MT. Hamilton -This race is Tough - Version 2

By Jon Ardell
I raced w/ the Steve dude in the 3's and hung w/the lead group of about 13 until 500 yards from the Summit when the acceleration blew me out. I'd been doing all the mental calisthenics necessary for the preceding 2 miles at least, willing my body not to lose the group as one by one people dropped like flies. Ultimately that may have been a mistake but I wasn't fighting for top 20- i wanted podium!

The sick thing is I caught back up on the descent, passing an ugly fresh crash on my way down, and also had to fight to get past a lagging moto that was fucking my shit up.

Got in a chase group that closed the gap on the leaders, but I got thrown out because my legs were totally shot and threatening to sieze and I was still like 40 miles from home. It was over for me at that point, I was both emotionally and physically devastated.

About an hour after getting dropped by the chase group your boy and a few others went by me. I finished in a rag tag group of 5 and made a point of letting them all go by me at the finish. I simply didn't see the point of sprinting for 25th instead of 30th since either result was lame. I realize now this wasn't a very good attitude, but what the fuck I had to make SOME kind of statement.

This is the Downieville of road racing. It should be my race. I'm so close. I will try again next year.

MT. Hamilton -This race is Tough - Version 1

By Katie Kelly

Included on this e-mail list is Dave Waco, who won
this race in 1961. I needed to race this course first
hand before I could do an honest interview with him,
to quiz him about the training techniques of yore, and
their racing tactics. Now I know the stuff he is made
of.

The course is very simple: it starts in San Jose near
the Alum Rock exit off of I-680, and proceeds straight
up almost without relief to the observatory, before
dropping down towards Livermore, by way of rolling
hills, and some very tight, off-camber turns. Added
obstacles include skittish wild squirrels, snakes, and
roaming helicopters looming overhead, waiting like
vultures to carry away people who ride off the road,
likely to avoid the squirrels.

My main competition, among other people, was Suzy
Pryde, an Australian Olympic silver medalist, and her
professional Jazz Apple Cycling Team, along with
several other teams that have an acual race presence.
I was there in my Team Mako shark uniform, because I
know it is intimidating. Teams with actual mascots
look the most fierce. That is a little racing tip
probably most people don't know.

I gave her the evil eye minutes before the start, just
so she'd know I meant business. And that's actually
pretty much the last time I saw her, because after the
first five minutes of the race, I thought it is just
not humanly possible to ride twenty miles uphill at
that this pace. They most be doping. All forty of
these women, some of them even my good friends.

I decided to press onwards, despite my distinct
disadvantage (some might call it lack of ability, but
let's not get too critical). I thought with any luck,
half of them will flat, or avoid a squirrel, and there
may be hope for me yet.

Sooner or later I did catch a few riders. They were
wearing Camelbacks. And they were on mountain bikes.
Come to think of it, I think they were stopped on the
side of the road, taking pictures. They urged me to
keep going and I did.

I'm leaving out the part where I actually really did
catch and ride with two friends of mine, Sarah
Lightfoot and Samantha Taylor. Out of the three, Sarah
was hurting the most, but she also lasted the longest
with the main peloton before blowing up, and confessed
that she was paying for it. See, if she had wimped out
when I did, she'd feel much more fresh and optimistic
about the whole thing. I was feeling great.

I only felt uneasy on the descents. For whatever
reason, even without squirrels in my way, I was all
over the road. I seriously questioned my descending
skills.

Sarah and Sam and I continued through the flats and
rollers, with very strong pulls and smooth rotations.
There was no stopping us now.

We went over a cattle grade, and it seemed a little
extra rough, so I said, with great reluctance, "Hey,
do I have a flat?"

"You're fine, Katie," said Sarah.

"Well, it looks a little low," said Sam. "But you'll
make it."

The reason why I was reluctant about verbalizing my
fear of a flat is that I did not want to have happen
what happened the last time I thought I had a flat.
Readers of my past race reports will remember my bout
with Brain Flat. It is AWFUL. Read this, if you need a
refresher:

http://tamracingreports.blogspot.com/2006/05/brain-flat-one-racers-experience-at.html

But on the other hand, what if it really was a flat.
These are borrowed carbon tubular wheels. It was not
worth risking damaging them.

I stopped, and noticed that there was, basically, no
air in the tire. I mean more or less.

And then I noticed that the back wheel was my very
heavy training wheel, with the all-purpose,
all-weather tires. Someone forgot to switch it.

I really don't want to talk about that, but no wonder
Suzy Pryde was looking at me so funny.

In fact, as it happens, she was parked next to me at
the finish line. I'm fast forwarding past hitching a
ride to Livermore, and waving at all my competitors,
which was fun.

Suzy Pryde's rent-a-car was parked next to my ride
home's car. Her team manager noticed the puncture.

"Yep," I said. "It happened right at the start, I
reckon. That was a bitch of a climb with no air in the
tire, let me tell you."

"Why do you only have one tubular wheel on your bike?"
said her team manager.

"Oh, no," said Suzy. "How'd you forget-"

I decided to fake a stomach cramp at that moment.

Suzy Pryde was very pleasant, actually. I have decided
NOT to enter the Carrera de San Rafael this year,
because no doubt she will enter it, and I can just
feel that I'll have both racing wheels on the bike and
no flats, and I am just too afraid of what my presence
in the race will do to her psychologically, especially
if I can last maybe ten laps of the race, instead of
the five I did last year.

Lake Sonoma race 3/24

written by Jon Ardell
I had a good race at Lake Sonoma. Didn't get in to the first single
track in great position and that may have hurt me a bit, but was able
to motor pretty evenly the entire race and pick off all but one of the
single speeders. And I don't feel burned out after this one like I
did for most of last week, which is a very good thing.

Alex finally broke through and won his race in the Sport class. Nice
work Mcswain now its time to upgrade you sandbagger!

I actually paced behind the best pro woman Katarina Nash (is that
her name Alex?) the entire race and was satisfied with just staying in
touch w/her. She's so fast, not to mention hot!

There were a handful of top Pros at this one, even Mark Weir missed
the Podium!! A handful of expert geared riders including East Bay
Bill beat me as well. Its a technical course, one that you would
enjoy Krage.

Heat at 5/17 Grasshopper Race

By Alex MacSwain
Attrition began during the last couple days of record heat. Still about 55 – 60 racers showed with a handful of Nor Cal pros and bearded hard cores out of the wood works from across the north bay up through Sonoma County.

It was your usual Grasshopper start with a road promenade that went up the back side of the Sonoma Lake dam. Just before entering the single track up a last steep road jaunt, the selection was made led by about 10 and another 14 not far behind. I was just back from this second pack and followed by about 40 other riders.

Den placed a curse on himself just before the ride saying he never gets flats. 2 miles into the single track, Den was the first victim with a flat. Shortly following, on a sharp, loose right hand turn, a rider was next to the trail with his bike down. Six feet below him in a rocky creek bed, two fast guys were were making their way back up to the trail with their bikes. Their shaken expressions and a bloody knee down in a creek made you imagine the fall. Fifteen minutes later Rick Hunter was down with a mechanical. In any other race any of these riders would have caught me in five or ten minutes. I believe they each followed up their problems with fast hard efforts, which were tackled by the heat and climbs. An hour had gone by and I was psyched no one was closing in on me.

Sweet undulating winding trails, up and down, up and down with climbs ranging from short stabs of 10 yds to .75 mi, increasing heat, a great amount of shade in the 1st half, the occasional breeze on some of the crests and a ton of exposure the second half. Passed two in creek crossings, another on a climb, another and then another for a total of about five over an hour and fifteen minutes.

The sun seemed to sear your arms. Focusing on deep bikram yoga breaths, not looking up hill on climbs, relaxing arms and shoulders coupled with an attitude of making the climb, helped me pull through. Apperciating the shade and generating as much speed as possible on the down hills to generate wind to cool you down really helped.

Just before the last climb, Cameron and another rider had just taken a dip in the lake. Cameron yelled something which didn’t register for about thirty seconds. I realized he said something like “this is it, you’re close, good job”. To finish the ride – exposed and ‘steep’ for one mile. 103 degrees. Way hotter than the 77 at the start. With a name like Bummer Peak, I knew this final climb was going to be the most heinous of the day.

Carl was hurting and walked a bit. Then another rider was not far off. Soon I saw a couple heads and then three and four and their full bodies came into view with about eight people clapping. I could not believe I got tenth! Woohooo. To land in that class was once in a lifetime! The first thing I did when I got home was read Rick Hunter’s article in Bike Mag about his 2500 mile race across the great divide.