A Peach of a Weekend...

[Photo by Mark Shimahara]

Killer photo, huh? But let's keep it chronological and start with saturday's deathmarch...

I said it before, I'm saying it again: "Most stacked non-NRC road race in USA cycling history." And the story begins with the "staging area". There were about 80 or so sheep in the staging area for the Pro 1/2 race. USCF officials were pacing up and down the long line of riders, barking orders. I had my number neatly and tightly folded up. You could clearly see the number, but I didn't want confrontation (and subsequent unpinning/repinning of the number), so I hung out on the side, with some of the Health net guys, who ALL had their numbers neatly folded (and still clearly visible). The race started, and we just rolled in without bother. I only mention all this because the whole "let's give the riders a hard time for folding their numbers" game is just a ridiculous waste of time and energy.

Somewhere on this jersey, there are 2 numbers...can you spot them?

Okay. So the race was billed as "hardest race ever" by fellow racers. What people don't realize is that it's only going to be hard for as long as you maintain contact with the lead group. Once you're dropped, it's the same as any other race in which you get dropped, you follow? Right. So the pro teams came out, full force. Buses, soigneurs, giant caravans, mechanics, tents, the whole bit -all for a local road race in the middle of nowhere with a meager (for them) $2000 purse. The ratio of racers to spectators was something like 100:1. Really cool to ride with all those chaps...reminded me of Gila last year...the "pro-ness" of it all. I got to hang out with my old collegiate teammate, Taylor Tolleson, shared some stories, laughs...also said hi to Mr. Menzies, who said "...it's gonna be a smashfest today, huh?" in his fresh-off-the-boat (and synonymous with -fast-) Australian accent.

Chasing back on after a flat...but the spare wheel had an 11, so it worked out
[photo UCSD]

The pros did their thing in the early going, and once a break got established, the pace really slowed, and it was comfortable. From that point on, attrition made the race. The break's gap came down (maxed at 3 minutes), and the field shrunk and shrunk. I struggled each lap on the downhill section...a 53x12 just wasn't cutting it. I eventually got dropped on the 3rd (of 4) lap. Gah. The group just blasted through a long flat straight, it echeloned and I was in the wrong end. I also flatted, gut-rotted, but "sucked" is the verb of choice here. I've no excuses, the legs just weren't there. I rolled in for 46th on the day, close to the last classified finisher. Teammate Chris Walker finished 14th (1st Amateur). Mr. Tolleson was in the early break and i'm pretty sure he was just doing one-leg intervals the whole day.

That guy in last wheel? Such an amateur...
[photo from UCSD something? Thanks Rich]

Which brings sunday. There were two races on the schedule. Red Trolley in San Diego, or the Mothballs Crit in Santa Barbara. The Time Factory Team is based in Santa Barbara, so it was the natural choice for us. We fielded a solid 4 guys at the start. Conspicuously absent were all the pro teams from the previous day (they were at Red Trolley), but there were some solid California guys out, and the purse for both was similar. I'm certain some guys (**cough-o'reilly-cough**) skipped Boulevard and set out to destroy the guys who'd raced the previous day...but that's cool, the dude abides...

Wasn't a huge field. 60? 70? Nowhere near the 125 from last weekend. Last week's winner was at the start, some classic old-guys (Thurlow, etc) mixed with some Nor-Cal dudes, and some glorious SB weather. The course is pretty basic. 4 turns, some sketch pavement, some smooth, 1000% flat, yeah. Allow a quick tangent....

Way back in '02...this same exact race was my 2nd race ever. Cat 4/5. I came into it cocky and confident, and wound up crashing in the sprint (likely for 28th place or something dumb), getting a concussion, dislocating my shoulder, and momentarily walking around with my junk hanging out of my [borrowed from Marcelo] shorts. Crazy to be back in a slightly different scenario and mindset. Anyhow...let's get back...

We all met before the race. I volunteered to "captain" the thing, call shots, etc. We all just decided to keep it textbook, and use the numbers to our advantage. 100 meters after the start, some guys rocket away, right in front of me. I wanted nothing to do with it, and even yelled at them for being so foolish. They kept motoring, and 3/4ths of a lap later, teammate Nick started a bridging effort. He got there after a lap or two. I was left at the front of the pack, ready to mark anything that moved. Right away, this guy darts out. I marked it, and with only 1 other guy for company. 3 of us. I told them I wasn't working (as Nick was up the road). They understood, and the guy in first wheel chased and chased for almost 3 full laps, and brought us to the break. A nice tow. and what? We have a gap? Aww geez. The breakaway game isn't what I had in mind, but it was me and a teammate in an 8 man move. Good odds. The cohesion was terrible at first, but eventually we settled into a nice rhythm and time gaps grew. [Some petty race advice: When you're in a breakaway, and rotate out of a paceline, get AS CLOSE to the advancing line as you can, both for your benefit and the guys about to pull through. Learned this from Paolinetti during our rose bowl battles...the guy practically drives his elbows into you after pulling through...and it works].

Smilin'
[Photo: Marco]

After what seemed like forever (an hour, almost), we lapped the field. There was a group of 7 riders (w/Thurlow, O'Reilly, etc) a good 30 ticks up the road. C-Walk (term coined by Tay Tolleson for Chris Walker) put the hammer down and closed that thing down almost by himself. Stellar. So when the gap came down to about 10-15 seconds, and while making sure Chris saw me, I attacked in an effort to bridge. Got a gap, solo, and bridged it in one lap. That felt good, won't lie. The move got brought back, but hopefully it pulled a match or two from the 6 other breakaway guys. The rest of the race was wild. Lots and lots of calories were incinerated. I decided to completely bury myself in order to have Nick (who also lapped) rest up for the sprint. Attack, attack, attack, and I looked back each time to find the other breakaway chaps chasing it down. Teamwork....I'd missed it for so long, and here it was, in large doses. with about 10 laps to go, I stopped the insanity with hopes of delivering a proper leadout. 5 to go, 4, 3, 2...Nick is on my wheel, we're in the sweet-spot about 10 wheels deep. Bell lap, he's still there. Then after turn one, I did role-call...no response. Tried again..."Nick?! you on?!". Nothing. Incredibly, the legs were allright. Was pretty far back out of the last corner, but it's a good 400 meters from there. I kicked down a couple gears, and started the gallop. I was almost boxed in (my own fault), but kindly (well, as kindly as is possible in the middle of a sprint) asked the lagrange guy boxing me in "umm..guy? I'm up a lap, can you please let me through?". Surprisingly, he did. And with that door open, I won it. I was 3rd in the field sprint, and ahead of the other breakaway guys. Not the flashiest way to win (shoulda won the field sprint, but......), but after a quick calculation at the line, put up a little salute.

How massive is that guy to my right?
[Photo: Marco, Again...thanks, man]

Vittoria
[photo: Steve Weixel]

So all in all, a peach of a weekend. Rough Saturday, tactically beautiful Sunday. We finished 1st, 3rd (Nick), and 10th (C-Walk). Walker gets the MVP award, without a doubt. A big thanks to all the photographers (and those who linked me to the photogs) for making this a pretty colorful blog entry.

And of course, these guys:

(L-R) C-Walk, Me, Nick H-H, Mike Easter
[Steve Weixel...lots more fotos here]

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