit Race the week before Wards Ferry. Good job everyone.

Results: Markham 3^rd,Ken 11^th, Valentino 16^th, Elmar 19^th- please correct me if I’m wrong. The results aren't up yet.

Congrats to Chris, Amy, Vanessa and Anne on their top 10 finishes. 

Note: I encourage anyone who was in this race to give their perspective. This report is obviously from the recollection and view from my saddle.