Boulevard/Red Trolley 2007

Well, after what seems like forever, the 2007 race season has begun! Caltech had a great showing at the first Collegiate race weekend, held in Boulevard and San Diego, with 6 riders spread through 4 categories (men’s and women’s!). We originally had eight racers, but two were, unfortunately, sick and decided not to race. This has to be one of the best turn-out’s in history for Caltech Cycling! We have very enthusiastic riders this year, and are looking forward to a great season. Below are race reports from the first weekend. Enjoy, and look for more in the coming weeks!

-John

Men’s C Road Race – by Garrett Drayna

UCSD Boulevard Race 2007-My first bike race.

I was pretty antsy all of Friday afternoon and I could barley finish my chem set. I went to track practice feeling pretty good, and ran like it was the day before a track race, which, in essence it was. I had dinner quickly and packed up everything I could think of. I would be spending only one night, but I had somehow managed to be bringing three bags with me, 2 of which I never ended up touching. At 6:45 I rolled out to Holliston and San Pasqual to find not one person there. I waited for 10 minutes, called Ian just to check where we were meeting, only to find he wasn’t racing and didn’t know what was going on. But to my relief Katherine pulled up, and then Will showed up, and then Peter and Alec. By now we had a sizeable group and I was more at ease. I put my stuff in Katherine’s car and we made a short trip to John’ house. I don’t think anything really happened there, and we had left in 5 minutes for Boulevard.
As we were heading out of Pasadena, Katherine was giving race advice to me. “Things move a lot faster in a race, you have to be on top of things, really paying attention,” she advised. “If you ever hear anything, a crash, don’t look back whatever you do, just keep on going.” I could tell she was pretty nervous. She explained how this was her first collegiate race and she had been in some pretty tough UCSF races where she got dropped before. Seeing as I kept her pretty distracted, we missed the turnoff for I-5 and it took us 10 minutes of pretty sketchy driving through ghettofied side-streets to get back on the 5. After we were set on our drive down, I dozed off for a bit and re-woke a few times along the way. When we got to San Diego and turned off into the desert, I was wide awake. As we headed east, the terrain was like nothing I had ever seen. We climbed up to a high plateau at about 4000 feet. There were lots of small but sharp peaks poking out of the rolling landscape, like waves on the surface of the sea. Everything was lit up; a pale blue under the nearly full moon. Every so often we would see border patrol scanning south with infrared cameras. We finally arrived in Jacumba Springs at about 11 pm. It was freezing cold, maybe 20-25 degrees. We all went to our rooms, briefly detailed our plans for tomorrow, and went to bed. The rooms were old but comfortable and the heater was on full blast.

The next thing I know my cell phone alarm is going off. Its pitch dark outside, freezing cold, and I am going somewhere very unfamiliar were I am going to go to suffer. I had this intense feeling of not wanting to step outside our motel room. But before any of this could stop me, I was already out the door and driving to the race, eating my paltry and seemingly unpalatable breakfast of 2 toffee scones. We got to the race and there were trailers and bikes everywhere. Large squads of people dressed in uniforms almost as hot as ours were warming up on trainers, getting ready. It was all of a sudden very windy, making it even colder. I had on an under armor, a vest, my jersey, and a hoodie and I was still freezing. Double gloves couldn’t even keep my hands warm. I got registered and started to warm up. At least then my core started to get warm. Suddenly I realized it was my race start time and I came down late to the line, securing myself a solid 40-45th place start.
Before I knew it, we were off. It was uphill for the first 2 or so miles. The pace was very fast, people were working a lot harder than they should have been and some riders were already starting to straggle in the back. I kept up in the back of the pelaton, but found it very challenging to move up. The entire road was jammed solid and I kept getting cut off trying to move up. Around 1.5 miles in I heard something like a road sign falling down and then the sound of bikes hitting the ground and yelling. I remember what Katherine had told me last night, never look back. I just kept on riding. Soon we had topped out on the first climb, rounded a corner and started the descent. As I came through the first turn, I noticed that the top 25 rides had already moved far ahead of where I was. I looked around me and there were maybe 20 riders kind of strung out and left behind the pelaton. “Never get dopped” I thought, and started to sprint as fast as I could to catch back up, pulling the other stragglers with me. After 2 minutes of frantic sprinting I caught back up, exhausted. Now the peloton seemed to accordion, stretch way out when the pace was pushed up front, and then squished back together when the leaders would get tired and stop attacking.

We reached the bottom of the descent, made a turn, climbed 400m, and made another turn into the strong headwind. As I came through the second turn, I could see the top pack of 30 riders had already pulled a good 10 m ahead of me, and with no one to work with, I knew it was over. I couldn’t fight the 20 mph headwind alone. So the top pack pulled off and I struggled alone in the wind. A few riders who were on my wheel came up and we caught a few people who also got dropped from the lead pack. We started to pack together a bit, groups of three or 4 of us. The 5 miles of rolling/slight uphill were the worst. The peloton was slicing through the wind in the distance ahead of us, while we struggled to stay moving. Finally, we made another short descent, and started the steep final climb. This part was shielded from the wind and I gathered the top group had lost their advantage and was climbing at the same pace we were. If only I had managed to stay with the leaders. The climb was pretty easy and I pulled for my little group of 3 or 4. As we neared the 1km to go sign, the wind started to pick up again, a lot. With 800m to go, the person ahead of me inexplicably slowed and I came up on his back wheel. I had to pull out of my pedals and stopped for a brief second. The 2 other riders behind us also were thrown off. I got back in quickly and caught up to the UCLA rider I was with, whom I knew as Elliot. I looked back and I could see the poor Stanford rider who was behind me struggling to get in his pedals 50 m back. With 200 to go I could see the finish line and started to pick it up. But after having to catch up from my little accident, I was wiped, and got out sprinted in the final 50m.
I came through utterly exhausted. I was satisfied with my athletic performance, but dismayed at my strategic performance. I needed to get a better starting position and just hang there in the 2nd row. I could tell a lot of the C race riders in the top were very experienced just by the way they cornered and rode so tightly. At the same time, there were a lot of attacks at the pace in the first half of the race which I figured was going to be neutral. Anyways, next time I will stay with the top pack. John told me that although I finished 10 minutes behind the leaders, I was actually mid pack. A bunch of riders must have also gotten dropped pretty far back. As I recovered I could see C riders coming in, clearly very beaten and worn out. The wind was a killer. Before I knew it I see a pack of ladies sprinting in strong. Among them was Katherine, who had a great 4th place finish. Tired, we rode back to the starting area where we got pancakes and waited for the start of the other races.
All in all it was a decent first race for me and good first race of the season for the team. I certainly have a lot of learning to do and there are a fair number of other races this season I will have to get on top of my racing skills. I don’t plan on quitting track any time soon, but I must say, cycling has me hooked.

Women’s B Road Race – by Katherine Breeden

The collegiate cat B women's race went well for this Caltech rider, despite the cold morning temperatures. The course consisted of only one circuit of the 22 mile loop, which was characterized by a first half that was almost entirely downhil, and a second half that was almost entirely climbing. My strategy was to participate in as little of the early position-jockeying as possible. The pack stayed together for the downhill section and rode relatively conservatively.
After the start of the climb, the sun had come out and it was starting to warm up. Thankfully I managed to take off my hat and unzip my vest and jersey to cool down. Soon after a rider from Santa Barbara lept out of the pack and out of sight in the distance, putting at least 800m on us. After about a mile of climbing, I was in the front 6 riders or so. I went to take a pull in front only to look back and realize the pack had let me go! (I didn't try that again). I guess the other teams (who had multiple riders) felt like they'd just as soon not share their pack with me.
In the last 5 miles I made a move and dropped the remaining pack, taking with me a rider from San Diego. It felt great when I finally caught the woman from Santa Barbara who had broken off so long ago.
After leading this threesome for a few miles, a fourth caught up from a chase pack that had formed. By this time the wind had become very strong, and everyone was reluctant to pull. It eventually came down to a sprint finish, and I took fourth.

Women’s A Road Race and Crit – by Tracy Northup

It's been a while since I've raced competitively, but the San Diego weekend seemed like a good time to give it a try. The first lap of the 45 mile road race was pretty uneventful, except that towards the end of the climb, I dropped my chain. By the time it was back on, I had a fair amount of chasing to do. I was back with the pack by the top of the climb, but the effort caught up to me four miles from the finish, when things really started to move and I wasn't there. The 15th place finish was a bit disappointing, but it's an encouragement to get some more miles in on the road (and to be a little gentler with my shift levers). Afterwards, Katherine, Garrett and I got to discuss pro cycling fashions (argyle!) while watching the men's A / cat. 3 / Pro-1-2 races.

Sunday's crit was a lot of fun: once I got past that initial criterium shock of oh-god-this-is-fast, I really enjoyed being part of the action and felt pretty strong on my bike. I didn't go after any of the primes, but I did my best to set up the last lap, had a great time sprinting for the finish, and crossed the line 5th. I came out of the weekend -- as I think all of the Caltech team did -- with a renewed enthusiasm for riding and looking forward to the next few months.

Men’s A Road Race – by Will Sladek
The Men's A race began under beautiful clear skies, with crisp air, and the temperature conveniently above 60F. The race was 3 laps of a 22 mile loop, with the main obstacle being a 4 mile climb leading up to the finish. The race was very chill for the first 18 miles. Having raced this course twice previously, we had decided that attacking at the bottom of the first hill was an excellent strategy. Heavy winds on race day initially convinced us that sitting tight in the pack until the second lap would be a better strategy, but once we started racing, it became pretty clear that the wind would not hinder an early breakaway. Thus, shortly after starting the climb on the first lap, I happily decided to become the first racer to attack in the 2007 season. I sprinted hard, and 200 meters later, I looked back to see the entire field sitting contentedly on my wheel. Our initial script for the race had John McKeen counter attacking at this point, but Art from UC Santa Cruz beat him to the punch. I, along with ~12 other guys, quickly latched onto his wheel. We soon had a 100 meter gap, and began rotating against a stiff headwind. Nearing the last 1k of the climb, our cooperative spirit broke down, prompting a Stanford rider to make another attack. This time, only 6 of us hung on, forming the break that would last the rest of the race. Since almost every team was represented in the break (Caltech, Stanford (two guys), USCS, UCSB, CalPoly, UCI), the field happily let us ride away, which was lucky, because we didn't work well together at all. Miraculously, despite our serious lack of cooperation, we developed a 5 minute lead coming into the finishing climb. Realizing that sprinting was not my forte, I set as fast a pace as I could muster at the bottom of the last climb in hopes of dropping my breakaway companions. I wasn't helped by the persistent headwind on the first 2 miles of the hill, but nevertheless managed to whittle the group down to 5 by the time we came into the last 1k. At this point the CalPoly rider, who had actually been fairly willing to work the entire race, jumped. His attack was well-timed, as he went on to win the race by a comfortable 20 meters. I tried to respond to his attack, failed utterly, and resigned myself to happily crawl in for 5th place. Meanwhile, John managed 4th in the field sprint to take 11th place overall. He spent the day tirelessly covering any attacks out of the peloton, and generally making sure that Caltech would be mixing it up at the end, no matter what. So it was an encouraging day for the Caltech Squad. We scored solid omnium points, and John got to test his legs by dragging the field up the climb on the third lap, as well as making some hard efforts in the other parts of the course. His solid winter of base miles was clearly paying off. For me, I was just happy to be racing again. My off-season was long, and being in the mix in the season opener was a perfect confidence booster. I just can't wait to do it again.


Men’s A Crit – by Alec Durrell

Sunday saw the Caltech cycling team lining up at the Red Trolley criterium, organized by San Diego State University. The sun was out and the temperature in the 80s as Will, John, and I lined up among 40 other racers in the collegiate A field. We would be completing 30 laps around the 0.6 mile course that featured a hill leading up to the finish that was sure to burn the legs with each lap. The racing started fast from the gun as riders would attack trying to organize a breakaway.
Despite a presence near the front throughout most of the race, the team missed covering the break that ended up succeeding. With many of the larger schools represented, the break quickly established itself. The Caltech team tried several times to organize a chase; however, bringing the breakaway back proved impossible with the riders from the bigger schools disrupting our efforts, intent on letting the break stay away.
With the breakaway holding a minute lead, the Caltech team called off its chase attempt, and settled into the pack. Will and John each attacked a couple of times hoping the field would let them go; however, while no one was willing to chase the breakaway, the peloton was very eager to follow the wheel of anyone trying to escape. Left with no other options, the team members were forced to try their hand in the field sprint. Despite being a team more focused in the climbing races and lacking a pure sprinter, the Caltech riders gave it their all in the sprint with Alec, Will, and John finishing 20th, 26th, and 27th, respectively.

2007 Road Season

2/3-2/4: UC San Diego (Boulevard, baby!)
2/10-2/11: Cal Poly SLO
2/17-2/18: UCLA
2/24-2/25:

3/3-3/4: NO RACES (NRC Event: Merco Credit Union Cycling Classic)
3/10-3/11: UC Santa Cruz
3/17-3/18:
3/24-3/25: UC Berkeley

3/31-4/1: 4/7-4/8: UC Santa Barbara
4/14-4/15: University of Nevada Reno
4/21-4/22: Stanford
4/28-4/29: UC Davis (WCCC Championships)

I think the only eventes that conflict (at the ones I think are worth missing the collegiate season for) are Nelson's Landing Stage Race in Las Vegas (Conflicts with UCLA) and Sea Otter (conflicts with UNR). I'm guessing that the San Dimas Stage Race will be 3/16-3/18, so that fits in nicely. Let's hope I am correct!

Everest Challenge

This past weekend Ben Deverman and I (as well as a couple other PAA riders) had the great privledge to “enjoy” the beautiful scenery offered by the Eastern Sierra Mountains near Bishop, CA while suffering through roughly 12 hours of riding, drastically varying temperatures, and nearly 30,000ft of climbing. Yes, you guessed it, the Everest Challenge Stage Race. While I spent much of the race oxygen deprived from either the climbing or the elevation, here is my recollection of how the Cat. 3 race went down. The 3’s rolled out with the Pro/1/2’s on Saturday morning at 7:35am, which meant I didn’t get a good chance to see who was in my field. I had heard from multiple sources that most riders go too hard on the first climb and crack, so my plan was to keep my heart rate under control and see what happened. After roughly 8 miles of neutralized start, we hit the lower slopes of the first climb where I let most of the field ride away from me, as I was pretty content to gauge my early efforts. For a nice course description, read Dan Vinson’s report at www.socalcycling.com. The first stretch was actually quite enjoyable with an average grade of ~5%, and I ended up passing quite a few people over the duration of the climb. I don’t remember how long it took, but it was damn long, an omen of what was still to come. I really wasn’t sure how many riders were in front of me when I hit the top, as a good number were on the descent before I hit the summit, but the 20 miles coming down the first climb were frigidly cold! I had thrown my vest and knee warmers earlier, and was now paying the price. Fortunately, the temperatures warmed up quickly after leaving the high point of the race at 10,250ft. I descended a little faster than I really wanted to and then worked together with another 3 through the flats enroute to the second climb, which allowed us to make up quite a bit of time on what turned out to be the lead chase group of Cat 3s, although they definitely weren’t chasing in the traditional road race sense. (There was one other rider off the front, but he smoked us all both days, and I never actually saw who he was until awards.) I felt great going into the second climb and quickly dropped my companion from the flats. I still wasn’t pushing too hard as I knew the third climb was going to be tough, so I settled into a good rhythm and ended up catching the aforementioned group of 3s. As I caught them, I held the pace I was going and they let me ride through and off the front, which surprised the crap out of me. When I got ~20 yards in from of them, I could hear them wondering to each other where the hell I had come from. I hit the summit a couple hundred yards in front of them and hammered the descent. (I later found out that all but one of them had stopped at the top to relieve themselves. The one guy who chased me was supposed to stop, too, but was apparently not so willing to let me get away.) I came into the flat section between the second and third climbs alone but kept what I thought was a reasonable pace, as I was still feeling good. I quickly stopped to use a tree and then kept cranking, at which point I had my first cramp of the day. I slowed a little and looked back to see a group of riders, so I slowed a little more and let them catch me. This group contained the one Cat 3 (Webcor) who didn’t stop at the top like he was supposed to. I actually would have stopped, too, but they didn’t seem too interested in conversing with me when I caught them. We soon hit the final climb, a grueling 5400ft of climbing in 17 miles, after 80 miles of riding and ~10,000ft of climbing. Webcor and I dropped the other riders we were with and he subsequently dropped me rather effortlessly, or so it seemed. I caught a few people during the first 8 miles and then got caught by the three remaining cat 3’s that I had caught on the second climb with about 10 miles to go. I chugged a bottle of coke and was able to up my pace enough to chase back to within a hundred feet of them, but I never caught them. The last 10k was quite steep and I felt like I was going to die. I had some mild cramps and oxygen depravation was setting in as I was doing all I could do to limit my losses. With 5K to go, one of the riders in front of me attacked the other two and rode away. The last 1K was the worst part of the entire race, and I really wanted to quite riding. I finished 6th for the day in 6:46.59, 36 seconds behind 4th and 5th, 2 minutes behind 3rd, 10 minutes behind second(Webcor) and a whopping 20 minutes behind first place. Like I said, he killed us all. Once I got to the top, I ate a couple burritos, had another coke, some candy, and started to feel better, albeit, cold and tired.

The second day, we again rolled out with the pro/1/2s. After 3miles of neutralized start, the racing began, and a lead group quickly developed and pulled away. Fortunately, a 3s group also developed, which included GC positions 2-7 and a few others. The first placed rider was, again, up the road with the true lead group. Someone accelerated near the beginning and I was content to let them go up the road. This time, however, they never got more than 200 yards in front of me and I rejoined the group far before the end of the climb. The pace was much more reasonable than the lower slopes of Saturday’s first climb and I took that as a good indication that everyone was as tired as I was. The first descent was fast but warmer than day one. We stayed together through the flats between the first and second climb, took a quick break at the base of the second climb to relieve ourselves, and then hit the second climb of the day. At approximately 8 miles, this climb wasn’t too bad either. The 4th placed GC rider accelerated at the base of the climb and the 5th and 7th placed GC riders went with him. The rest of us were content to let them tire themselves out, and I was pretty sure we would catch them either on the descent or in the flats on the way to the third climb. They built a lead of about 2 minutes on the climb, but we kept the speed up on the descent to make sure we would make the catch, which we did enroute to the third and final climb. The last climb of the race was 22 miles long with the last 3 miles averaging over 10%!. It actually was a beautiful climb and we again stayed together for most of it. Through the middle section no one wanted to work very hard, so we rode on and off at 6 mph. Not that the 8 mph we were going when someone was out front was that much faster, but it certainly felt like it. I can’t adequately describe how long the climb seemed, but riding in a group with a bunch of tired riders kept up morale. About this point there was some discussion in the pack about people being content with their GC positions and one rider commented that he wondered if I was going to attack (since I was only ~40 seconds off his and another riders time). For the moment, I was content to let them wonder what I was going to do, as I really didn’t know yet. Half way up the climb, I learned that we had dropped the 3rd place GC rider, which everyone was pretty happy about. We kept chugging along and with 8 miles to go, got caught by some masters riders. The pace quickened a little as we hung with them through a few flatter sections. I would like to tell you that I felt better when we hit the 10 K mark, but at the pace we were going, I knew there was still 50 minutes of hard climbing ahead. With roughly 5K to go we hit the sustained steep section, and it was at this point that I felt content with my GC position, as I figured I was in fifth and didn’t want to attack, blow up, and get caught by the guy we dropped. So, I convinced the other riders that I wouldn’t actively attack their 40 seconds and we rode on together, shedding a few more riders. With a mile and a half to go, the riders in 2nd and 3rd picked up the pace a little and the guy in 4th and I were content to let them go and ride in together. For those you who have climbed Mt. Baldy to the lifts, this is what that section reminded me of, except it was much longer. As we finally neared the finish line I asked the rider I was with if I could cross the line in front of him and he graciously agreed (which was the nice thing to do since I had agreed not to attack him in the final couple miles. I really wasn’t in the mood to hurt, cramp, or blow up). We rolled across the line together two minutes behind second and third in a time of 5:04:12. I actually felt much better at the finish of the second stage than the first. I never cramped and was happy about that. I put on some warmer clothes, ate a couple burritos, a PB&J, drank a can of Mountain Dew and some hot chocolate, and then waited around for a while before descending 8 miles back to the car.

Overall, it was a great experience! While it was definitely brutal, I had a great time and would recommend this race to anyone who likes to suffer and mental tough as nails. Will I do it again? I’m undecided. But, if anyone wants support for next year, count me in.

l'Alpe d'Baldy

By: Ian Shapiro

After all the cycling I did this fall and winter when my knees were forcing me to take some time off of running, I figured I ought to get into a few spring bike races. The problem is that between coaching and track meets and visiting Davis I had hardly any weekends free to get myself to collegeiate cycling races. California schools in the WCCC organize events almost every weekend, but sometimes getting to them requires a drive to the central coast or northern california.

The Claremont race held at Mt. Baldy, however, seemed ideally situated in the schedule, and the start at Baldy Village was a mere 45 minutes from Pasadena. After racing a track 5k at the Oxy distance carnival two weekends earlier, I decided my knees needed a break from running and got back in the saddle to whip myself into cycling shape. After one big week of riding I already felt sort of flat and overtrained, and even picked up a mild cold. Still, Baldy was my only solid chance at doing a race before the season ended, and I figured I'd just ignore the sniffles and at least ride for the experience. In addition, the course seemed suited to my strengths: lots and lots of climbing over a relatively familiar route, with little likelihood of any tactical racing or a sprint finish. The race flyer, put together by Chris DuBois of Pomona, billed the race as l'Alpe d'Baldy, after l'Alpe d'Huez of Tour de France fame. It sounded great.

Sunday morning I was up early, and after breakfast of a baked potato, coffee and toasted bagel, packed up all my cycling gear and picked up Will and Ruby at their place. Earlier this year Will had been tearing up the west coast collegiate cycling scene, racing to several top-5 finishes, but he'd broken his clavicle in a criterium a few weeks earlier and was resigned to spectating for the rest of the season. On the ride up to Baldy Village I mentioned that I was entered in the 'B' race, which prompted a rather passionate response from Will: "What?!? That's outrageous! How can I live vicariously if you aren't in the A race? We'll fix that as soon as we get up there. Besides, it'll just end up being a time trial and it won't matter if you get dropped."

Upgrading to the men's 'A' race was made easier by the fact that everything was delayed an hour (some people forgot about the time change), and none of the race fields were full. After switching me over, the A race still had a a paltry 15 riders. As I warmed up with a few short climbs and munched on a power bar the day unfolded beautifully. Most of the previous week had been cold and rainy, but now even at the 4500' start the sun was crisp and clear and the air just warm enough for short sleeves.

As the A's gathered at the start for our final instructions, the finishers from the men's C and Women's B races began trickling in. They looked pretty beaten, and their respective race routes didn't include the final few miles on Mt. Baldy Rd. leading up to the ski lifts, which we'd be doing after we passed back through the start area. Our race officially began at 11:30, though the first 16 miles, descending 3000' to the San Gabriel River on a car-free road, were designated as neutral. Our pack cruised through the descent, and it was a great opportunity to soak in the snow capped peaks surrounding us, not a single car or building in sight. It wasn't quite the Alps (not that I've seen them in person), but it's up there with the very best southern California has to offer.

At the turn around point we all stopped for a pee break, and peeled off all unncessary layers, stashing them in the chase car. I ate a gel pack and picked up a full water bottle from Will. All was still casual and relaxed as we lined up again for the real race start and rolled into the initial climb up East Fork.

The peace lasted about five minutes. Then someone at the front decided they'd had enough. A pack of seven riders quickly separated from the rest of the field. All along I'd been telling myself to find my own pace, and that drafting in a tight pack wouldn't be important in an extended hill climb like this. I let them take off, picturing those final terrifying miles to the ski lifts, figuring it would be more than worth it not to burn myself out early. But I hadn't counted on the headwind. After a few minutes of internal debate I decided being in a pack would be worth it, and launched into a chase. Will, Chris and Ruby drove up behind me on their way to the front and urged me on. I could tell I was gradually reeling the lead pack in, but the anaerobic clock was also ticking in my things. At one point they were so close I swear I could hear them breathing. They couldn't have been more than 30 yards away when the oxygen debt took over and forced me back. I settled back into a sustainable rhythm and waved the chase car by. "It's all right Ian, just find your pace and hold it," I heard Chris yell as they pulled by to approach the lead pack. I picked up on an edge of disappointment in his tone though, one I've become familiar with as a coach. You've got to be optimistic when you're dealing with someone on the edge, and you've got to come up with something positive to say even when the situation doesn't look good. It was a darkly comic moment. I like dark comedy though.

From the mile markers it looked like I still had about 3 miles of climbing left on East Fork Rd before turning onto Glendora Ridge for the long traverse back to Baldy Village. I glanced back on one of the sharp turns and saw another rider stalking me from 70 yards back. After a few minutes he'd caught me, and I hooked onto his rear wheel for the last section of the climb. Turning onto Glendora Ridge Rd we had our first flat stretch, and I was happy to at least have someone to draft with. "Hey man, what's your name? I'm Art." he said. "Ian, " I replied. "Have you been on this road before?" "Nope." "Well, we just finished the biggest climb, at least before the last few miles. There's still some elevation gain this road, but it's nothing as sustained as what we just did."

That was about all the talking Art and I would do. We alternated leads on the brief flats and downhills, though we'd separate a little on the climbs. He seemed to be a strong rider, and I wondered how long I'd be able to keep up. But suddenly on one of the last real climbs before the rolling approach to the start area he faded inexplicably, and later I'd find out that he didn't finish. I pushed ahead, gaining momentum on the rolling downhills and using it to try to power up the few short climbs. My familiarity with the road, having done it as recently as a week before, was invaluable. Passing the start I heard a few cheers, and used the brief descent to Mt. Baldy Rd. to take in as much water as I could mange between gasps. "No respite between here and the finish," I thought, steeling myself for those cruel switchbacks, remembering in the back of my mind how crushing the final climb to the ski lifts had been last time.

On Baldy Rd. there were also, unfortunately, cars. The shoulder was plenty big to avoid feeling squeezed, but they're just plain old unsettling, especially when you're out of your mind on physical exertion. Also, the unpleasant smell of burning brakes from the cars having just done the descent was something I'd forgotten.

Passing the "Ski Area, 3mi" sign I finally felt the draw of the finish and tried to refocus myself. I'd saved my final gear, a 26-tooth cog in the back, for just this point of the race. It was invaluable on the steep turns between switchbacks, and though my pace was a crawl I was redlining on effort, trying to get close to the edge while keeping in the back of my mind the thought of that even steeper final mile. I hardly noticed the cars crawling up the turns with me, though I do remember being passed at some point and looking over with an expression of drool and wild eyes. On one of the relatively long straights I even caught sight of another rider, my first in nearly an hour, about 150m ahead. There was nothing to be done in terms of catching him though. After another few minutes I was suddenly surpised to pass by some college kid waving a flag and standing by a cardboard box with a '1K' hastily spraypainted in orange. "Great job, only one kilometer to go!" He said. Wanting to protect myself from the cruelest possible joke, the only words I could think to rasp out between gasps were "That's bullshit!" He responded with a dispassionate "well, whatever", though before I rounded the next turn I heard him yell, "Oh, they moved the finish! It isn't at the top now."

I tried to believe what he said. I tried to imagine the finish line less than half a mile away and power though the turns. But I had to leave something for that last crushing climb, just in case. Only when I rounded a sharp corner and saw everyone screaming just a hundred yards ahead was I able to upshift and launch into a slow-motion sprint. Crossing the chalk line I rolled to the shoulder, unclipped, and rested my head on the handlebars.

Will, Chris and Ruby were all there at the finish. Lying down and finally straightening out my back was the sweetest sensation imaginable. Will pulled out my extra water and handed me a power bar. After a few minutes I actually felt pretty good. "Man, I was holding back. I thought we'd have to do that last stretch." "Yeah, there's a traffic jam up there or something, so we had t to put the finish here. Chris was really pissed about that."

It turned out I was only a few minutes behind the lead pack, which had dwindled to just 4 riders at the kilometer-to-go mark. Watching the rest of the A's, and soon also the first B's (they started 15 minutes beind us), roll raggedly into the finish, I couldn't help but say, "Wow, I'm glad I didn't have to race anybody at the end there. I'm not sure what I would have done." Will responded with, "You actually did pretty well. After you dropped off we figured you'd be 20 minutes back in no-mans-land by the end." I finished in 8th. In an unusually small field. With some of the top riders out with injuries. But hey, that still scores some points!

After ten or fifteen minutes I pulled on my extra clothes and pedaled back down to Baldy Village, passing cars riding their brakes through the turns, cheering for riders still finishing the agonizing climb. Going up the last ascent from the village to the start area I felt great, even strong and fresh in some distorted sense of those words. Later that evening the fatigue and my cold caught back up with me, plunging me into a 12 hour sleep-of-the-dead, interrupted only by a brief dreamlike interaction with Zane and Michelle as they ate their anniversary burritos.

Stage III. San Dimas Stage Race

Stage 3 was the downtown crit. The course had six turns including a sketchy left hand turn with a huge dip through the gutter. There was a four block climb that was enough to make the legs burn followed by a fast five block descent leading into the last turn before the finish line. After holding my lead in the road race, the GC classification would come down to this race, and I can’t emphasize enough that I owe the GC win to my teammates. Without them, I would not have held the lead. Again, from the beginning, PAA set a quick pace. I pulled for the first lap and Rafael pulled the second lap. After that, people started to move around and the pace remained high. In fact, the average speed for the race was over 31 mph. Some of the PAA V’s commented that this was the fastest crit they had ridden in. There was a one man break early in the race, but we worked to reel him in after a lap or two. Jason won the intermediate sprint with Lyle on his heels in third. Fortunately for me, they were able to hold of 530, who also went for the sprint. The remaining laps were fast as well. With four laps to go, a teammate of 530 (both were riding for Covina Valley) moved in front of me on the wheel of his teammate. This made me pretty nervous, as I was not feeling as fresh I had wished. I hung close until one lap to go when 530 passed the few people in front of him to get out front. Fortunately, Lyle and Jason also moved up past me to the front, because I no longer had the legs to defend my position. Coming through the downhill and into the final turn, 530 was out front and Lyle and Jason were close behind. I was back in 15th or so, watching all of this unfold and feeling helpless. The sprint started and at the line Jason came through first winning the stage! 530 finished 3rd, gaining a 6 second time bonus, but not enough to put him in front! As I said, I owe my GC win to my teammates!
Overall, we had a great race and worked well as a team. I certainly owe them all a great deal. Said and done, PAA (my non-collegiate team) won all three stages and had three riders in the top 5. We also won the yellow and green jerseys, and finished second in the KOM competition. I have included a couple pics Banner (I think) took. Thanks again to all the PAA V’s for helping me maintain the overall GC. I had a great time and look forward to racing with you all again.

Stage II: San Dimas Stage Race

Well, today was another successful day for me at the San Dimas Stage. With much thanks to my PAA/Merrill Lynch teammates I was to win the stage and maintain the overall leaders jersey. My teammates set a quick pace almost immediately and the race never slowed down. They also took the first two positions in both of the intermediate sprint laps to keep others from gaining the time bonuses. I spent the whole race keeping an eye on (and holding the wheel of) the second place rider (only 6 seconds back from me at the beginning of the stage). The pack mostly stayed together until the last climb (a moderately steep 200 ft ascent over a half of a mile or so) when the second place rider attacked HARD! I was a few bike lengths back when I saw him start to move up. He started passing riders at the bottom of the hill and I started cranking as hard as I could to stay with him. We pretty quickly dropped the pack as he set a blistering pace up the hill. I held his wheel to the top and down the fastest descent of the race. As we came into the flat section leading to the finish I held his wheel and let him do all the work. With 100yrd or to go, he tried to sprint, but I was pretty fresh as I had had the opportunity to recover from the climb while he was still pulling, and I out sprinted him for the stage win. The race was great fun and I am looking forward to the crit tomorrow! Hopefully there won't be any accidents. Until the....

Stage I: San Dimas Stage Race

Today was a successful day for me in my first ever USCF road race (and hence first stage race). Todays stage was a 3.8 mile hill climb time trial up Glendora Mountain Road. The first three quarters of a mile of the course was sort of flat but after that it was pretty much a continuous climb. I started at 9:11 am and the course took me 15:37 to ride. I passed 5 or 6 riders on the way up to win the Mens Cat 5 stage by only 6 seconds! Third place was over a minute back (I don't remember the exact time). I now have to wear the leaders jersey in tomorrow's stage and am a marked man. Fortunately, I have a good team who I hope will help me keep the jersey. I know one thing for sure. Tomorrow is going to make for an interesting stage. I'll post again on the results of tomorrows road race.