The Homegrown Cyclocross Series combines the low key, local race feel with the competition of some larger races.  Conveniently located at Woodward Park in Fresno; field sizes are large enough to ensure ample amounts of pain and suffering throughout the race as you battle other competitors.

    I was racing single speed for this first race of the series.  I had done some work to my bike earlier in the week and was lacking the 18 tooth cog that I knew I would need.  Instead, the 16 tooth cog that I did have, ensured there would be plenty of low cadence grinding throughout the race.

    There were 11 racers in the single speed field.  We were racing for 30 minutes and would start just before the men’s C field.  From the start I hung in the back, not concerned about the holeshot.  The course is very conducive to single speeds with plenty of opportunities to pass, lots of flowy parts, and a few short climbs that you can blast up.

    Throughout the first lap I picked my way through the field.  At the start of the second lap I passed the two leaders and got a gap.  The start/finish area, which is flat and smooth, is just about the only place on the course that my “way too tall” gearing would allow me to get a good fast cadence.  I clearly had the best top speed possibilities out of the field.  I think for next race a 39×18 will be just about perfect.

    A few laps later I started lapping some of the riders from the C field.  But again, because of the layout of the course, this wasn’t any trouble.  After four laps of racing, and a little over 30 minutes, I soloed to victory with no one else in sight.  At the awards I picked up my custom pint glass and later made the trek back home.  Overall, a great day of racing and hanging out with friends and fellow racers.  I will certainly be back for next week’s race on 11/1/09.  Perhaps I’ll try racing my Singlecross in the A class as well.

    I took tons of photos during the day of the B and A race.  Pictured are DuBurg and Rappo duking it out through the barriers.

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Always drink your whiskey with your gun hand, to show your friendly intentions.

The Whiskeytown Classic is another of my all time favorite races. The race takes place just outside of a historic miner & cowboy town. Much of the race takes place over antique flumes that were dug during the gold rush. One cannot experience the rich history of Whiskeytown and not feel connection to the days of old when the land was populated by prospectors and cowpokes. Having, just returned from the race I feel a hankering to use some cowboy speak while giving my report.

“Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.”

Chris and I eagerly planned our last minute trip to the race. At some point, I should have come to my senses and backed out after reading the weather forecast with 100+ temperatures. However, my enthusiasm outweighed my concerns as we made arrangements to participate in the race. The lengthy drive passed by quickly as Chris and I discussed the upcoming cyclocross season as well as other off season MTB races. Finding camaraderie and friendship is the best part about Tri-sport racing and MTB racing in general.

The race started at 10:00 sharp. And I was “grinnin like a weasel in a hen house”. The temperatures were all ready in the upper eighties. The race promoters were concerned with the heat and decided to make some last minute changes to course. This is where things start to fall apart. An announcement was made that “Buck Hollow” would only be part of the 1^st lap for the Cat 1’s and the 2^nd and 3^rd would skip this section. Remember this, it will be important later.

Unlike Team Big Bear races all of the racers are lumped together in a mass start and there is no way to identify who you are competing against. No leg markings.  I believe that “If you follow behind the lead cow, you will step in the mess he leaves behind” and always go for broke at the start in an attempt to get the hole shot into the single track. I attacked the group in a feign show of strength and to my surprise Chris not only responded but counterattacked and took the lead going into the single track. As we entered the single track the dust and heat were unbearable. “You can’t tell how good a man or a watermelon is ’till they get thumped.” Well I can tell you that I was severely getting thumped during the first several miles. But there’s no place “round the campfire for a quitter’s blanket” so I rallied my determination and settled into a manageable pace. “When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.”

I consider false flats and rollers to be my forte. I’m a tad on the heavy side which hampers me on the big climbs and bit squeamish on the downhill, but I can make up for on the flatter stuff. “The only substitute for good manners is fast reflexes.” As we entered the flume sections of the race I was pulling back riders left and right. It felt almost dream like, I was floating around the turns and passing riders as if they were motionless.  I felt certain that I stood to have a podium finish if I could maintain the pace.

As I completed lap one, I encountered two women. One was blocking the course and the other gestured for me to turn left and bypass Buck Hollow. Remembering the race director canceled it for the Cat 1’s but not indicating if this was in place for Cat 2. I asked the lady if she was sure we turn here? She replied yes. Not giving it any further thought I pressed on and felt I was gaining on the leaders and more importantly taking a bite out Chris’s lead on me.

The second lap is a blur. I felt both hot and cold. The heat was so hot I was getting goosebumps, tunnel vision and the occasional shiver. Yet still I felt the second lap was mine for the taking and my performance was improving second by second.  I crossed the finish line in just under two hours. I recovered and then impatiently looked for Chris. But something was wrong, he was nowhere to be found. Not only that the results indicated I was 3^rd overall for Cat 2s. There was no way this was correct, I knew at least 5 riders had dropped me.  I approached the race director and asked if we were supposed to skip Buck Hollow on lap two. Long story short, I was told that two spectators were telling the racers to turn left when in fact they were supposed to go straight. Even with the mix up it was a great race. I told the race staff to mark me DNF. I guess I’ll have to wait until next year to see how I stack up against Chris.

So until next year at Whiskeytown…”Never follow good whiskey with water, unless you’re out of good whiskey.”

Gary-GLOCK

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The Kenda Cup has injected a large infusion of enthusiasm and interest in the Sothern California XC racing scene. The competition and numbers of racers increased dramatically this year. I’ve greatly enjoyed chasing points this year in my quest for the Kenda Cup. I had a very strong first have of the series which started to fall apart midpoint at Firestone. I had cracked my Gary Fisher early in the year and started racing reliable Specialized bikes with excellent outcomes. Then for some reason, perhaps nostalgia, I decided to race my freshly warranted Fisher Paragon at Firestone. Halfway into the race, I had broken my bike and was lucky enough to patch it together long enough to finish DFL. After that my season started to turn sour. After a disappointing late season, I somehow was able to have enough points to be in contention for a top finish at the unification race. Not wanting to jinx my race, I considered racing my trusty Stumpjumper. However, I was still reeling from the smackdown Chris had handed me at Howell Mountain and wanted to try out my Epic recently purchased from JP. I had ridden the epic 5 or 6 times without incident and felt confident racing it. JP had recommended I bled the front brake, but as it was working great I put it off.

Racing at Bonelli and Fontana is great for me as gives me opportunity to visit with my family living in Diamond Bar. The only hazard is sometimes I tend to eat or drink too much the night before while visiting with family. I had resolved not to over indulge and ate dinner before arriving so as to have an excuse to resist my uncles world class cooking. Like so many things in my life, my plan horribly back fired. By the time I arrived, my stomach had almost completed digesting dinner and was relatively empty.  I walk through the door and was greeted with “It’s Heineken night” by my uncle. I was surprised by the words “No, thanks I’ve got a race tomorrow” as they escaped my mouth.  It’s a well known fact that Heineken is my favorite beer, not counting Firestone, and I’m powerless against it. Within a few moments I had cracked one open, promising myself to only have one…

The race started at 10:00. It was hot, dusty and I was hung over. The race started with a rush to the first hill. I was holding the leaders by a few feet. It was important to stay near the front as the dust was pea soup thick. I managed to make it to the first crest of the major climb in relatively good position. But then the race started to unravel. The brakes I had neglected to bleed had serious fading on the downhill, so bad I lost control and almost went over the edge of a switch back. Having the willies and afraid to bomb the downhill I lost considerable time. I was determined to recover the time on the next big climb and attempt to pump my brakes on next downhill. The next major climb went great. I was standing up at times hammering it, pulling back at least 10 riders before the summit.  As I reached to top, a wave of nausea hit me and I vomited up my Starbucks spinach feta cheese wrap. Taking a moment to recover I determined to finish the race. The vomiting to my surprise made me feel significantly better. It must have been the combination of skunky Heineken and the feta wrap holding me back. I quickly learned to pump the brakes to prevent the fading and managed to finish the race. I finished in 3rd and managed to win the points series by one point. The folks at Team BigBear were great at the award ceremony. I was awarded a unification jersey and bottle of Stone Brewing Co Pale Ale. Until next year, I can’t wait for the return of the Kenda Cup and another race at Bonelli.

Gary- GLOCK

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I swear I never got tired of some of the singletrack.

12 laps
91 miles
15,600 ft of climbing
11 hours 23 minutes
1/2 can of bag balm
Pound of turkey
11 Water bottles
3 FRS
2 Cokes
8 advills
First place sport
Fourth Solo Overall (pro, expert, sport, master…)

For years I have been trying to put together a team to do an endurance event. This year I swore I would do it myself if I had to. Well the year kept moving and things came up, but I did it. I pre-registered SOLO SPORT for 12 Hours of Humboldt. Once I paid the money, I knew Stephanie, my Wife,  wouldn’t let me back out and waste the money.

I must say it felt good to do it. I was on the high all the way up to the last two weeks when I discovered the endurance section of MTBR forums. I started reading the stuff, nutrition, saddle sores and it all started to seem real. WTF can I do now?

I figured showing up and doing anything was more than most expected. It was an 8 mile loop. Heck I could do 3 laps and call it an XC race. I’ve driven farther for that. But I looked at the times and decided I needed 13 laps if I was to win it.

I couldn’t grasp the concept of what I was doing yet, maybe for the better. All I know is XC racing. and there was a completely different vibe in the air. No one was in a hurry. I was trying to get down to race weight and get all my stuff ready. But everyone else seemed to be chilled out and then the thing started.

We set up a sweet base camp. Two bikes, food, drink, medicine, extra kits. I was ready for anything I hope.

even the climbs were pretty and tough.

LAP ONE

First lap, I was XC racer. I attacked the climbs and worked my way through the group. I was sitting with the team groups. I didn’t think to slow down. It is a race right?

LAP TWO

On the start of the second lap just before the finish of the first climb I learned about endurance racers. I broke my chain. Not one racer offered to help. Not one, but ALL offered to help. I had to shoo them away so I could fix it. It was weird. I’ve been on less friendly group rides. I fumbled with that chain while my water pours out of my only bottle and then I start riding to realize that my chain is run through my derailure wrong and I have to start over. Luckily I have 11+ hours to catch back on. But it seems that everyone passed me. So now I turn it up. I know the guy who I am racing and I am looking for him. I don’t see him on lap two.

I'm looking for this guy. #12 and he is riding a Motobecane. I can't lose to a guy riding a French bike. I have to catch him.

LAP THREE

I read the timing sheet for the first time. I’m 4 minutes back off of first place after two laps. I ride straight trough camp and only get a water bottle change. It’s on now. I pushed this lap, but about 1/3 into the lap I see him.

Turns out he is riding with a guy I was talking to when I broke my chain. Both of them were at the first Big Sandy.

I start cranking. and he is riding with a guy I started talking to (Craig) on lap 2 before I broke my chain. We were racing through the first lap each of us pushing the other’s pace.  I just pass. And I turn it on. I hurt my neck from looking back so much. By the end of this lap I have 15 minutes on #12.

LAP 4

I’m feeling it now. I’m still a little high from making up time, decide to lube the chain and the chamois. And in rolls Craig. All along he pulls the hills and I pull away on the singletrack. I gap, he pulls in. I’m eating some turkey and there he is.

LAP 5 -7

This was the time where we are approaching the 6 hour mark. I want to get 7 laps in before the midpoint so I can relax. It’s starting to strain me. Craig is telling me to pull back, I’m thinking he wants his teammate to catch me. I’v got a 45 min lead on him at this point. We stay together at this point. Its all a little blurry, Back pain, cramps, chaffing, wrists. I’ve learned to relax my back on the climbs, its a great way to be refreshed for the singletrack and fireroad descents. I finish lap 7 at 2:14pm, so 14 laps is out, but on track for 13.

Each time gets a little harder

LAP 8-10

Not my finest hour. The guy in second breaks two bikes by now and is sitting in camp in jeans. the next guy is 55 min back. Stephanie tells me to sit down. I don’t want to give up time, just sitting there and I take off again. It gets cold now. I’ve been in a vest all day, but decide to where a jacket. Oh and I talked my self out of 13 along the way. Now I was just waiting out the clock.

I can't eat now. I'm taking everything liquid now. The Cokes are the only thing I enjoy. The Hammer Gels are too thick. I am actually winning, the only thing keeping me going now. The timing is confusing, and I'm getting it second hand, But I've got four camps cheering for me.

It was colder all day than I have been in months.

Craig is way off the back of me now. I don’t even see him on lap 10 when I leave. But at the top of the climb he comes up. Seems he is in second place in the Open Masters group. He thought about 5th all day. Well this lights a fire in his belly and he is gone, I try to hold on but the singletrack climb did me in and he fades away mid lap. I think lap 9 and 10 were over an hour each. It was not good.

There were three singletrack sections that were fun every time.

LAPS 11 & 12

Somehow knowing that the end was near made it better, plus the second place guy was now only 25 minutes back. He is gaining. All my victory speeches I wrote on the trail would be worthless. I would like to say I turned it on, but I really just pushed harder on #11.

My last lap was special, I thanked all the course marshalls, said good reddens to the hills as I crested them,  but the section of singletrack in the back I’ll miss. No matter the pain it was hella fun to ride. I said goodbye to that one. and pulled in the Super-Master dude on the top of the last hill and rode in to fourth fastest solo of the day and first in Sport. My lead widdled  down to 10 min.

My final lap heading into the finish.

Some notable guys

Rode a unicycle for 8 laps. Coolest dude out there.

He was on bike tour across California and rode in, finishing a few minutes behind me taking 3rd in Master.

A link to some of the photos from the day

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Howell (HELL) Mountain Challenge or (Hot as Hell Mountain Challenge)

Hot, hot and hotter

The folks at PUC put on a first class race in Angwin. It ranks among my favorite races in the state as it offers a rollercoaster ride on tight single track through mixed conifer and oak forest. The competition is off the hook and always tests riders across the ability spectrum. 2009 promised to favor the Valley Boys from Fresno as the heat was forecasted to reach triple digits. Thinking that our acclimation to hot weather riding would improvement Fresno racers odds over the temperate weather bay area racers I was hopeful to improve my ranking from the cooler races at Howell Mountain.

The race started with a breakneck sprint up a 300 yard road climb followed by moderate single track and fire road climbs for the next mile. Immediately, I was cracking from the heat and humidity. I was grateful I to have elected to bring a 2 liter camelback along with a 16 ounce water bottle. My group of 10 quickly tapered down to a breakaway of 4. I was hanging on to third when we hit the wall. The wall is literally a fire road wall approaching at a least 25% grade. I attempted to run up the wall, but rapidly lost my momentum as struggled to stay upright. The lead breakaway of 4 stayed close together as we entered the forest single track. The conditions were so dry the dust from the prior wave of races created a “fog” of dust. It was difficult to see more than 10 feet ahead.

We hurriedly raced up and down the twisty course and began to encounter the rear echelon of the group which had started 5 min ahead of us. Our breakaway group had dwindled to 3. I was hanging on to the 2^nd place riders wheel gasping for air as we watched the lead rider disappear from our sight when suddenly and without any apparent reason a rider from another group slammed his breaks on. A 3 rider pile up quickly ensued as I heard the sound of carbon fiber (or bones) cracking. After a quick check to make sure everyone was ok and apologies were exchanged, the race was again afoot. Perhaps it was the pain from my swollen wrist and knee after the crash or just simply embarrassment from the crash but I somehow I had renewed energy. I rapidly pulled back the 2^nd place rider and regained ground on the leader.

As the race progressed, I maintained my position and suffered through the heat. The heat was unbelievable. On the second lap the course was strewn with overheated riders who abandoned the race. I counted 4 fire trucks and ambulances. Only half way through the 2^nd lap my camelback ran dry. As I neared the final climb I was seriously contemplating quitting. But then the thought of Chris not only beating me but finishing a race I was too weak to complete encouraged me to rally on. On the final climb I gave the remaining drops in my bottle to a single speeder who looked to be on the verge of heat exhaustion. I thought to myself, I’m from FRESNO damn it; I can finish the race in any heat. Filled with a sense of righteous indignation for the heat I revived my remaining strength and not only finished the race but was able to clear the 3 death rollers at the end (Most have to walk them). In the end, I was very happy with my performance. Although the race nearly put me in a heat coma, I look back now with fond memories and a strong sense of accomplishment.  GLOCK

Quick shout out to Chris: Way to kick my butt!!!! You rock, imagine how well you would have done with more than a bottle and half of water. (Chris’s water/feed zone plans did not work as planned and he did the race on only one and half bottles of water!!!!)

Be sure to visit Tri-Sport for all your cycling needs.

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Rim Nordic #3 was to be my return to racing after a full two months of rest and relaxation.  Well not really, between Big Bear in early June, and now, I had changed careers, relocated, dealt with a nagging knee injury, and moved back in with my parents; fun stuff!!

Anyway, the weather was good.  I had camped up there the night before, so early in the morning I took a practice lap.  The lap felt good, my skills hadn’t diminished too much, but I knew I would be slow.  From the starting gun I got the holeshot and led all the way up to the long fire road stretch.  Upon hitting the fire road I popped like a balloon.  Two jr. riders, who were on my tail, dropped me like I was hot.  I was sucking for air like a fish out of water.  My legs felt dead.  I would say with some certainty that, yes, in fact, my fitness has gone down since earlier this year.

Instead of jamming through all the short climbs and flat sections, like I think I used to, I was instead defeated by them.  I used my granny gear a lot.  Barely getting over the top of every climb it seemed like.  Still it was fun.  I got a good bottle handoff from my imaginary girlfriend Jenn, it was good to be racing again.  Good to suffer.  My back was aching, my wrists hurt, my lungs burned.  On lap 3 of 3 I got a flat tire, which seemed to fit in nicely with my performance so far that day.  I managed to finish the race eventually.  But I did not stick around for the results.  I am amazed at the difference that steady, routine training for intensity can make.  I felt like a whole different, slower, person today.

The turnout at Rim Nordic was noticeably smaller than last year, maybe half as big.  No doubt the economy has played a role.  It is depressing to see such well run events wither in light of such circumstances.  I look forward to mountain bike racing next year, but now my focus will be on the upcoming cyclocross season.

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Well. I would love to say that I represented mountain bike racers well and showed those roadies what is up, but there is a reality. 

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I love local racing and I work pretty hard myself to make sure we have some, so when the local road team reorganized and decided to put on a new event, which by the way used to be scheduled the same day of the Big Sandy Race and they moved it, I knew I should at least sign up. I went back and forth about racing it, and I ended up signing up for an extra class once I saw the course. It was pretty short and fast and I figured I had better race more classes if I want more than a ten minute race. 

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It was a nice morning, a little warm but no wind. I warmed up, talked to a bunch of people and then they were lining up. I sat in the back, since I have only raced one crit before and I haven’t been on my road bike much all spring, too much great mountain biking, We all left pretty easy. Oh good it would be okay. Well into the second corner the pace picked up. I sat on the back still trying to figure out what was going on in the corners, but that was a big mistake. I suffered back there, the pack surged and I would lose my draft, then fight to catch up and then lose my draft. Over and over for ten minutes before I was off the back. I spent ten more minutes fighting alone without anyone in sight. Were were the leaders, they should lap me soon? I did want to keep the workout going, so I stayed at the fastest I could maintain. The pack finally brought me in and I was done. Thank god. I was ready to be done. 

This had me more than a little concerned about my next race. it was 40 minutes, but I was determined to stay in the pack as long as possible, plus no one expected anything from me now. I was the idiot riding alone. So I warmed up, I borrowed a trainer, but that was just a sweaty experience, why would they do that? So I rode around until it was time. This time I moved to mid-pack for the start and forced my way into the group. If I can follow a wheel down a rutted rocky course, I can hold a line in an industrial park. So I sat there about twenty people in. I recovered when the pack slowed and I attacked out of every corner, gaining and losing position, but holding. At one point the pack splintered, and the guy in front of me decided to catch the first group of ten. I jumped on his wheel, thinking well I can recover when we regroup, well he fell off about half way there, leaving me in front of what turned out to be the entire back pack, and they wouldn’t let me drop. So I sat there suffering for two laps before I finally lost enough speed for someone else to decide to pull. We pulled them in, I was able to recover and it was back to racing. 

There were a couple of loose cannons out there, taking odd lines and people yelling at each other, but it was a pretty good group overall and some light conversation, which was welcome as roadies are dead serious. There were way too many premes. Every time they rang that stupid bell, I knew it was going to hurt. It was like a joke near the end. Out of the last seven laps there must have been 4 or 5 premes. I was sitting in the top ten for the last few laps and let me say it was like being upgraded midflight from coach to first class. Way smoother racers, more room in the corners. but then that final lap bell went off, my legs cramped like a pavlovian response to the preme bells and the guys actually started racing. I was just happy to finish, about 30 minutes in Fernie says we only have 10 minutes and I was happy to still be there. So I was sitting with O’Roarke and Victor rounding corner three onto Ingram, and going into the final corner, O’Roarke was in front and Victor on the outside when he anda guy in a cvc (white) kit when down hard. Someone yelled ” don’t look at it” and we rolled into the finish. I was looking at it, the cvc guy endoed and rolled like two times before stopping. I heard Victor broke his collarbone but not sure if that is true. 

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I was happy to finish, hung out and talked to a few people, then realized there must be results. They were listed by numbers and I had to look up my number but I got 20th (the last place they even recorded) so I was happy. I am looking forward to getting to Big Bear next week, Syd already confirmed. so John we will see you Saturday.

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Rick R's photos

Chris and I carpooled to Salinas leaving Fresno at 0600. The drive to the race was uneventful and gave us both plenty of time to get our game faces on. We arrived with plenty of time to spare and took the opportunity to pre-ride to Torro Park course. The race at Torro Park has two conditions: Climbing and Downhilling. There is no flat sections on the course, hard to believe until you race it. I’m glad we were able to pre-ride the course, I think it helped my on the downhill. The course was perfect from the rain the night before. Crisp and tacky single track downhill and dust free fire road climb. Oh I almost forgot, on lap 2-4 the promoters added a new section of single track to climb. Perhaps a mile long, with thick green oaks to provide shade on the climb. It is a welcome change, even has a foot bridge to cross and few rocky steps to run up. Nice changes CCCX.

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I had suffered a broken chain on my 29er hard tail at Firestone and remain reluctant to race anything Gary Fisher after my seemly endless cycle of Gary Fissure occurrences at races. I ended up choosing to race my trusty StumpJumper. The bike performed flawlessly: climbed like humming bird and downhilled like a bee. Err something like that at least.

Chris and I both raced sport. The bay area riders and highway 68 hillbillies are fast. The race started with a road sprint which tore apart the peloton. I tried to hang on, but was quickly dropped. My main goal was to give up as little as possible on climb and steal back as much time on my competitors on the downhill. For the most part my plan worked. On each of the four laps I was able to pull back anywhere from 1 to 4 riders on the downhill. I even managed to pull back 2 others on the 4^th climb. At the end of the race I found myself in 5^th place. Not quite a podium spot, but certainly not DFL.  Chris placed 4^th in his larger category, Strong work!

CCCX always puts on a great races. The costs are low and competition is high. No USA cycling licenses required. Be sure to make it to at least one race this year. The races at Torro park suit both hard tails and FS. However, the Fort Ord races favor a hard tail with the rolling sandy hills.  

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Get out there and ride your bikes.

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The race started fast, too fast for a 3 hour race in the hot sun.  The day was very warm and cloudless; unusual for Monterey.  I knew from my days of riding double centuries that the heat would play a big role.  I was reluctant to go too fast at the start, others were not, thus, I was relegated to the middle of the pack.

On the first fun twisty decent I got stuck behind a couple slow pokes, and then continued to be stuck behind them for the entire length of the singletrack climb, that followed immediately afterward.  However, these fellows were soon dropped.  The day consisted of catching and passing other racers who had gone out too hard.  Each time a new person was spotted my motivation would surge, I would pass, and then press on for the next victim.

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Passed my teammate Syd around the middle of the first lap, he may have been having an off day.  Because Sea Otter is such a big course, with tons of competition, and no leg markings, I could never tell who was in my age category.  However, nearing the end of the first lap I spotted the jersey of Eli Woody, way off in the distance.  I knew if I could catch him, I would be sitting pretty.

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Starting the second lap I was feeling good.  Got my bottles from Syd’s little bro, and I was all set to jet for the second lap.  Things were more spread out now, other racers were few and far between, and at times I had to fight off feelings of loneliness.  A couple guys from an older age group passed me; however, I eventually caught and passed one of them.  Around the middle of the second lap I caught up with Eli in his blue and white Giant kit.  I was all set for an epic battle, but he merely faded back on one of the open dirt road climbs.

Sea Otter never fails to completely exhaust a racer.  At the onset of the race I felt that I may have been going too easy. 

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Now, a few miles from the finish, the rolling dirt road climbs were beating me up.  The heat was intolerable and my left hamstring began to cramp; it was hell.  I caught a few more riders on this loathsome stretch of race course, no doubt the heat was getting to them too.  Then, at the top of the last significant climb, I spotted Root and the Fresno crew.  With an extra burst of energy I passed a singlespeeder, swooped down the singletrack, popped back on to the race course and jammed through the finish.  My effort succeeded in severely cramping both hamstrings, so much so that I couldn’t walk for a few minutes, it was great.

I finished fourth place out of 31 finishers and was about 9 minutes faster than last year.  Totally happy with this result, and once again I got to stand on that podium stage at one of the biggest, if not the biggest race in the country. edinburgh uk news viagra site search

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*****John Parson Update****** 

John does Tri-Sport proud by placing 4th at Sea otter Cat 1 @  02:47:08- You ROCK John!!!

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 Never again will I sleep/camp at Sea Otter. Last year Vik and I camped in a tent during a gale force wind storm right next to 20 kids drinking for the first time. Needless to say I think I slept  a total of two hours. On top of that, I was late to the start line and missed my heat by two to three minutes. This year I was going to wake up early and drive down around 430 in the morning. I honestly believe a good nights sleep is just as important as training. Whenever I race with less than six hours sleep my legs immediately as though they are on fire and my lungs clamp up. While enough of that, let me get back to my race report. On second thought, I forgot to mention that more things change the more they stay the same. ( I ended up with only 4 hours of sleep this year!!!!!)

  Oh my god it’s four in the morning already!  Forget I’m going back to sleep  I will race Sea Otter 2010, more sleep is more important I thought as I turned off my alarm clock. 4:15 am, my second alarm goes off. Why do have to be so thorough in my planning and set a second alarm clock? Oh well, you might as well get up and get on the road I thought to myself.

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Sea Otter was blanketed in fog as I arrived. It was quite cold but refreshing and added an air of mystery as I registered and warmed up. With more than 45 minutes to spare I decided to check out the staging area and discovered that all races had been delayed 30 minutes. I took advantage of this time and road in a lap around the circuit race course for the roadies. They had part of the roadie course blocked off with a metal fence so that the mountain bikers would not miss their first left-hand turn onto the singletrack. Unfortunately for several roadies the fence is located at the bottom of a steep downhill corner. The fog was so thick you could not see the fence until you were several feet away. As I was waiting to watch Nick and Chris start their heats several roadies came flying down the hill and crashed into the fence or endoed  right in front of it at breakneck speeds. It was a horrible sight to see fortunately no one was seriously injured except for their pride.

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So I lined up for the race with about 30 other Clydesdales all of which were lean and strong. No fat boys just humongous 200 pounds plus muscle heads.  I felt very intimidated and was sure I would be dropped right off the bat. Oh I forgot to mention the GT golden cheerleaders were mixing it up in the start line. Kudos to GT, it was really fun and exciting to have the cheerleaders taunting\harassing us. Keep it up GT!

Sure enough right off the bat it was as if I was racing against Tom Boonen, Eric Zabel and Thor Hoshovd. Man oh man could those guys sprint! Our pack of big boys was moving at least mach 2. I was big ringing it in my small cogs in the rear, trying to hang on for life. By the time we reached the first left-hand turn onto the dirt I was totally redlined. A group of at least 15 riders dropped is hard. Don’t forget it still foggy at this point so someone gets 15 to 20 feet away from your they might as well be miles away because you can’t see them. I went for broke on the slight fire road climb before the first down and was able to hold my position. The first downhill we bombed like banshees as we rode by braille in the fog. It was quite an experience, bombing a fire road at 30 MPH + in the pea soup fog as your eyes teared up into blindness from the fog, cold and speed! 

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The rest the race is a blur of high-speed single track filled with elbow to elbow battles for position. Sea Otter never fails to disappoint in the level of competition and excitement out there on the race course. I managed to pull back several of my competitors and did not give up any positions once we hit the dirt. It was at lightning sprint on the asphalt that cost me any places.  I managed to cross the finish line and just under one hour 30 minutes. The Sea Otter promoters did an excellent job with the water and feed stations. They were handing out filled bottles of either water or sports drink at the midway point. I wish you would have known this as I would not have carried the extra water bottles. At the end of day I finished fifth and had a great time chilling with the Doobies at the expo. Be sure to try the teriyaki chicken skewer, yum!

Patrick and Dave showed up in Fresno. Together with team Tri-Sport members Chris, Nick and myself we all had similar times of approximately one hour 30 minutes. Chris DuBurg is Cat 2 King of the Valley with speedy time of 1:37! You DA Man Chris! 

Well that is it for today. See you all at Santa Ynez(Firestone)! Please support the BEST bike shop in Fresno! Tri-Sport!!!!!

GLOCK OUT

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