Copperopolis M45+ 4/5 B/C 22(48)

The course:

As one of the classic races on the NCNCA calendar, Copperopolis has a bit of a reputation, mainly because of the rough roads which have earned it the nickname “Paris-Roubaix of California!” “Tighten down your bike and hold on to your dentures!” Looking at all the DNPs one would have to agree, but what I encountered was no worse than coming down the Geysers or Black Mountain on the Terrible Two or the North side of Morgan Territory prior to this year. Don’t get me wrong: this is not Sea Otter Circuit Race pavement, it’s rough and bumpy, but it’s not riddled with massive potholes and exposed roots. Riding a Roubaix with its longer wheelbase and a 700x23 in the front and 700x25 in the rear, both at a modest 100lbs, my backside felt significantly better than after any of the doubles or brevets I’ve done. Even with a pair of Ksyriums…

The course starts in the metropolis of Milton, a few houses clustered around a rather oversized Masonic barn. Heading Southeast on Rock Creek Road one is quickly introduced to the rough pavement. It doesn’t get much worse than the stretch leading up to the feed zone a couple of miles into the race. The first hill is really a series of steps on a narrow road. This isn’t quite as apparent when looking at Polar or Garmin data files, but becomes obvious on a pre-ride inspection. While the elevation gain still favors climbers at this point it is different from very climbing oriented races such as Pine Flat or Orosi. The wind and rollers past the first hill keep things interesting for everyone and it’s my sense that the race suits strong roleurs. The second hill lasts only a couple of minutes and the grade is benign. The following downhill is rough, but quite fast. Yes, there is some barbed wire on the right…

The Race:

My warm up on the trainer was a bit short and just before the race – 15 minutes, with a 30 second hard effort at 5 minutes and another at 8 minutes. I switched skewers on the rear wheel and headed for the start across the street, lining up with other riders in the M45+ 4/5C field. Casual conversation with the rider next to me revealed some startling tidbits: “they’ve combined the fields…” “What?!?!?!” I’m in utter disbelief and my pre-race strategy falls apart seconds before the start. I dreadfully realize that being with other Cs puts all of us at the back of the now combined field, a bad place to be. On top of that my field just more than tripled in size, forty-eight instead of fourteen. Welcome to Copperopolis!

The race starts and people are hammering right from the left turn on to Rock Creek Road. I try to make up ground, but it’s a bit sketchy out there. For the most part riders are holding their line, but the rough road plays a factor. There is no center line, so we’re covering the whole road. By the first uphill (to the feed zone) I’m in the top third of the field and there’s some bumping going on. The pace is insane from my perspective and I’m longing for a lawn chair and margarita. The legs feel fine, but my heart is repeatedly trying to evacuate. Surely this must slow down when we hit some of the bigger steps on the climb. I pass Will H. from Touchstone and latch on to Lee Millon’s wheel. Lee’s a buddy from DBC who’s done a bunch of brevets and PBP with me. He’s solid on the bike and has been doing really well in races (should upgrade to 3s), so I figure he’d be a good wheel to grab. We hit the steep step and Lee’s coming backwards. I pass and yell at him to keep it going. The pace has intensified and I’m getting that drooling slobber feeling. It’s the hardest I’ve ever gone for this long. My HRM tells me I’ve been redlining well over threshold for what seems like an eternity and have equaled the highest heart rate from a max test last fall. We hit the houses on top of the hill, the road flattens a bit, Lee has found his second wind and passes me, my legs blow. The lead group accelerates and gaps me. At least half a dozen more riders pass me after the false flat, until I finally find the strength to latch on to a couple of wheels that don’t pull away from me.

Our little group of three gets into a pace line and works well together, we’re all putting in our fair share. One of the guys drops off, leaving me with a rider from TBS. We rotate well and work toward catching people in front of us. There’s a lone rider who’s been dangling out there for a while, but we only reel him in slowly and he crests the second hill before us. At the bottom of the downhill I see a Touchstone jersey. It turns out to be Amy - she appears less than thrilled. I give her a pat on the back as we motor past. A bit further we catch our carrot, the single rider (Tim), at the STOP sign toward the end of the first lap and work our way back to the steps in a pace line of three. The guy from TBS drops off near the top of the hill, but we pick up James from Roaring Mouse. He looks pretty beat, but still puts in some strong pulls. At the base of the second hill he fades. Tim sticks with me for a little while and then also fades. I keep on going, pass a guy from DBC and hit the downhill. Toward the bottom of the hill Tim is back and loses a bottle right in front of me. The thing squirts out and drops in front of me like a hot potato. I barely miss it.

We still rotate for a bit and then go side by side as we approach the finish. I’m thinking about how this will play out. He’s probably stronger in absolute power, but faded on the last hill and it’s an uphill finish. The 1km sign passes, then the 200m sign. I tell Tim I’m good with passing the line together and we roll across at the same time. It’s a good way to end a beautiful race. We worked well together and there’s no need to kill sportsmanship and fun with a last second dash for a mid-pack finish. Copperopolis was an awesome race!

Elmar

April Training Rides

For those of you not racing Copperopolis and/or Sea Otter John Swift and I are organizing two killer training rides to get in some good base miles, a fair amount of climbing, and to take in a little of the California springtime that seems to pass us by living in and around the city.

The rides are as follows:

King's Ridge. 4/11 - One of the best rides in Northern California. Start in Occidental, head north along King's Ridge to Sea Ranch (lunch stop), then back down the coast to Jenner. We can even add in Coleman Valley Rd if we want a little more pain at the end of the ride, but the plan is to finish on Willow Creek Road which is a little easier. 100 miles, 9000+ ft of climbing.


Big Basin 4/18- Another stellar ride! Start at Arastradero Park and climb Pagemill Rd to Skyline. From Skyline, drop down in to Big Basin all the way to Ben Lomond (Lunch). Climb back out Zayante Rd to Skyline. Scream down Rt 9 towards Saratoga, making our way past Stevens Creek Resevoir on our way back to Arastradero. 85 miles, 13,000+ ft of climbing

ROLL TIME WILL BE AT 8am for both rides. These are going to be long days, but both rides have options that will shorten them to around 60 miles if you're on a schedule. Please post here if you would like to join. For Kings Ridge, we'll have to pre-order lunch at Sea Ranch, and posting will also facilitate carpooling. Also, given the distances and climbing involve with these rides, please don't invite people that will cause the group to wait beyond just lagging a little on the hills. That said, please feel free to invite anyone that is willing and able to join.

--
Chris

Pine Flat RR 2009 (Part II)

I won't recount the drama that unfolded before the race even began - Chris has documented it well, and I really don't want to relive the horror anyway. But here's my rundown of race day, my first race as a mighty Cat 4:


I guess living in CA has softened me up, because at the race start it was 40 degrees, and I was freezing. I layered up with nearly all the clothes I brought, and except for the fleece cap I was happy to have it all on. There isn't really a great place to warmup at Pine Flat, and I didn't have a trainer, so I just hoped that the first part of the race would be mellow. Not so - after the "neutral" 200' steep starting climb, the action got going, with godspeed riders instigating. The first 20+ miles (out-and-back portion) had lots of little surges that got my heart ramped up quick. I think I had some first race jitters, because I wasn't very focused and let a few gaps open up on some corners, which then required accelerations that were harder than they needed to be. After about 10 miles, things settled down a bit and I took a moment to enjoy the view of Pine Flat Lake. Overall, the field was content to stick together, and didn't much bother to chase when someone shot off the front. I tucked in near the back, and tried to remember to keep drinking despite the cold.


The long descent toward Belmont Road was a blast - great pavement and nice sweeping turns, and all the folks around me holding pretty good lines. For several miles, things were unevenful - I tried to take shelter from the moderate cross-winds, and very slowly moved my way to the middle half of the group as opportunities presented themselves. On a dead-straight section of road, there was a pretty nasty crash near the front of the field - I didn't see what happened, but the sound was awful as both bikes and bodies piled on one another - I was able to scoot around the carnage, but did get clipped by a flailing bike. I turned to make sure Chris wasn't down, and then found myself near the front of a now smaller field. I think nearly 10 guys went down, and a few of their teammates stopped to assist. The crash took some wind out of the sails of the group (or perhaps everyone was trying to save their legs for the climb to come), and for a few miles the pace dipped.

Our Saturday pre-ride of the last 10 miles of the course was really helpful, because when we did finally hit the main climb, I knew where it was going to hurt. I figured attacks would come as soon as we were on the climb, but that didn't really happen - Chris and about 4 other strong men did go to the front and slowly pull away, however. It was clear that this was going to be the winning move, but my legs didn't care, so I settled for cresting the climb alone in ~20th place as the field strung out. Some regrouping happened on the downhill, and about 5 of us got into a semi-organized rotation. The leaders were well up the road, and I knew we didn't have a chance to catch them, but I didn't want to get caught by the stragglers behind us either.

By the time we hit the final 1/2 mile climb, our group had swelled to 7, and I had a little left, so I pushed the pace right away at the 1km mark. This shed a few guys, but Webcor and Dolce Vita were right with me, and when they came around me with ~300m to go, I was toast. Getting to the finish line was painful, and I got nipped at the line by a hard-charging guy that I was too delirious to even hear coming. 16th place. 10 minutes later my sweat was turning to ice as we awaited the rest of our gang from the masters race. Thanks to Elmar for lending a jacket - otherwise I think I would have been in real trouble!

Pine Flat Road Race 2009

So, ever wonder what would happen if your bike flew off of the top of your car at 70 mph? Well let me set the scene for you….

Dustin, Mike, and I are on Hwy 152, just west of Los Banos. We’re in the fast lane making pace, but keeping it reasonable because it’s a holiday weekend. We are a half hour or so in front of the other car, planning to meet in Fresno before pre-riding the hill. Music is playing, we’re chatting it up, and we hear a loud thump. It almost sounded as if we had just hit a dog or something but with no shock to the car. Mike in the back seat says, “What was THAT?”. I check my mirrors and all seems in order. About 10 seconds later we hear and this time we feel another loud crash. Dustin is looking out the sunroof and says, “The BIKES!”, Mike lets out a “Holy Shit”.

I glance up at the rear view mirror. My stomach hits the road… The entire roof rack with about 12k of our precious carbon cargo is somersaulting down the middle of the highway. Absolute chance had left the lane behind us empty of traffic. I watch the bikes tumble to a stop as I slam on the brakes and pull off the road. We back up to the bikes, which have conveniently landed upright on the shoulder of the road. Mike’s Giant had ripped out of the rear tire strap, but the front fork is still engaged in the clamp. Both Dustin’s bike and mine are still fully strapped in to the racks. We do a quick visual inspection of the bikes. Mike’s bike certainly seems the have taken the major punches. The broken rear strap allowed it to swing back and forth as it tumbled down the road. The front levers are both collapsed inward. My beloved Cinelli was on the other outward side of the rack but stayed completely connected to the rack. It's come to rest with only having a few grams of carbon shaved of the left brake lever. Dustin’s bike, in the middle of the rack, has absolutely no damage.

We make a phone call to Mr. Rossi who is now only about 10 minutes away and we wait for them to show up. We pull the wheels off of the bikes, move their luggage to my car and put the bikes in the back of his station wagon. We head to the hotel to unload gear and meet up with John S. who is already there. Later that afternoon we reassemble the bikes, and give things a twice over. Everything is working, not a single component is broken on any of the bikes! We pre-ride the last 10 miles of the route, making sure the bikes are "ok".

Mike's bars post crash

Race Day…

As the high for the day is only forecasted to be 44 degrees at noon, deciding what to wear is easy. My strategy is to just sit in at the back of the field and wait for the hill. I know anyone that attempts a breakaway is going to be toast by the climb, at least I'm hoping it's so.

Two riders, each on his own individual breakaway are somewhere out in front of the group for quite a while, as the group turns on to Watts Valley Road. Shortly after the turn something happens and a pile of what looks like 8-12 guys is in a mound in front of me. Water bottles, bodies and bikes are all over the place. Those that are still up fan around the crash, and a few teammates stop to help their own.

The pace slows as everyone’s bodies absorb some adrenaline. It’s not clear exactly what happened to cause the pile up, but the pace is slow and doesn’t really pick up for a mile or so as people get their legs back. By the hard right on WVR, everyone is alert again, and it’s back to race pace. The tempo is very reasonable and I just sit in waiting for someone to go. The front of the pack where I’m at is a total mess. No one wants to pace set and we just inch our way to the start of the real climb. On the way we pick off a few dropped riders and one of our breakaway guys. By now I’m ready to split the pack up. I put on a little pace and a group of 4 other riders hop on. A CVC rider hops to the front of the pack and pace sets up the climb. I settle into a comfortable pace, while watching and listening to the other riders around me. I can tell some of the other riders are hurting. I remember there’s still five miles of rollers after the hill. Rather than pushing the pace some more, I opt just to sit in and ride with the group over the hill.

Descending, we catch the other breakaway guy, and work pretty well as a group for 2-3 miles. At least two riders seem to be hanging on by a thread or just are sitting back in the rotation. At one point I rode up to the CVC rider who was taking a huge pull (because the rotation wasn’t pulling through) and told him to ease off and let the other rides move to the front or he was going to shell himself. Looking over my shoulder occasionally I could see a chase group behind us. After talking with the CVC rider and signaling to the guys behind us to pull through with no results, I dropped an f-bomb at the other riders. I apologize for that… but it did seem to get people working again.

We roll up to the 1km marker and the pace picks up a little. At the base of the hill I singled out Roland from Webcor and the CVC rider as contenders. I move to the front, checking over my shoulder to see who would match my pace. Webcor and CVC are right there. I ramp it up a little and the group starts to string out. It’s just Roland and I at the 200m mark. I stay seated and maintain a constant pace. I can hear Roland’s breathing picking up. He’s out of the saddle but drifting back. I keep it comfortable for myself to the finish line.

Coming up to the finish line

Picture by K. Weixel

Dustin and Kim's husband at the line

Photo by K. Weixel

--
Chris K.

Early Bird RR 2009

It starts like almost all the others… race jitters and a restless nights sleep. The anxiety of racing is about the only thing that can break my daily hibernation most refer to as sleep. Race day breakfast, (1) CPK Frozen thin crust pizza, heated of course - 960 calories. One large glass of OJ, no pulp – 200 calories.

Mike has a family emergency and has canceled. A call to Dustin and Elmar the night before but come up empty… I get to share my jitters and resultant gas with no one, damn! Car is packed and I leave the city around 5:30. It’s 5:40, I’m on the bridge and realize my wallet, and license are still at home. Great… after a fortunate u-turn on Treasure Island a half dozen other excuses pop in to my head on the way back to the house as to why I should climb back in bed. I convince myself that I’ve already committed to the day by downing an entire pizza. Wallet, money, license, got them, back on the road.

Almost the entire drive is in the dark. At about Patterson Pass I hit some dense fog. It’s rained heavy the day before and a little over night. The fog is so dense traffic on the 5 slows to about 30 mph. The fog thins by the time I get to Patterson.

Race number in hand, I’ve got 45 mins to warm up. Luckily there’s the exact proportional amount of mud to water on the road that kicks up about a 3ft rooster tail of brown goop with just the proper viscosity and trajectory to lay a 4” streaker up the back side of my shorts. After about 30 minutes, I feel pretty.

Back at the car again and I notice my front tire is flat. Luckily I had taken my saddlebag off my bike while putting the bike on the car. It conveniently is sitting on a shelf in my garage. Hmmm, I’m having one of those mornings…. 5 minutes until start time, but this is Velo Promo, I know I have a solid 15-20 minutes. With some help, I make it to the start line with 10 minutes to spare.

Race is off, and after the neutral start two guys are off the front, slightly, and over the next 10 miles or so stay about a half mile or so in front of the group. I’m guessing they were wondering what the hell everyone was doing, as the group made absolutely no attempt to bring them back. I just hung out in the back, enjoy the leisurely warm up, and added another 2” in length to my streak. Yes, I checked often.

Somewhere around mile 12 the group is all back together again. I’m still hanging out in the back, having small talk with who ever will share some. A few attempts at a break away happen up front, but the group reels them back in fairly quickly. I’m getting yo-yo’d at the back of the pack, and hit AT2 once or twice as we reorganize. It’s clear to me no one is going anywhere until the real climbing starts. At around mile 16 I make my way to the middle of the field and hold, I know we’ve got a little more than two miles of over 8% climbing coming up, yippy! The group hits THE turn, and the road kicks upward. Ahhhh, I love hills. I hold my ground in the middle to see what will unfold. The wheezing has begun all around me. I take a quick peek at my HR and I’m only at 80%. I drift to the front and pick up the pace to put a little distance on the main field. There are a couple guys off the front and I slow my pace to regroup with a couple of them. Only two guys have made it away from main field to join me. I know we’ll need distance if the three of us are to survive to the finish line. I pick up the pace again, but my two compatriots are falling back. I ease off again hoping some more guys will jump to the carrot that is only a 100 yards or so in front of them. It doesn’t happen.

I summit and hit the turn around about 50 yards in front of my 2 Webcore chasers. The main field is another 200 yards back. I get to bomb the descent, maybe a little to fast for the conditions. At one point I brake hard only to do a slight front wheel wheelie. About half way down I’ve caught up to a chase car heading in my direction. It’s driving at about 20 mph. I’m lucky and pass without having to tap my brakes.

Back in the flats, solo, with no one in site for as far as I can see behind me. They’ve gotten caught behind the descending chase car…. I hang out in the drops pushing for a while, but don’t really want to attempt an 18 miles solo. I ease off again, until I see a chase group behind. It’s the Webcore crew and they’ve got a nice pace line going. I slow and wait for them. As they approach i get the, “Keep Going” callout. I think to myself, yeah right, I’ve been out here solo for 8 miles already. I’m going to suck your wheels for a while, so get pulling. I hop on the back and we’re off.

The main field is holding steady, a ¼ mile or so behind us for about 3-4 miles. At one point I sit up and ask if they want to keep pushing. A chase group of about a dozen or so guys in a few hundred yards back, and I’m assuming they are just reeling us in ever so slowly, we still have 10 or so miles. My suggestion is to wait for the group, but after a brief discussion, we opt to push a little further. We get in about three more rotations, and we’re sucked back in. I’m wondering how my streak looks?

Ok, we’re at least 12 or so guys now and I drift to the back to recover a little. It takes us a mile or so to reorganize back in to a pace line, but it eventually happens, reluctantly.

Boom! A Godspeed racer is off the front with about six miles to go, solo. I grin and wait for his demise… At the 1 km mark the group is on him, and I can hear Phil Leggett lament. We start to get strung out as the pace accelerates. I feel as if I’ve only ridden 20 flat miles. One of my Webcore buds jumps at about the 500 m mark. There are quickly six or so wolves behind him. I catch a Mouse signaling to his teammate to get on his wheel and the two accelerate past the Webcore racer. We’re at about 350 meters, and I ease in behind them. The lead man starts to gap his teammate so I step in and pull up beside him. This guy was so focused, that for 30 meters I ride right next to him staring, waiting for him to jump… I never get a glance. Nothing happens, so I go with about 250 meters. At 100 meters I look over my shoulder, the field is 50 meters back. With about 50 meters left my sprint starts to fade so I give it one more look, they’re 75 meters back. I raise my arms, give my solute, and coast in.

--
Chris K.

CCCX #5 - November 23, 2008

Dustin huffing it
Originally uploaded by tastybite

I had the day off on Friday, which meant I rode my bike. It was a sunny cool day, and I just acquired a fancy new road bike that still has that rocketship feel, so I rode it way too far - up to Point Reyes - which is a much longer ride than I've been accustomed to lately, as most of my rides have been short intense efforts after work.

After that, going into this race on Sunday, I was a little nervous that my legs wouldn't have much juice left. Manzanita Park was also a long haul for me from SF for a 45-minute race, but I decided to spend the weekend in Santa Cruz, did some hiking around on Saturday and then camped out Saturday night, and that made it worth the drive. I felt sluggish during my warm-up, and when the race began, I prepared for the pain. Surprisingly, it didn't come...in fact, the first lap felt slow, and although I wasn't leading, i was close to the front, and wondering what the heck was going on. The pain did eventually come, as it always does, but this time not until about lap 3 of 5. This was when leaders slowly pulled away, but I felt pretty solid riding in the top 10.

Meanwhile, things got ugly for a few unlucky folks - someone washed out in a turn and reportedly broke an ankle, while another rider lost control and went head-first into a wooden fence post. Crashes are pretty common in cross races, but usually involve nothing more than scrapes and bruised bodies/egos - but sadly today two guys carted off in ambulances. I wish them both speedy recoveries. The course was re-routed temporarily around one of the downed riders, and it caught be by surprise and I ended up with a facefull of dirt, but luckily nothing more serious.

I finished in 8th, and was happy that both bike and body were in one piece.

BASP CX #3 - November 15, 2008

Photo by Cyclocross Magazine

If the first BASP race (McLaren) was about climbing and handling, and the second (Candlestick) was all about generating power to get through the sticky stuff, then this race (Sierra Point) was about pure speed. The course layout was flat and dry, and despite the many twisting switchbacks, there were plenty of straightaways to put the hammer down and go fast.

Big kudos to the Pilarcitos crew for trying something new with the night race! The atmosphere was festive, and racing under the lights was really fun, and surprisingly not-to-scary. My race started at 5pm, just as the sun was setting, and the changing light conditions were a nice extra challenge.

Having taken a break from racing last weekend, I felt pretty fresh for this race, and the promoter's decision to call-up 20 riders instead of 10 at the start was a big bonus for me (I was 18th overall after the 1st two races). The huge field size (80+ riders) made the start even more critical. The starting official reminded us to be careful sprinting into the 1st turn, but that didn't stop a big pileup from occuring about 100 yards after the gun went off. I narrowly missed the carnage, and tried not to let the image of skin skidding across the pavement stick in my mind as we hit the dirt and began the 1st lap.

The 1st 2 laps were blazing, and I was glad to be up near the front and away from traffic jams. Our large pack was kicking up tons of dust, and the lungs were soon burning. I jumped on a wheel on each straightaway to save energy, but by lap #3 I was well into oxygen debt and feeling the pain. As my gut screamed at me to slow down, my legs obliged and I eased up just a bit, and tried to prevent anybody from passing me, but a few guys snuck by. I had done several warmup laps before the race, which helped me find some good lines where I could make a few passes of my own. The crowd at the top of the one and only "run-up" was awesome - screaming and heckling us every lap, and I tried to return the favor by catching some air off the kicker nearby.

The pace eased just a bit during the middle of the race, and I more or less maintained my position...then things heated up again on the last 2 laps (I think we did 9 total on this super short course), and my legs were burning as I fought my way through lapped riders. Crossed the line in 18th, and was greeted by friends with miller high life, which reminded me to stop taking things so seriously and enjoy the night. We stuck around for some great racing action that went all the way until 9pm.