University Road Race Pro 1/2

8/22/2010
By Mark Edwards

“I’ve never worked so hard to place so low” Scott proclaimed as I walked towards him after his race. Yea… I know how you feel…

This year was to be my 8th time racing the University road race. Each year I’ve done a little better, culminating with my 2nd place finish in 2009. This year, I trained harder than ever and hoped to be competitive for the win. Until, that is, about a month ago when I discovered that VeloPromo had dropped the 45+ 1,2,3 race for 2010.

Now, I understand as well as anyone that bike racing is by category. If you’re a 70 year old Cat 2 you should be able to race a 22 year old Cat 2. If you can’t, you should downgrade. But, its hard work upgrading, no one really relishes the thought of voluntarily dropping their category just because they’ve gotten a little older. So, most of us find ways to race smarter, handicapping with our advancing experience levels.

Most of the NCNCA race courses on the calendar provide ample opportunities for those of us more “senior” racers to exploit our hard earned devious equalizing tactics. But, not the University road race, this one’s unusual. No place to rest, no place to hide, ever. It’s “climb all out for 4.5 minutes, then work your butt off to stay on for the 2.5 minute descent before starting the climb again”.

Without the 45+ 1,2,3 available, I had the choice of the 35+ 1,2,3 or the Pro 1/2. I could likely get a top 6 out of the 35+, but top 3 would be impossible. Now, I’m not complaining, top 6 in such a tough group on such a tough course is something to be proud of. But, with my year long plan to go for victory out the window, I was having trouble willing myself to get psyched up to suffer the way this race requires with no chance of reaching the top podium spot.

So, what did I do? I walked up to the registration tent and said “Pro 1/2". Did that really just come out of my mouth? Oh well… its game on now. I had decided that, if a win is out of the question, why not jump in the deep end and see how long before the Lifeguards had to pull me out. So, off we went. A planned 20 laps, which works out to 60 miles and 7,000 vertical feet of climbing.

For the first time Nils and I would be racing together. I was really looking forward to having him there as a teammate in such a tough field. Nils is a fun racer to watch from the sidelines, racing with him promised to be even more fun.

The first half a dozen laps were fast, but manageable. They all felt well within what I do every week at the Team’s Wednesday hill repeat workout. But, instead of six minutes rest like in the workouts, we were spending two and a half minutes chasing to stay on wheels before the next climb started (University RR is a ~3 mile loop – you’re either going up or down the whole time). Nils and I stayed well positioned in the pack. A couple of times Nils went to the front for the final corner coming into the climb and created a little gap by flying through the corner. Like I said “fun to watch”.

The seventh lap was noticeably harder. A post race review showed an average power output of 433 watts for the climb. This pace would be far beyond almost all the top guys I normally race – even if they had fresh legs! Let alone on the seventh time up that hill. About 25% of the peloton was shed. Unfortunately, Nils was among the casualties.

The next two laps were similar to the first six. Fast, but well within what I was capable of. Then, once again, the stakes were raised on the tenth lap, summiting at 414 watts average. Hoping for a respite on the eleventh lap, I was to be sorely disappointed. A second consecutive 400+ watt lap proved too much for me. Painfully, I watch about 25 guys continue over the crest without me.

It was now time to go into time trial mode – for nine more laps! Not a very appealing thought considering I’d just popped and my legs felt it. I knew guys would continue to be shed from the lead group and hoped to find a few to work with. A good paceline can make the time go by much quicker. I was pulling back about one rider per lap, but each time I’d catch one in hopeful anticipation of working together, it was obvious the fight had gone from his legs. So, on I went looking for my next potential partner.

Around lap 15 my faith in finding another guy to ride with had faded. My back was killing me. Guys I’d been racing moments ago had dropped out and were now standing watching the race with cold drinks in hand. Temptation…

But, I knew my teammate, time trial specialist Nils, would never give up. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was back there, low on his bars, probably dragging three other guys.

The final laps seemed to crawl by. I could have sworn they forgot to change the remaining lap cards a few times. I went through feeling terrible, then a little better. I tried to get aero on the descents, and kept the pressure on the climbs. I was fumbling to find a semi comfortable position on the bike, and trying to avoid cramping, the thought of Joe’s treats, fresh from the Buttery, kept me going.

Throughout the race, Margaret and Michele were there every lap in the feedzone coaxing me to drink more. They succeeded, without them I would have had to drop out for sure. Also, several team members provided almost constant cheer for the entire length of the climb. I can hardly believe their perseverance for nearly two and a half hours, I’m very grateful. It helped more than you know.

My finish was much less uneventful than I’ve become accustom to. I rolled across the finish line solo, very happy to have survived. My reward? 22nd out of 54 starters at an average speed of 21.1 mph. My lowest finish in years, kind of funny considering I was in the best shape of my life, and worked harder during the race than I have ever before.

If I could re-run that day, would I choose the 35+ race instead? No way! Sure, it hurt – a lot. Yea, getting dropped is no fun. And, I wouldn't wish riding 9 laps solo on that course on my enemies. But, occasionally stepping up is good. Yes, I was over my head, but how amazing to get to watch these athletes at the prime of their lives from a truly front row seat. It’s also a great reminder not to take myself too seriously, while simultaneously opening the door for what might be possible…

TBT coverage in today's daily

Two Santa Cruz bicyclists headed to the Masters Road National Championships


Read the full article here.

Bicycle Trip sends two racers to Masters Road National Championships in Kentucky

Team Bicycle Trip/Symantec is sending two of its top bicycle racers to the Masters Road National Championship races in Louisville, Kentucky, June 28 through July 4. They will compete against the top riders in the USA attempting to win a gold, silver or bronze medal for Bicycle Trip/Symantec and their hometown of Santa Cruz.

Mark Edwards (49, Santa Cruz), who is also Bicycle Trip’s team coach, and Jim Langley(56, Santa Cruz), will participate in the road race and individual time trial. Jim is a longtime bicycle mechanic, cycling author and former Bicycling Magazine tech editor. Masters age categories are in five-year increments, and Mark will race with the 45-49 men while Jim will race with the 55-59 group. Mark works as an Associate Distribution Engineer at PG&E, while Jim is the content director for SmartEtailing.com.

Both racers have been training for several years for this opportunity and are enjoying stellar seasons. Mark excels in hillier road races, and this year has stood on the top podium step of the Early Bird, Orosi, Copperopolis, and Berkeley Hills Road Races.

Jim has also had impressive results, taking first in the Madera Stage Race, and standing on the podium in the San Bruno Hill Climb, the Cherry Pie Criterium, the Orosi Road Race, and the Sea Otter Classic Circuit Race.

Independent and locally owned, the Bicycle Trip has enjoyed providing quality sales and service in Santa Cruz County for nearly 35 years. Open 7 days a week: Mon-Sat 10-6, Sun 10-5, 1001 Soquel Ave., Santa Cruz, CA 95062. Phone: 831-427-2580.

Berkeley Hills Road Race 45+ 1,2,3

By Mark Edwards

What a Team! Two weeks ago we got schooled by Morgan Stanley on how not to race. This week we were back, each of us had done our homework, we were ready to rumble.

Similar to Wente Vineyards road race, Morgan Stanley showed up with a serious show of fire power. In fact, on paper they were even more impressive for Berkeley. Two former professional cyclists and a multi time World Champion would be calling the shots for a team of 13 racers in a field of 60. Add to this the fact that Team Bicycle Trip was the defending champion, and it’s pretty easy to see that we’d be attracting some unwanted attention, the same type of attention that effectively shut us down at Wente.

Russ, Geoff, Dennis, Jim, and I had been exchanging emails all week; what could we do to offset Morgan Stanley’s advantage? We checked with anyone that would listen and came up with a strategy we hoped would be effective. Our pre-race tailboard oozed with enthusiasm and optimism, we might not win, but we sure weren’t going to hand the win to anyone today.

I don’t want to imply Morgan Stanley was our only concern. VOS, Wells Fargo, Webcore, Safeway, and a host of other teams all had super strong guys intent on winning. We’d hoped that, with Morgan Stanley’s various advantages, managing their threat would keep us well positioned for whatever surprises anyone else threw at the peloton.

This race is 2.7 laps of rolling terrain with several quad busting climbs. It’s a combination of high paced short climbs and numerous attacks that slowly eat away at your energy and strength. The first lap is typically fast, with nearly every attack answered immediately.

We were all on hyper alert. No one was going to walk away from us for an uncontested win today. All five of us stayed in close proximity to the front and carefully studied each attack. Dennis, Geoff, Jim, and Russ rode amazing races. The casual observer might have thought they were just sitting in, but in truth, they were ready to shut down anything dangerous. It was impressive watching them work. Every breakaway was evaluated. Not a threat? Leave them out there. A couple of strong teams represented? Wait… there goes some one! Catch a wheel… all back together. We only ended up having to chase a time or two. Perfect! We were playing this just right; it was likely all five of us would be together for the final lap. I liked those odds.

Son of a b**ch! What the hell was that? A rider near the front swerved erratically for no apparent reason. A wave of reaction rolled through the peloton. I heard a tire blow, and down went about 5 guys. The crash was behind me, I didn’t see it, but it turns out Dennis fell victim. Too banged up to continue (but not seriously injured – him or his bike) he hopped in the sag wagon and was stationed at the finish to cheer us in the final sprint.

The run up to the major climbs that mark the race finish is a rolling series of twists and turns. At this point, the group was tired, you could read it the body language, and hear it in the breathing. There was also a noticeable slowing of the pace, seems there was a consensus to take a little break before the dreaded uphill finish; a consensus that somehow didn’t get Jim’s vote.

Jim went to the front and dropped the hammer. It was beautiful to watch. Strung out in single file, guys strained to keep gaps from opening. It appeared Jim didn’t have any intention of letting the weary recover anything that might come back to bite us. After what seemed forever, Jim tired and pulled off. The peloton let out a sigh of relief. I’ve trained and raced many miles with Jim, I wasn’t so sure he was finished with the group. Sure enough… There he went again! Stretched to the point of breaking, it was obvious most of the 30 riders left wouldn’t present much of a threat on the final long climb to the finish.

Jim pulled off again, damage done, his amazing service to the Team greatly appreciated. He’d earned the respect of every aching body out there.

We were now very close to the finish. Morgan Stanley’s desperate cries of “We can’t win a drag race! Attack! Do something!” were answered time and again by their many solders. It was clear they were tired; you had to be impressed by their willingness to push themselves well beyond a normal person’s pain tolerance.

There’s a slight roller just before Papa Bear, the main climb with the finish line at the summit. Morgan Stanley sent a rider off hard just before the roller. It appeared this attack was doomed, but you never know… Less than a mile from the finish, Morgan Stanley comes to the front and starts blocking, peloton apathy takes over… and before you know it… you’re racing for second place. I was on Russ’ wheel and he was well position to neutralize this attack. I asked him to shut it down, he effortlessly closed the gap to a manageable 75’ or so. At this point I said “Wait for the next attack! Sit up” which we both did. We weren’t disappointed. In short order a dozen guys threw themselves at that hill like it was a 100 meter flat sprint.

Geoff was with Russ and me, deciding against a solo attempt due to threatening cramps, he had saved himself knowing he could climb with the best out there, giving Team Bicycle Trip both a second high placing and backup should I falter.


While I was in stunned disbelief last year, I expected the insanely early and hard attack this year (the climb is probably nearly a mile at 8 to 9% grade – similar to upper Bonny Doon, from the conveyor to Smith Grade). So, I went with it. As with last year, it soon petered out. I couldn’t see the finish, but it still seemed like we had a good ¾ of a mile to go. And now, things were starting to bunch up.

What to do? Heck… this is what I train for, I attacked. Hard. I got a gap and kept the pressure on. The hill flattens slightly at the top, then continues a bit before the finish. You can see the crest for quite a while, but not beyond. In your mind the crest becomes the finish, or at least close to it. But it isn’t. This is the worst feeling. Your legs are fried, you’ve given everything you think you can. Then you see that the finish is another ¼ mile away. Argh…

We were passing one of the women’s groups to our right. I kept glancing over my left shoulder; a Wells Fargo rider was making a valiant effort, slowly closing the gap. When he reached about 100 feet I thought “Damn! Maybe I can let him catch me? I’ll try to recover in the process, then nip him at the line.” My next glance showed that the gap had started to grow again. Cool! But, my legs were wobbling. "If I can just keep the pedals turning, I think I can hold on for the win." 200 meters, legs screaming in protest, “damn it’s taking a long time to reach the finish.”

Checking the gap again, it was continuing to grow. I gave in to the pain just a little and eased slightly on the pedals. It didn’t really feel any better, but I’d been in the wind the entire climb, I was surviving. I went by Sam Cerruti and he let out a cheer that cut right through the crowd’s noise. That was so cool. Then, for some unknown reason I decided to check over my right shoulder, the side where the women, heads hung low, were grinding there way to the top. What the heck?!? There was a Safeway guy coming up fast between the women and the gutter! Sneaky!

Well muscled, this guy looked like he could sprint. He launched an attack and appeared he had the legs to back it up. I came out of the saddle. We were wheel to wheel. “So close… I can’t give in. I must have a little something somewhere?” I thought about all the Wednesday nights out on Coolidge, I thought about all the times Joe, Dennis, Russ, Jim, Geoff… heck practically the whole team, had taken any opportunity to best me in the sprint to the top. “I know that pain. That pain passes, I can do this! I’ve done it dozens of times in training.” With a tug on the handlebars and a surge from the legs, I lunged across the line. Winning by a wheel.

What a team!

Wente Road Race 45+ 1,2,3

By Mark Edwards

We got squashed today. The bigger teams, with well coordinated blocking, kept the chase group on a short leash. While an early break of 5 kept their noses down and pedals spinning, those of us not desiring to race for 6th place got slowly frustrated by the very effective blocking from Morgan Stanley (MS) and VOS. On this date, bringing the break back wasn’t in the cards.

The race opened with a hard pace, shelling many of our 100 starting field on the first climb. But, hard as the pace was, guys are coming into race shape and it showed in how many were able to hang on. For the first couple of laps each hill provided the motivation for someone to take a dig, and dig they did. But still, after the initial thinning of the herd, it wasn’t easy to get rid of those fit enough to survive that first toasty hot lap.

It’s often said that, if you pay attention, you can learn something from every race you do. Today’s lesson for Team Bicycle Trip was pretty much impossible to miss. While we’ve all made strides as individuals, racing as a Team involves a whole other set of skills we’re just beginning to learn.

With one and a half laps to go Geoff pulled up next to me and said “if we don’t make something happen, no one else is going to”. And he was right, our group was mostly VOS and MS blocking, or guys unwilling or unable to work, so Team Bike Trip went to the front. Russ, Geoff, and I knew we were pulling the whole group, but none of us felt we came to race for 6th. We started with a nice smooth rotation, but after a few minutes Russ pulled up and waved me off “Sit on! Let Geoff and I do the work. Save yourself for the finish”. Huh? I tried to come around again and got the same response. Wow! Russ was serious, how cool is that? Two super strong guys willing to kill themselves so that I might have a better chance at the finish.

In hindsight, probably not a good plan. But it sure elevated my already high opinion of these guys.

Russ and Geoff continued to trade off, no help from the group. Watching these guys slave got me ever more frustrated as I watched 30 guys sit on. Now, I understand VOS and MS. I also understand a few may have been riding at the edge of their ability… but not all 30 of them.

Russ seemed to get a rush of adrenalin; he planted himself on the front, got low on his bars, and got those aero Zipps singing. We were on the level section and he was flying. We made the turn starting the gradual climb to the main climb and still he was hammering away. The effort had taken its toll though, I could feel the pace dip, but still no one had any interest in helping. Clearly Russ intended to bury himself to position Geoff and I as well as possible. Russ pulled off at the base of the main climb and wished us luck, we thanked him as we went by (as did the entire group – but apparently they weren’t grateful enough to help).

Immediately Geoff heated things up on the climb. A few guys came up with apparent thoughts of doing a little damage on the climb, but Geoff shrugged them off without hesitation. Each one that tried got the same response, an acceleration that quickly had them ducking back into the shelter of the group, tail between their legs (did I mention the wind, strong as it was, Geoff and Russ seemed immune).

Near the half way point Geoff’s account was drained, it was time to pay the piper. One of the attackers came around and Geoff was done. I jumped and got the attackers wheel, who quickly popped also. So now it was my turn. My Teammates had given their best, but the group was still unwilling to work, could I make headway by myself?

I crested the climb first and dropped down on my bars, attempting to keep the pace high without blowing myself up. With a couple of short exceptions, I stayed on the front for the next half a lap. Checking over my shoulder regularly my view was a smiling group of VOS and MS riders, only too happy for a free pull.

Finally back down near the starting line, I’d had enough. I’d been able to see the breakaway group for the past several minutes and knew that Bike Trip’s efforts had brought them into range. But, was anyone willing to put out a little effort to make the catch?

Apparently not. I sat up and took a good long look at the group behind me. Yea, there were a bunch of MS and VOS guys, but there were even more other guys that had no reason not to chase. What the hell? Did you guys all really pay your money, get up early, and suffer in the wind and hills for 3 hours just to give the breakaway an unchallenged win? I guess so.

So I tucked back in the last couple of miles and tried to recover. But VOS wasn’t done with us yet. James Allen had spent the day resting and had in mind winning the field sprint. James VOS teammate Jan Elsbach (whose skillful blocking not only was effective today, was equally impressive at Copperopolis two weeks ago) now went to the front and laid down a suicide pace, making sure those of us that were tired would get no reprieve today.

Jan pulled off at the base of the climb and now the fire works started. James went to the front and attacked with another rider on his wheel. Seemed too early to me, but tired eyes do that. I surged with the group from about 7th position. Passing guys as I went, I kept hoping James and his shadow would crack. James didn’t, his shadow did, but close enough to cross the line ahead of me.

So, what was the lesson? First, cover breaks! But, given the numerical disadvantage we were at, that’s easier said than done. The main thing I would have liked to have done different was that, generous as Russ’ offer to work for me was, we had no idea how far the breakaway was in front of us. We essentially fried each of us one at a time. I think we would have been better served to share the work between the three of us until we had the break in sight, then decide if protecting one of us made sense.

The other lesson was that; our confidence lags our fitness. With each lesson we grow stronger. Look for a more dangerous, more aggressive Team Bicycle Trip to emerge from these ashes of experience.

Copperopolis 45+ 1,2,3

4/11/09
By Mark Edwards
Photo Matt Werner, PhotoShop Lorin Gross

Last year’s Copperopolis road race marked my first entry in a 45+ 1,2,3 field. It also meant I’d be doing three laps (63 miles) vs. 2 laps (42 miles) on the bone rattling roads around Milton Ca. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. As it turned out, it worked out very well. Of the 40 starters, I was able to bridge from the first chase group to the leaders in the final 20 minutes to finish 3rd. Geoff, racing with me, provided blocking support that may very well have made the difference between the podium or not for me. Having a teammate’s support really makes the entire racing experience better.

This year my fitness and confidence were far ahead of last year’s. It’s still an intimidating race. The pounding your body and bike take punish your equipment and will to no end, broken bodies and bikes litter the course. But last year’s upgrade to Cat 2, a couple of recent wins, and improved power numbers all helped me feel prepared for this year’s “Paris- Roubaix of Northern California”.

But then, the doubts creep in… Last year’s podium spot was the result of an unplanned bridge, the group wasn’t motivated to chase, Geoff was able to block…

… then there was this year’s field. 60 guys vs. 40 last year, an increase of 50%. The list of starters was also impressive, if not down right intimidating. 3 World Champions, a National Champion, the current District Champion, and a whole host of really strong and accomplished Cat. 1,2, and 3 racers.

What if I made a poor decision? Had a mechanical? Got boxed in? Crashed? Popped on the climb? Well, at least if I crashed most people would forget about the lack of results.

Russ, Geoff, and I went into the first climb imbedded in the full field. 60 guys on a twisty super bumpy narrow single lane is tight. Lots of bumping and pushing as bikes bounce left and right a foot at a time. It was hard to move up, make that impossible – for me.

Near the top of the first climb Jon Ornstil, Clark Foy, and James Allen (three super strong contenders in any road race) opened a gap on the field. I was locked in behind 25 guys and could only watch as they rode off. But I was also relieved. Riding, head down all out with 3 guys for the next 3 hours… the seemingly never ending jackhammer your seat becomes wasn’t especially appealing.

On the second lap, on the first big climb, Rob Anderson went to the front and showed us how a World Champion climbs. He did some serious damage in the group; we crested with half the guys we started with. Then, about 90 minutes after the break had gone clear, we reeled those brave soles back in. They were clearly worse for the wear.

The start of the third lap, marked by one final tooth jarring accent was once again fast. This time Geoff headed to the front near the top of the climb and showed the group how we climb in Santa Cruz. I don’t know that any of the final group (about 12 at this point) got dropped, but most were completely spent by the effort. Way to go Geoff!

The final run in after cresting the climb was filled with attacks and counter attacks. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one praying not to cramp. About 20 minutes from the finish a rider unknown to me, in unfamiliar red and white kit, attacked. It was a bold move, and one that might potentially pay off big time. No one responded, soon he was a half mile up the road. Then the cat and mouse started… attack… sit up… attack… sit up…attack. This was followed by the bickering, “you chase”, “no you chase, you’ve got a teammate”. Then, the comment that got me, “I hope that guy wins, he deserves it”.

About this time we were approaching the base of the final climb. It’s short, but it had a headwind, and everyone’s tired at this point. Once again, Geoff assumed his smooth spinning, rip your legs off – slowly – position on the front. He ramped the pace up putting the group in distress. About half way up Anderson, as expected, went to the front and elevated the pace with a rider on his wheel and me just behind.

The solo guy off the front was out of sight, we were racing for 2nd. But I was still annoyed by some of the petty comments earlier. Anderson was breathing really hard, so 2/3rds of the way up the final climb I attacked. Checking over my shoulder every couple of seconds I could see I was opening a gap. About a mile of rollers follow the final climb, then a wicked fast bumpy technical decent into the final rolling mile and uphill finish.

At the summit I figured I had about 20-30 seconds. If I could make it to the decent I could hold my advantage. Then, I’d likely need the entire gap to hold off the chasing group in the final mile.

I dropped into TT mode and pushed as hard as I could. “what’s that ahead?” It was the solo guy. He was still way far ahead, but maybe… I knew I could descend better than most, maybe I could pull back some time?

Popping out at the bottom of the descent the leader still had ¼ of a mile on me. Again, down low on my bars, I started pushing. I didn’t want to blow up, I kept repeating “ride your own race, ride your own race…” I set a pace I felt I could hold for 2-3 minutes. As the finishing hill appeared on the horizon the leader saw me chasing. It still seemed like he was way too far ahead to catch, but I was hoping that seeing me would panic him into over exerting himself and blowing up.

If it happened as I hoped, he’d blow just as the grade kicked up, dropping him to a crawl. At 200 meters I was now on the steeper section. He had 100 feet on me, but he was slowing. I came out of the saddle and started my sprint. At about 150 feet from the line I was 15 feet behind him when he let out a string of expletives, sat down, and hung his head. He was so close, for a moment I felt a little bad. But heck! We’ve talking about a win in one of the NCNCA’s most prestigious races! Still accelerating, I flew by. Then, sitting down, I zipped up my jersey and smiled for the camera.

A very gratifying win, made even sweeter by Geoff’s excellent 5th place, and Russ’ super race – despite a mechanical in the final miles.

Wards Ferry Road Race 35+ 1,2,3

“The Best of the Rest”

By Mark Edwards 3/28/09

A new race course, a new category, I was a little nervous going into the Wards Ferry road race. I used to get frustrated the first time I did a race, it seemed I never knew what was around the next corner, and I never knew which guys to watch. More often than not I’d find myself dropped and riding alone. Not strong enough to hang with the leaders, too stubborn… Oops, I meant too strong to wait for a group from behind to work with.

The second year on a course I usually did much better, I had a pretty good idea when the attacks would come, I was a bit fitter, and I was learning who to watch. Then the third and forth years I found myself sometimes wanting something a little different.

So, recently I’ve been trying to find a few new races each year to keep things spiced up. Wards Ferry had been on my radar for a while, but the lack of any 45+ categories had always intimidated me. It’s known as a race of attrition because there are no flat sections; you’re either climbing or bombing down technical bumpy, twisty single lane roads at crazy speeds. Add to this that I’d have to line up with the 35+ 1,2,3, well… you get the picture.

This year Wards Ferry coincided with Brisbane, one of those races I’ve done enough times. My fitness was at an all time high, and the race was near my parent’s house, providing a nice excuse to spend the weekend with them.

So off to Wards Ferry!

The weather was perfect, clear blue skies, upper 60’s to low 70’s. Our starting field appeared to be about 30 guys, including a couple of other brave 50 somethings I recognized, and three of the women’s 1/2 group decided to start with us. We were scheduled for five 12 mile laps, up and down and up and down.

The group went out super hard. If they kept this up I was going to be in trouble. Before we finished the first lap my fellow 45’s (except Jan Elsbach) and the women had been dropped. We were down to about 15 riders in the lead group.

I found the next three laps surprisingly easy. There were several attacks, but they were all pulled in quickly. Of course the climbs hurt, but different from the 45’s, these guys seemed to attempt more damage on the flatter and downhill sections. They climbed hard, but it seemed more manageable than a motivated 45 group. It was probably the particular makeup of this group, lots of big strong riders.

I have a habit of missing when guys go off the front, even when I know most of the racers. But today I was especially susceptible. I only recognized one guy in the group and he was just hanging on. So, when two guys went off the front with a lap to go, I never saw them. The tight and twisty course helped hide break aways quickly, but even if I had seen them up the road, I wouldn’t have recognized them. We were over taking too many other riders and I didn’t have a clue which ones were in our group. Then, about 6 miles from the finish, a Safeway rider attacked. I hesitated, and he was gone. The group appeared to be making a concerted effort to catch him, but the occasional “You chase. No, you chase” really hurt our forward progress.

About a dozen of us crested the rise at the 1 KM to go sign. There was a false flat leading to one of those ever steeper finishes. Greg McQuaid (who kicked my tail all through the Fall ‘09 Low Key Hill Climb Series) was on the front and accelerating. On his wheel was a Taleo racer I had marked as dangerous from my pre-race results reconnaissance. Then me, just where I wanted to be, third wheel. Followed by a Morgan Stanley guy I’d been warned was super strong. Then behind him, 8 more guys that had all looked very formidable and hungry for a good finish.

By this time the three guys off the front had sealed up 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. I would find this out later, as I still thought there was just one guy off the front.

At the 200 meter sign Greg threw down a surge of power that blew the Taleo guy off his wheel. I wasn’t about to wilt in the face of this impressive show of strength, I countered and felt I had the speed to overtake Greg. But it would be only by a few feet at best. Coming up on 100 meters I was taking back ground from Greg, it looked like I would make it. But, I was in my big ring, and sometimes… on those ever steeper grades, you can run out of juice in a heart beat.

The small crowd gathered at the finish was going crazy. Seems the Morgan Stanley rider on my wheel had quite a fan base. They were screaming for him… “You got him! You can do it! Come on! Do it!” I kept expecting my legs to fail, someone to pass me from behind, get a flat, heck… I knew something was going to go wrong.

But I summoned from deep and gave one solid last surge, everything I had. I went by Greg as planned, and the Morgan Stanley guy never was able to do more than match my speed. He rolled across the finish a couple of bike lengths back. Just behind Greg.

As we cruised back to our cars the Morgan Stanley guy pulled up along side and said “You were the best of the rest today”.

Then he said “Good job on getting 4th”. 4th? Doh!

Orosi Road Race 45+ 3/21/09

By Mark Edwards

I’ve got to tell you, sitting here at my kitchen table the morning after the Orosi road race, I’m really wiped out. That was one hard race. I can’t remember ever being this tired the day after a race. I’m sure 3 hours of sleep prior to the race and 7 hours of windshield time didn’t help, but mostly, 54 miles in a four man break is a lot of work.

Matt and Matt met at my place at 4:00 AM, groggy and somber we loaded our gear. Jim showed up, already working on his first Starbuck’s caffeine boost, he livened things right up! Jim kept us entertained with his bottomless cache of hilarious stories. How can one guy find himself in so many crazy situations? I was the only one that had raced Orosi before, so I filled in the few quite spots with descriptions of the course and possible strategies. The trip down went by quickly.


Orosi is a tiny farming town east of Fresno right at the base of the Sierra foothills. Grain silos, large high school billboards, and pit bulls everywhere, it’s a very different atmosphere from the coastal congestion we’re accustom to. We arrived in plenty of time, parked 50’ from registration, changed clothes, and rolled out of the high school parking lot to warm-up. Nearly every racer we passed warming-up had a loose dog to warn us about, Orosians sure like their dogs.

Hanging out waiting for the start we had the chance to catch up with several of our co-racers. Then it was time to race. We started with a social paced promenade for the first three miles, meeting new guys and continuing to catch up with others. The promenade complete, the group stayed fairly mellow as we approached the climb and extremely rough pavement. Where Copperopolis is one big collection of pavement patches, bump after bump, Orosi is more a series of shallow pot holes – almost like an asphalt netting. Just as rough, but very different.

Last year Jon Ornstil attacked the bottom of the hill so hard I was constantly on the edge of getting dropped. It was the hardest I’d ever worked and still stayed in contact. Usually when I’m in that much pain I get dropped. Approaching the climb this year, I was understandably nervous.

I don’t know if the pace was a bit easier, if my form was better, or if knowing what to expect as far as rough pavement made the difference, but the pace was manageable. Not easy mind you, it was quite tough in fact, but I was able to stay in the group for the climb. Different this year, Jon had help from climbing sensation Clark Foy in keeping the pressure on. While both great climbers, Jon and Clark have very different styles. While Jon goes out hard and keeps it there (with the occasional surge thrown in for good measure), Clark goes to the front and you almost feel like he’s easing up. Like maybe you’re going to get a break from Jon’s relentless driving. But it’s an illusion. Clark is so smooth, once on the front he ups the pace in nearly imperceptible increments. In short order you find yourself in respiratory distress, all the while he’s spinning smoothly ahead.

As we neared the top of the first five mile climb I was concerned that the group was still too big. I’d hoped for the opening climb to do some major damage. This Race attracts a small field, it’s remote, and includes a lot of tough climbing. Everyone signed up was considered a good climber, no one else would bother. But a glance over my shoulder would reveal there was no group! There were only four of us left. Steve Archer, Jon Ornstil, Clark Foy, and myself.

Steve appeared to have been tested on the climb, but Jon and Clark looked like they were spinning down to their local coffee shop. We quickly organized and started working together. There was no urgency to our riding; I think we all expected to be chased down. The longer we stayed away the more I wondered if we’d be caught. Nearing the end of the first loop we had a couple of 2 mile views behind us, no one in sight. It appeared we’d stay away; we started to push a little harder.

I’ve raced with Jon and Clark many times and have a lot of respect for them. Besides phenomenal athletes, both these guys are great to be around. They make choices in their racing that consistently acknowledge that riding hard, camaraderie with their fellow racers, and personal integrity come before winning.

I’ve also been in several races with Steve, but before yesterday, hadn’t really spent much time with him. I have to say, Steve is amazing. Corny as it sounds, I came away from Orosi a better rider having raced with Steve.

As we approached the big climb on the second lap, Steve pulled along side of me and let me know he was cooked. He advised me not to sit on his wheel, he expected Jon and Clark would gap him and if I was behind him I’d have to close that gap. He also said he was just hoping to hold on long enough to keep from being caught by the chase group.

Jon and Clark once again went to the front and set a strong pace up the five mile climb, Steve hung in there. Once on the rolling flatter section, I was again able to come to the front and contribute to moving us briskly towards the finish. While Jon and Clark have an edge over me climbing, I think I’ve got a slight advantage on other terrain. I was only too happy to be able to pitch in where I felt stronger.

About ten miles or so from the finish I threw down a couple of attacks to try and gauge what the other guys had left. It’s always hard to tell, but it didn’t appear anyone felt any fresher than I did. It was still early, so I didn’t want to destroy the great work we’d been doing as a group, so I slid back into the group and took a fast line down the twisty narrow descent. As I felt I was the most comfortable on the descent, I figured I could gain us a few seconds over the chase group with the other guys following my line.

Steve had sat in a good portion of the second lap. As we turned the corner four miles from the finish he went to the front. Now here’s the classy part…. Steve put his head down and hammered. I was on his wheel and could tell he had been racing for nearly 60 miles, but he actually seemed to be gaining strength. I was watching for him to signal me to come around, but he never did. Looking over my shoulder I could see there was no chase group for miles, so we weren’t in danger of being caught, but still Steve pulled. I was mentally getting prepared for the finish. Obviously it would come down to a sprint, but how would it play out?

We made the final right hand turn marking two miles of gentle climbing to the finish line. I pulled up next to Steve and thanked him for the pull, to which he responded “you guys did all the work, it’s the least I could do”. Then he pulled back into the lead and continued to pull – he didn’t have to do this – but obviously felt it was the right thing to do. The next time I’m in a position like Steve was in this race, I hope I have the integrity of character to do exactly what he did. He could have sat on all the way to the finish, but instead he worked his tail off, and then gamely contested the finish having chosen to intentionally level the playing field.

The finish area is confusing. And we got confused. There’s a tent in the feed zone 200 yards before the finish and the spectators group at a spot between the feed zone and the finish. Each of these three points is only visible as you reach the preceding one. Steve was setting pace, I was on his wheel, Jon and Clark were behind me. I was listening intensely for a gear shift from behind to warn me that the sprint was on. Snick, clunk… there is was. Jump! Clark went wide to the left, he was coming by fast. I looked up and could see the feed zone tent was still way far off, but Clark’s an aerobic animal, if anyone could make a 400 yard uphill sprit he could. So I had to go. I came around Steve, but he unleashed a powerful surge. I got around him, but clearly he wasn’t planning to gift this win to anyone.

Clark faded, funny how an uphill sprint really zaps the legs. Just as I was thinking “Great!”, I figured out we’d been sprinting for the feed zone. Duh! I went by Clark fast, but knew I was in serious trouble. I could see the spectators beyond the feed zone and hoped I could hold on, but my legs were cramping, I was breathing so hard I almost drooled on my top tube (give me a break, it was my first race on my new bike – I didn’t want to get anything on it). My speed was down to probably 12 mph (remember, this was supposed to be a sprint). A quick glance over my shoulder didn’t work, my vision was too blurred. A longer look still took a while to process, but as far as I could tell I had 30 or 40 yards on Clark and the gap wasn’t closing. Maybe I could hold on…

10 yards from the spectators, I didn’t notice any officials. Oh yea… that’s right; the finish is another 150’. Crap! This was cruel!

How could I not be caught? I couldn’t even turn the pedals. I was wobbling, trying to keep my balance; it must have appeared I was in slow motion. One more look back… still a gap… I think I can make it…

First place Orosi road race 45+.

Swanton Time Trial March '09

By Mark Edwards

Way back in September '03 I did my first Swanton TT. I think my time was 33:39. At that point I reviewed the historical results for all riders and decided to set myself a lifetime "stretch" goal of breaking 30 minutes. In my ignorance it seemed possible.

By September '05 my PB was 31:40, I was very satisfied with my progress. That’s about when things ground to a crawl. In the following two years I'd only improve by 14 seconds to 31:26. My "stretch" goal was fading; I was finding myself coming to grips with the reality that breaking 30 minutes wasn't something I'd ever do.

In June '08 I broke through essentially 33 months of PB stagnation with a 21 second improvement to 31:05. While this was very motivating, nearly 3 years to gain roughly a half a minute meant that at this rate it would take over 6 years to reach 30 minutes. Never mind the law of diminishing returns. As hard as I felt I'd already been training, combined with Father Time conspiring against me, I had little confidence that I'd reach 30 minutes.

Then, last July, after seemingly endless intervals with the Team, a new bike, and apparently good conditions, I shattered my last PB by 41 seconds! With my PB now residing at 30:24, 30 minutes suddenly was coming back into focus.

Since last July I've kept that 30 minute barrier in the back of my mind. All those days I struggled to show up for the B-40 intervals… I'd just remind myself of the value of learning to go fast over rolling terrain and, how improvements on B-40 would really help me on Swanton road. Without setting a firm date, I knew I wanted to go for a new record sometime early in the '09 season.

The early time change meant that the Swanton TT series would again start in March. I'd be ready in April, but my form was good, so I wasn't ruling March out. On Thursday morning March 12th the weatherman said he expected "light" 5 to 10 knot winds in the afternoon. In my mind a 10 knot headwind is far from "light", but for Swanton Rd, 10 knots could easily be considered light.

Between my wanting to avoid the trainer, my present good form, and forecast “light” winds… I decided to roll out to Swanton Rd. My only reservation was the 6 x 6 workout at UCSC I’d done the previous evening. We had a big group with several very strong riders. The chase had motivated me to my 2nd best night ever. The downside was the residual soreness and localized fatigue I was feeling 24 hours later.

Dressed and ready to go, Margie, Geoff, and I started our warm-up rolling up Swanton road. We held a blistering 13 mph into the “light” headwind. Geoff and I exchanged a disheartened glance; this was far from ideal conditions for a PB.

We lined up and started at 1 minute intervals, I was the 5th or 6th rider off. I had finagled myself into following Geoff, I knew he would set a fast pace which would keep me pushing hard early. Without my power meter I was concerned I’d blow up fighting the headwind. I balanced on the edge as close as I could, several times I feared I’d dug too deep as my quads and lungs groaned under the strain. Luckily, I was able to recover and arrived at the bottom of the climb feeling reasonably good.

By this time I had pulled back all the riders ahead of me except for Geoff. Each time I’d seen someone ahead I’d hoped it was him. I knew he’d set a fast time, if I could possibly catch him that would mean I’d set a fast time minus one minute. As I neared the turnaround Geoff came by me, near enough to energize my chase effort.

As Geoff hammered the return, I kept him in my sights. My lower position on the bike was starting to pay off. The extra air Geoff had been pushing was taking a toll. I was finally able to catch and come around him. In that instant I went from predator to pray. Now, instead of trying to catch him, I was running scared he’d catch me.

My legs were screaming, I ignored them, I attacked the final two climbs out of the saddle. I kept the pressure on as best I could. On the flats and descents I just tried not to back off. The tailwind felt great on the final stretch, but I was clearly fading, my breathing had elevated to gasping, I was on my edge.

Woooosh, I called out number “9” as I crossed the line. Immediately sitting up, my breathing now graduated to panic gulps. I coasted, my vision blurred from the effort, until I’d regained enough control to turn around and slowly pedal back to the start.

Hey David! What was my time?

29:55

Nice…

Early Bird Road Race Open 45+

By Mark Edwards 1/24/09

Christmas stars? Or emerging 2009 Powerhouse?

Even casual early season racers have to be scratching their helmets on this one. Is it possible that, from our team’s humble partying roots, the “friendliest bike shop in town” has grown into a serious competitor in the NCNCA?

It’s tough to say, but I doubt any of the established dominant teams will be laying out strategies this year that don’t address the Bicycle Trip threat.

I’ve always wanted to do the Early Bird Road Race, but have been deterred by the weather. The race flyer’s warning of black ice, rocks, a technical steep fast descent, and the two hour drive kept me home and warm the past several years. But this year’s mild temperatures, combined with Jon Ornstil’s high recommendation of the course, convinced me to brave the expected rain and give it a try. I’m happy to say 7 of my teammates felt the same way.

Six of us would be starting the Open 45+ race, Geoff, Miles, Jim, Russ, Dennis, and me, while Matt would contest the 35+ 4/5 and Scott the 45+ 4/5. The fog was low at the start and the roads were damp, but not enough to spray off the wheel ahead. We quickly rose out of the fog, and even got a glimpse of the sun. Today our luck would hold, no rain.

The Early Bird Road Race is an out and back course. You climb gently for 19 miles, then hope you’ve got the legs for the final two mile 9+% ascent to the turn around. After which, out of the saddle, you accelerate and charge down the steep twisty two miles. Once off the steep stuff, you look for guys to work with to keep your pace high for the return trip.

The climb elicited uncharacteristically labored breathing from several of the usual podium contenders. But this is only January; many guys won’t find their form for another couple of months. Cresting the climb, VOS had Rick Martin off the front, followed by San Bruno champion Clark Foy. On Clark’s wheel was cagy Jon Ornstil, Rick’s teammate. Geoff, myself, and another rider would form the second chase group.

After a prolonged chase, the three of us became five as Jon and Clark were absorbed by the advancing freight train the three of us had become. Jon sat on the four of us, he wasn’t about to help us chase down his teammate. He would be hoping we’d fail, but if we did succeed, he’d likely be fresher than the rest of us. It’s a good solid plan.

Rick finally came into view, his long solo risk almost paid off, but not today. As we pulled Rick back, Geoff and I launched a couple of attacks, followed by VOS throwing down a few of their own. The attacks were a long shot for anyone to get away, but they do tear up the legs and gave us a glimpse at who might have something left for the sprint finish.

The finish line comes after a two step climb. Neither of the climbs is overly steep or long, but they are just tough enough to diminish the drafting advantage over a flat sprint finish.

There were a couple of hard surges to attempt to stretch things out a bit, but this was an experienced group of six, everyone was paying attention, and no one was caught out. Clark had moved into the lead a bit early, but he’s so strong you had to respect his early move. Rick, clearly one of the stronger sprinters in the group, had moved onto Clark’s wheel, with me on Rick’s, and Geoff on mine.

Rick surged ahead of Clark as Clark appeared to fade. Then there was this big hesitation, “it’s still a long uphill sprint from this point guys!” Rick was sitting on the front, not a position he wanted to be in, so he started a little cat and mouse game. He brought the speed down to probably 7 mph hoping to entice someone to take point, someone who would burn themselves out and provide a nice lead-out for his explosive jump across the finish line.

It was almost as if I could see the wheels turning in Rick’s head. It was still a long uphill sprint, but at only about 150 meters, it was rapidly coming into range. Then Rick jumped, what else could he do? With 5 guys sitting on him, any of them could come around several mph faster and there wouldn’t be enough real estate for him to make up the lost momentum. So he jumped.

Rick’s explosive, but it was exactly what I’d been waiting for. I held his wheel, knowing he had to be tired from his long solo break. As soon as his excellent jump began to top out, I came around and laid down a hard surge of my own. I got around Rick okay, but I could see a shadow on the ground to my left coming up on me. Fortunately the sprint distance was within the range that I could continue to accelerate, from my jump through the finish line. I wasn’t sure who was on my wheel, but was relieved when I saw their progress slow once they moved out of my draft. Suddenly winning seemed possible.

In disbelief, I crossed the line first. Turning to confirm that I’d really won, I saw it was Geoff that had been on my wheel. We had done it! 1st and 2nd in a very hard fought and well played chess game with some of the truly best Nor Cal racers.

Christmas stars? Or emerging 2009 Powerhouse? Time will tell. All I know is that we had a great time and this win was every bit as gratifying as my others. In fact, it was actually more gratifying. Geoff and I worked together like a New Dura Ace drivetrain (in hindsight, I don’t think our competitors stood a chance, the power of a team working together is like a work of art), and knowing our teammates were helping us further back in the pack, made this day one I’ll be talking about for a long time.


How’s this for timing… 50’ past the finish I flatted, a small sliver of glass puncturing the casing. Actually it appears I’d been losing air for a while, but I hadn’t noticed until after the finish. Talk about luck…

Mt. San Bruno Hill Climb Mstrs 55+ Race Report

San Bruno Hill Climb Masters 55+ Report

By Jim Langley
Photos by Sam Parker, Michael Hernandez and Kevin Kone


Please see Mark Edwards' excellent race coverage below for a complete report of the team's outstanding performance at San Bruno, to kick-off our '09 racing season. Team Bike Trip had 2 racers entered in the 55+ event, myself and Gary Griffin. Unfortunately, our other ace, Larry Broberg was sidelined with a hip fracture suffered while mountain biking (rumor has it he's recovering nicely, though).

We ultrageezers - as Michael Hernandez dubbed us on the NorCal Cycling News blog, rolled out just behind the 45+ group and were quickly strung out on the opening section of the climb, which is one of the steeper parts. For me this meant leap-frogging from small group to small group while I marked Ron LeBard who I thought was my main threat having been so soundly trounced by him last year in the Mt. Diablo Hill Climb. We easily distanced our field and even dropped former San Bruno champ Scott Hennessy, who we found out later was coming back from a bad flu.

Nearing the top (photo), Ron started to slow and I felt good so I pushed it across the line hoping I had won the race. But, as the fog cleared a bit, I could clearly see another 55+ guy standing there and knew he (Mac Carey) had won, putting me in second. Ron finished just behind for 3rd. Gary was only a couple of minutes back, 11th out of the 20 starters (sorry, I couldn't find a photo of Gary to post here).

The highlight for me was getting into the 17-minute club - and feeling like I might have been able to shave a few more seconds had I known a target was hiding ahead in the thick fog. Congratulations to all the Bike Trippers who made this San Bruno Hill Climb the most memorable of the 3 I've attending with the team so far. Awesome job!

San Bruno Hill Climb 45+

By Mark Edwards 1/1/09

Pictures by Michael Hernandez

Team Bicycle Trip rang in 2009 with a bang!

We stormed the Mt. San Bruno Hill Climb in force. 11 of us restrained our New Year’s Eve celebrating to show up ready to rumble in the cold and fog of New Year’s Day. We came by carpool and bike, we arrived an hour or so before start time and proceeded to attempt to warm-up. In reality, I think all of us were colder after our warm-up. The start line was a collection of shivering skinny climbers. I was absolutely miserable, thinking nobody could be as cold as I was. But a quick look around convinced me that I wasn’t any worse off than anyone else.

This year they started us in two waves. The first wave included the Pro 1/2, 35+, and a few other groups. The second wave, starting 5 minutes after the first, would have the 45+ men leading the charge up the opening 8% climb. This was the first time I’d been in the lead group for the start. It was a much better experience than previous years. No traffic, no close calls.

At the starter’s gun, we were off. Within the first ½ mile the lead group was already down to about a dozen. The attrition rate, like our pace, promised to be high. Team Bicycle Trip was well represented in the lead group. Geoff, Miles, Russ, and I made up a third of the most competitive group I’ve faced for this climb.

With an expected time of 16 to 17 minutes, there aren’t many reasons to hold back. Carl Neilson (2nd in 2008) was setting a blistering pace. I was intently focused on my fellow rider’s body language. As soon as someone revealed the slightest weakness, I had no choice but to go around them. Getting gapped at this speed would mean almost certain doom. 7 minutes in, Carl began to slow, but he’d already done plenty of damage. Even though most of the lead group was still together, it soon quickly thinned.

I could see that Geoff was feeling strong and considering taking over pacing duties from Carl. I was on his wheel and ready to go with him, but hoped he’d hold back… it was still nearly a 10 minute sprint to the top. Feeling good a third of the way up can quickly turn into blowing up at the ¾ mark.

Around through the Park entrance and out of the underpass, the road again tilted up. This time the smooth pavement was gone and the fog was hugging the mountain. Conspicuously absent at this point was John Novitsky (last year’s winner and current 50+ National TT Champion). This is also about the time Russ lost contact with the group, an impressive ride by Russ so early in the season (against some of the best NCNCA 45+ climbers).

The final climb would prove to be a real test for Team Bicycle Trip. We were down to Rick Martyn (winner of the 2008 University road race), Jon Ornstil (winner of the 2008 Mt. Tam and Diablo Hill climbs), Steve Archer (2nd @ the 2008 Mt. Tam Hill Climb), Carl Neilson (2nd 2008 Mt. San Bruno Hill Climb), Clark Foy (2007 BAR and 2nd in the recent LKHC series), and Bike Trippers Miles, Geoff, and myself.

This group would quickly slim down as Clark Foy timed his move out of the slipstream and into the lead perfectly. Clark was incredibly dominant in the Low Key Hill climb series this past Fall, placing second overall to the amazing climbing machine Tim Clark. Clark was my pre-race favorite, and I wasn’t surprised when he took the lead and upped the pace. He shed all but Geoff, myself, and Steve in short order.

With less than a mile to go Steve slipped off my wheel. Shortly thereafter I noticed Geoff had allowed a small gap to open between him and Clark. I still felt good, so I moved into the gap. Clark was so smooth and relaxed I almost forgot how hard I was working. As he inched the pace up I started losing contact. He made it look so easy, my legs were telling a different story.

The fog was on the ground at this point. It was disorienting, I couldn’t tell where I was on the road, or how far I had to go. Even when I spotted the 200 meter sign, I couldn’t trust that the finish was so close. Between the creepy low visibility and oxygen debt, I couldn’t process any thoughts other than to just keep pedaling. I was fading fast and Clark was showing no weakness what-so-ever. He crossed the line in first, and I limped across hanging on to second. Geoff filled the final podium spot in 3rd.

Had Clark raced the Pro 1/2 this year, he would have won with his time. My time this year was 53 seconds faster than last year’s 45+ winner. Just another example that the bar keeps getting bumped up in the hotly contested 45+ Master’s racing group.

Mt. Hamilton Hill Climb

By Mark Edwards 11/27/08

Mt. Hamilton is arguably our most epic local climb. At 18.4 miles and 4,343’ of vertical gain, it clearly has the credentials. But it’s the views, sweet pavement, and low traffic that seal its place as one of our top climbs. It’s also a fitting finale to the Low Key Hill Climb series and a wonderful way to kick off Thanksgiving morning.

This year also promised to be my chance to redeem myself for taking a wrong turn prior to last year’s finish.

Matt, Scott, and I carpooled to the start where we met up with Geoff, Chris, Nils, Bryan, and Gary. We warmed-up, put our jackets and warm clothes in the designated SAG vehicle, and lined up for the start. This year’s group appeared to be well over a hundred racers, likely setting a record.

Last year I got popped near the end of the first 6 mile climb, making the final 12 miles into an individual time trial. This year, although heavier, I hoped that the extra power I’d built working all those hill repeats with the Team would give me what I needed to hang on.

The lead car honked its horn and we were off. I stayed around 15th, keeping an eye on the key players, while Geoff sat comfortably in about 5th position. The remainder of the Team was hot on our heals, with everyone hoping for a strong climb. This years pace seemed easier than last year, but it was deceptive. Our leaders seemed content to set a hard steady pace, absent the quad searing surges of last year. The pace took its toll, dropping one or two riders at a time, until the lead group was down to about 15 riders as we crested the first 6 mile climb.

An early casualty was Tim Clark, series leader. Tim is so strong, he went directly to the front and pulled at what must have been over 400 watts for the majority of the first 10 minutes. He dropped back to rest and his competitors jumped on the opportunity to attack him. Tim, myself, and another rider got gapped. But we slowly struggled back onto the group before the second climb started.

The second climb saw the lead 15 break into multiple small groups of 2 to 4. After a short decent the third climb had Geoff and I working with Justin Lucke. Justin is a young strong Cat 2 that has traded placings with Geoff and I the past year or so. He tends to be somewhat inconsistent, but you can never discount him.

Geoff had been riding very smartly, staying out of the wind and well positioned. But we were now beyond the “save your energy” section of the race. The final 6.6 mile climb was sheer strength. Geoff was pulling like a freight train with Justin on his wheel, and me on Justin’s. I’d noticed Justin was allowing small gaps to open, and was progressively getting slower at closing them. I was also close to my edge, but figured I might be better off than Justin.

About this time Geoff sat up and looked over his shoulder for help. Justin wasn’t about to come around and I knew I didn’t have much left. As Geoff slowed I was considering how many times I’d seen an obviously broken Justin recover and become a serious threat at the finish (Mt. Diablo 07 the three of us played this same game). So I moved up front. I knew I was on my edge, but liked our Team’s chances better without Justin. Once in front I brought the pace back up to Geoff’s scorching previous pace. It worked, Justin dropped. As the gap opened Geoff returned to the front and proceeded to chase down the next couple of stragglers ahead.

Now with four of us together, Geoff was punching holes in the group with short surges at every switchback. One in particular sent a clear message to me that I was toast. I succeeded in hanging on, but I knew my time was close. Sure enough, not more than a couple of minutes later, at about mile 14, I had to let go of the three others.

At this point my focus switched to my time. I wanted to better last year’s time and felt I was well positioned – if only I could hang on.

About 2 miles from the finish, Tim Clark came by me. I tried to catch his wheel, but could only hold it for a minute or two. Even blown up, Tim’s an amazing force on a bike. Shortly thereafter, Dan Connelly went by me, he was clearly on a mission to attempt to catch Tim.

The last mile no one else appeared on the road behind me, so I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the cramping in my legs. I finished well worked and deserving of a big Thanksgiving meal, and with a PR of over 4 minutes!

Geoff did extremely well, placing 5th against many of our areas best climbers. I was a few positions behind in 11th. My time this year would have earned me 4th place last year, it’s amazing how much faster the races are getting.

University Road Race 45+

By Mark Edwards 8/24/08

University road race… I love this race! I’ve never podiumed, I suffer terribly, and rarely are the results correct. So why do I love this race? Many reasons, it’s my home course, we always have lots of friends come by to cheer us on, and there’s lots of climbing.

This year exceeded all others combined. We set up two Bicycle Trip tents, had at least half the team there at one time or another, had the most family and friends I’ve ever seen at one of our races (I don’t think I ever went more than two minutes without hearing someone cheer me on – that was amazing!), and… they even got my place correct.

And then, a real highlight, Joe Platin (racer extraordinaire and team sponsor) brought by an amazing array of great food prepared by The Buttery which was enjoyed by all.

I got to the race a bit early to cheer on our guys in the 35+ 4/5. I watched Scott ride the best I’ve ever seen in this race, while Matt impressed all of us climbing with the leaders (he’s gone from out of shape to a formidable climber in a surprisingly short time), and Bob showed that once his legs catch up to his heart – no one will be safe.

I’ve raced the 35+ 4/5 twice and the 45+ Open three times. I’ve been competitive in the 35+ 4/5 group, but never in the 45+. For this race the 45+ is combined with the 35+ 1/2/3 group. This combined field puts everyone at the mercy of some of the top climbers in the NCNCA. Historically it’s been an incredible amount of suffering for really lousy results.

Would it be different this year? Has my training prepared me for the inevitable surges and attacks? Never mind that this is probably the most demanding course of the season.

As usual, the starting roster was a who’s who of climbers in our District. All my main rivals were present and accounted for. We talked casually waiting for the starter’s gun, trying our best to hide our nervousness. It doesn’t matter how fit you are, this course is going to hurt. Bad.

The gun went off and Geoff, Jim, and I surged off the line. The pace was quick, but manageable – at least for a lap or two. This race has a way of splitting up very quickly. If you get caught behind a gap your race can be over before you even get started. Jim and Geoff were staying near the front - smart positioning. I assumed my usual position, somehow managing to hang at the very back of the lead pack. I’m able to avoid getting gapped, but I’m always nervous that a gap will open ahead of me and I’ll end up in trouble.

Over the first climb, I then tucked in behind the largest rider I could find and did as little as possible on the descent. The turn on to Hagar, starting the 1 ¼ mile climb, always starts with a surge. I moved to near the front and allowed myself to drift back as the guys accelerated. They peloton usually backs off just as I near the rear of the pack, and they did it again this time. Perfect! I stayed in the lead group and expended less energy than most.

Each of the next four laps saw the pace pick up, with the forth passing in a scorching 7:12! I’m still amazed how fast we climbed that forth lap, unfortunately that was the last I saw of Geoff and Jim (actually I did see Jim one more time).

Throughout the race Scott was keeping me apprised of my position relative to the other 45+ guys ahead of me. A couple of times I had to chuckle as he urged me on with news I was only 45 seconds back. Heck, I could barely turn my cranks, let alone consider accelerating.

Up until about lap 7 I was with the main group. After that the 35+ guys started to pull the group apart. At this point I couldn’t figure out if all my competitors were around me, or up ahead with a handful of 35+ guys. Scott tried to keep me informed, but it’s a tough race to track, and I’m not sure how capable I was of understanding his updates at that point. I was in serious oxygen debt and not thinking especially clearly.

By lap 11 I was struggling with negative self talk. I wanted to quit, questioning why I do this to myself. But then, as I crested the climb near the pool, I saw Jim and his group working together. That gave me a push to keep going. As I passed, Jim gave me a cheer that carried me up the next climb.

Suffering through the next couple of laps, I wasn’t sure what to make of Scott’s update on lap 13. He said Jon Ornstil was cracking big time and if I could pass him I’d be in 6th place – good enough for a T-shirt!

I kept pushing, trying my best to ignore the pain, when Jon came into view. I was going to catch him on the flats near the pool parking lot. Perfect. The short flat section is probably the only place on this course where I have an advantage on Jon. On the descent he could sit on my wheel, he’s stronger climbing, but I’m heavier and stronger on the flats (plus he’d killed himself off the front for several laps with one of the 35+ monsters).

I mustered whatever I could and went by him too fast for him to attempt catching my wheel, it worked. I crested the summit with him no where near.

My final lap, driven by panic that some one was bound to catch me, was actually one of the most painful. But I managed to hang on for 6th place.

I’ve got a year to get ready for University ’09.

Pescadero Road Race 45+

By Mark Edwards 6/14/08

The Pescadero road race has come and gone for yet another year. Besides being a beautiful course, with better than average pavement, Pescadero was also my first ever road race back in 2004. It will always hold special meaning for me.

This year would include a couple of firsts. One, I would be a marked rider. I would have rival teams assigning riders to keep an eye on me. And two, I’d be racing with six other Bike Trip teammates. The 45+ and 55+ groups race together in this race, but are scored separately. This can make for some pretty interesting tactics and strategies as generally different groups aren’t allowed to race together.

As always, there were plenty of lessons to be learned. It’s amazing how clear hindsight is, while in the moment, I often don’t have a clue. More on that later…

VOS, Webcore, and Morgan Stanley were once again the dominant teams. My impression is that Webcore, while very strong, isn’t particularly well organized. VOS is an absolute powerhouse, and works very well together. Morgan Stanley has incredible depth, and runs their team with near military structure; they always leave a heavy footprint on a race.

John Novitsky (National Time Trial Champion) recently joined up with VOS, adding another impressive rider to an already impressive roster. As I’ve seen him do many times in races, he attacked early today. 10 miles into the race he took off with a Webcore and Morgan Stanley rider in tow. I wasn’t in position to grab their wheel, and didn’t really feel I’d be allowed to get away if I did.

The big teams watch a break-away’s makeup very closely. They want to insure that if the break-away succeeds, their man can win. Or, if he can’t win, that a key competitor isn’t represented in the break so that their team will have to do all the work to pull the break back. This allows their guys to sit in, rest, and then take the win after the chasing team has exhausted itself pulling the leaders back.

I was able to find out who the Webcore rider was and knew he couldn’t challenge for the win. This would put Webcore in the position of having to chase. But their recent history of lacking coordination suggested they wouldn’t put a chase together. I never could find out who Morgan Stanley had in the break, but it turned out to be the very strong and savvy Don Langley. There’s no way Morgan Stanley was going to pull.

So now Morgan Stanley and VOS had no reason to work, they could just sit back and let the rest of us wear ourselves out (if we wanted to race for better than 4th place that is). I tired to get a few guys to work on the descent back to town, but it was short lived. Three guys killing themselves to pull 30 guys isn’t an equation you want to be on the 3 side of.

Climbing Stage Rd for the second lap I again went to the front to try and raise the pace. Immediately Jon Ornstil and Rick Martyn of VOS appeared at my side and on my wheel. I wasn’t going anywhere without these two. I was frustrated (as these tactics are meant to do) and ramped the climbing pace up anyway. In hindsight, this may have helped my eventual placing, but it hurt my teammates as they were dropped from my initial pace - and the subsequent vicious attack 6 guys threw down just before the summit.

Highway 84 saw about 30 riders come back together, including Jim. I was cruising in the Peloton resting for the final climb, slightly puzzled by Morgan Stanley’s relentless attacks, when Jim pulled up next to me. I was glad to see him and thought I could pull him up to the lead 55+ guy after the feed zone. This would position both of us well for the final climb. But… just as I was thinking this, Jim took off up the outside.

Again the hindsight thing… Morgan Stanley, secure with Don Langley in the break, had organized all their 45+ guys around their 55+ rider. They had noticed Jim getting back on and had ramped the pace way up to put the hurt on him. Had Jim and I been more aware/experienced and communicated, we could have worked together to minimize some of Morgan Stanley’s actions. But we didn’t, so we each positioned ourselves for the final climb.

Jim’s race report is posted, so you can read how it went for him.

Morgan Stanley’s pace, and the hard climbs on Stage Rd, had whittled our group to about 30. We were also spread out nearly single file. So the sweeping right that starts Haskins Hill wasn’t as congested as usual. This allowed me to get in better position than previous years.

As we rounded the corner starting the climb the pace exploded. Immediately I saw the Webcore rider that had been part of the 3 man breakaway. He was fried, nothing left but 10 long slow minutes of pain getting to the top of the hill. ¼ mile in we were down to 15, and who came into view? John Novitsky. 2 hours hammering on the front is more than even a National Champion can do with 85 guys chasing him. As we passed him there was an attack out of our group. 15 was now 6 and the pace was scorching!

At this point I was hurting. I just hoped my companions were hurting as much. NOT! Kevin Susco threw down an attack that nearly convinced me to get off and walk right then and there. One guy went with him, and another bridged up shortly after. Leaving Carl Nielson, Rick Martyn, and myself to see just how bad we could hurt each other.

Carl set a hard pace. Carl’s better on a long climb than I am, but I’m a little quicker. Could I hang on long enough to try and beat him in a sprint? Then there was Rick, he was on my wheel and breathing really hard. But I’ve been here before, he may sound bad, but he’s typically a better climber, and faster, than me.

Carl and I traded the lead a couple times, then coming up to 200 meters I was on his wheel, Rick on mine. Carl jumped, I jumped, Rick jumped. I just barely got around Carl as Rick got around me. Good for 6th place. My best finish yet at Pescadero!

Mt. Hamilton Road Race 45+ 1,2,3

By Mark Edwards 5/25/08

“So, how’d Hamilton go for ya?” I’ve been asked several times since last Sunday. In a word…rough. I expected it to be hard, the starting field was a veritable who’s who of the 45+ super climbers, but my recent good luck had boosted my confidence.

The Mt. Hamilton road race opens with 19 miles of climbing 4,200’. Survive this and you’ll be rewarded with 43 miles of rolling (another 2,000’ of climbing), desolate, windy terrain.

We began our ascent at what seemed a moderate pace. That was until I started watching the pavement roll past my tires. Actually we we’re flying. I felt okay, but that was 5 minutes into an 80 minute climb. Soon our starting field was down to 13 and my confidence was slipping. One of the riders would slip off the back, and then fight his way back on. It was impressive to watch. On his last time to catch the field he pulled in ahead of me, then allowed a gap to open. I needed to cross that gap, but with 5 miles left to the summit, I knew that if I made it, I’d pop very soon afterwards. So I let the group slide away. I’d thought I’d be working with the #13 rider, but he blew dramatically. So it was solo for me the rest of the climb.

Earlier 3 riders had attacked and stayed off the front until the top. At which point a very impressive rider, up from So. Cal., rode away from Kevin Susco and Rick Martyn to take the KOM. Jon Ornstil had attacked the chase group and split them apart. I was too far back to see the 3 leaders, but had a front row seat to watch Jon’s total destruction of the chasers. The last of the chase group went over the summit about a minute ahead of me.

The descent, while beautiful, was dangerous. I’d been forewarned, and shortly after going over the top came across emergency crews tending to a fallen rider. I slowed way down. I was already out of contention, so why risk it? About half way down Ted Thomas had somehow fought his way back. He’d been dropped fairly early, but he’s not one to give up, he screamed down the descent to catch me.

Ted and I worked for probably about 15 miles before we caught two riders. We attempted to get the four of us working together, but it wasn’t to be. After a very frustratingly slow half hour, I attacked on the second small climb. Two riders tried to chase me down, but I went over the top with 500 meters on them.

I wasn’t sure how much farther I had to go, but it turned out to be a long way. I’m guessing it was somewhere between 12 and 15 miles.

I knew going into this race I was too heavy to compete with the best climbers, at 8.5 lbs over my ideal climbing weight. But, that same weight would benefit me now on my solo time trial to the finish. I dropped into my most aero position, shifted into a big gear, and cranked it up to around 300 watts (no power meter, but I’m pretty familiar with this power output from repeats on Branciforte). Initially I just didn’t want my former 3 ride partners to catch me, but as I finally got into a grove, I was just enjoying flying along faster than I’d thought possible.

I was reeling in riders from other categories every few minutes, rocketing around them a good 5 to 10 mph faster than they were going. It seemed the farther I went, the faster I could go. It was a blast!

I rolled across the finish in 10th place, receiving a high five from Jon Ornstil. My former partners crossed the line nearly 10 minutes after me. All that work may not have improved my placing, but I finished feeling I’d left everything on the course. I would have rather been able to hang with the climbers, but my strong finish after a very tough race was a nice consolation.

Someone please remind me next year that 8.5 lbs is worth about 1:58 on that climb...

Berkeley Hills Road Race 45+ 1,2,3

Berkeley Hills Road Race, May 11, 2008
By Mark Edwards

How on Earth do I write a race report nearly every week and not have it sound like all the weeks before? How about?…

I WON!

Hot digity dog! My feet still haven’t touched the ground. Berkeley Hills is one of the oldest and most prestigious road races around. This year they changed from a 45+ 1,2,3,4 to a 45+ 1,2,3 - bumping up the depth of strong riders in the field. (last year you might remember I flatted 5 miles from the start and never got to experience Momma Bear, Baby Bear, and Papa Bear – the 3 main climbs per lap).

Geoff and I would be racing together, while Joe and Scott would be taking on the young bucks in the 35+ Cat 4 race. After a mostly silent ride up – leaving at 5:00 AM on Mother’s Day does tend to be a bit brutal – we arrived in plenty of time to get ready and warm-up.

Our first couple of laps were for the most part uneventful, other than 3 flats caused by pot holes, one crash when the road narrowed, and a strange stopping of our group by the moto referee. Seems the Cat 4 group was approaching and the officials decided to neutralize us and let them pass. There were loud objections, but really, what else could the officials do? It was unfortunate because the surges that occur in higher category races are designed to wear down the field – it’s an intentional slowing. But, generally, the overall speed of the higher categories is faster. And, sure enough, within two miles they neutralized the Cat 4’s and we blew by fast, never to see them again.

Going into this race I was very focused on doing well. I’ve had a great season so far and really wanted to claim the top podium spot in big hard race. I knew the Morgan Stanley and Webcore teams came loaded for bear and would be watching each other. I was hoping I could assume a low profile and do as little work as possible until the final climb. I figured the race would be decided on Papa Bear, the longest and steepest climb whose summit was also the finish line.

Riding near the rear of the peloton has its risks, the weaker riders generally congregate there and tend to ride erratically. Many accidents happen near the back. But there are also some very skilled and safe riders, sprinters and others that don’t climb as well, bringing up the rear. The advantage for me was being able to watch who was strong, who was attacking, and not getting sucked into the energy sapping games happening up front.

I also really enjoy watching my teammates and other friends race, it adds a very fun component to the race experience.

As we approached the final climb I pulled up along side Geoff, I said that Jon Ornstil seemed to have been saving himself and looked like a good wheel for what promised to be a quad cramping, lung searing, near death dash up the 7% final stretch.

It wasn’t a minute later that a dozen guys attacked the base of the hill! And boy did they attack! Now, I’m a good climber, and I can climb pretty fast, but these guys hit it so hard I was nearly stunned into inaction (Geoff throttled back as he felt their acceleration was unsustainable). But I was already on the move and went with them. I knew from the first two times up Papa Bear that this climb lasts longer than you think, and almost any strategy would likely go too soon.

We weren’t half way up when all the original protagonists had faded, leaving me on the front. Not somewhere I wanted to be this soon. Besides being sure I was way too far from the finish, there was a steady headwind that made you feel as if you were riding in molasses.

What to do? Well, there wasn’t much I could do, so I put my head down and tried to nail the hardest pace I could hold to the finish, wherever the hell that was.

About 2/3rds of the way up, the finish line tent came into view, great! Except… boy did my legs hurt. I slowed, I didn’t want to, but pulling hard into the wind had clearly drained my reserves. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a Webcore rider, then another… bummer… here comes the inevitable swamping when the patient peloton over takes the bonehead who’s been pushing the wind for them. But, I’ve gotten better about looking over my shoulder at who’s coming up, and guess what? Myself and the two Webcore riders, Kevin Susco and Scott Frake, had a nice gap on the chasers.

Well… third place would be a real accomplishment in such a well known competitive race. Especially behind Kevin and Scott, my pre-race picks for likely winners.

Scott went by me with Kevin on his wheel. I knew I had to jump on Kevin’s wheel to have any chance of holding off the hungry mob nipping at our heels. But did my legs have enough in them? As Kevin went by I jumped and was pleasantly surprise to find a little life left. But, what’s happening? Kevin’s dropping off Scott’s wheel, has he popped? Is this intentional to create a gap, keeping me from challenging Scott?

Once again I summoned the engine room for more power. I came around Kevin and grabbed Scott’s wheel. Kevin didn’t seem to be able to go with me, a good sign, but could I take Scott? Scott was really laying out the torque, it was 100 yards to the finish and I’m sure he was tasting victory. What was that? Did Scott just downshift? Yes! All right! I’ve got you now.

His downshift indicated that his legs were loaded and failing to respond. It was now or never. I came out of the saddle and gave one final push. I was past him and accelerating, I cruised over the line with room to spare. Scott’s effort had left him unable to fend off Kevin who nipped him at the line for 2nd.

I had felt good the entire race, but as soon as I crossed the line and sat back down, bam! Spasms in both quadriceps, I was on the verge of cramping. I like it much better when the cramps come after the race.

Wente Road Race

Wente Road Race, April 26, 2008
By Mark Edwards

What a day! The Altamont Pass can deliver a wide range of weather, from extreme heat to chilling rain and fog. And… let’s not forget those windmills, unbelievably strong winds. But not today, today was going to be gorgeous. Mid 60’s to mid 70’s with a light westerly breeze.

Larry, Joe, Scott, Jim, and I arrived an hour before our start time, hopped on our bikes and rode over to registration. We were signed in and back to change into our race kit within minutes. As usual we were all a little apprehensive… Wente Vineyards Road Race, with a challenging hilly course, located in the heart of the Bay Area, draws a large field of very strong racers.

Joe and Scott would be racing the 45+ 4/5, Jim and Larry the 55+ 1,2,3, and I’d be in the 45+ 1,2,3. Larry and Jim’s group would start with mine, Scott’s and Joe’s fifteen minutes later. You’ll have to read their reports to find out how they did (okay, just a hint – Team Bike Trip had another successful day!).

My starting field was 73 guys, combined with the 18 55+ guys, we rolled off the start with 91 racers. 91 guys confined to a single lane can be pretty cozy. It’s tough to move around, like a very fast moving school of sardines, everything has to be done in unison - otherwise the consequences are disastrous. We were scheduled for 4+ laps (the finish is several miles past the start line) which, at 66 miles, includes climbing Altamont Pass 5 times.

The first climb was uneventful as everyone is looking around to see who appears strong. A few guys got dropped from the brisk pace, but the majority of the group stayed together. There was a crash victim from a previous group being attended to by the Fire Department on the descent; it would take two laps before they had him ready to move.

Lap two was similar to lap one. But, as we got ready to start the third climb, I pulled up next to Jim and said “hang on; I think things are going to get hot this time”. And hot up they did. Morgan Stanley had 10 competitive guys, VOS had 5, Webcore 8 or so. They each had their protected rider, the remaining teammate’s jobs were to tire out anyone who might be a threat for the win with constant attacks.

To be in this particular race you had to be a Category 1, 2, or 3 racer. To advance from a Category 4 to a 3, or 3 to 2, or 2 to 1, you have to do a bunch of races and place very high (or win) several races against lots of other really fit, really motivated serious racers. My race included a World Champion, a National Champion, a US Professional Champion, and many other accomplished racers.

So, when I say things heated up, I’m not kidding. What had been a group of about 80 was down to 40 in about 3 minutes. Thankfully, I was feeling surprisingly comfortable considering the labored breathing going on around me. It wasn’t that my legs and lungs weren’t complaining, but I got the sense lots of guys felt a lot worse.

The forth time up the Altamont was similar to the third, fast and hard, but this time only a few guys popped off the back. These are the moments where you have to have faith in your training. It can feel like you’re faltering while everyone else looks strong. So, with my faith in hand, I took a few pulls at the front as we climbed the rollers south of Hwy 580. Not super hard, but hard enough to keep anybody from resting.

As we neared the base of the descent I was considering attacking the group. I was hoping to get away with one or two other racers working together to hold off the pack until the finish. It seemed a long shot, but you don’t know if you don’t try. Just before the right hand turn on to the long flat stretch leading to the final climb, Mark Caldwell attacked off the front and got a gap. Great! Mark knows I’m strong and might be willing to work with me. So I countered his attack and bridged up to him. I went by him hoping he’d hop on my wheel, but not today. Mark’s a former Pro and often uses various tactics to weaken the field. One is attacking just to draw others out and zap their energy reserves. He then drops back into the group and rests. He got me this time.

We were probably 6 miles from the final climb and 7 from the finish at this point. The game of cat and mouse was about to begin. A little early, but you can’t risk someone escaping off the front, you’ve got to watch every move very carefully. Jon Ornstil, Jan Elsbach, and a couple of others took turns attacking. We’d give them a little rope, and then someone would get worried and chase them down. I’d wait for the 2nd or 3rd nervous chaser, hop on their wheel, let them pull me up near the break away and counter attack. Again hoping the original attacker would go with me when I got there. But it never seemed to work out. Either they were too tired by the time I got there, or they weren’t really interested in making a run for it.

Once we turned off the flat section the attacks stopped. It’s a gentle climb of about two miles up to the steep climb and everyone was trying to rest and get in position for the final assault to the finish. We made the right turn that starts the final mile climb and it was like a gun going off! Scott Frake of Webcore (a favorite going in) took off. Jan Elsbach, always the fighter, was in pursuit. Ted Thomas was hot on Jan’s heels and looking very strong. Behind them, 30 of the best Master’s racers on the West Coast were chomping at their bits. I was near the front and saw Ted accelerate and overtake Scott, we were ½ way up the hill and Ted looked strong. Scott hadn’t given up, and Jan appeared to be waiting in the wings.

There’s a false flat just before the final little rise to the finish line that has lulled many a racer into starting his sprint too soon. Ted’s powerful attack seemed to be running out of steam. Jan seized the opportunity and attacked around Ted. Was he going too soon? I was on Jan’s wheel and hoped he wouldn’t blow before the finish, leaving me blocking the wind for a dozen hungry racers sitting on my wheel.

Jan’s strong but he jumped early, at about 100 meters from the finish I felt him weaken. Crap! Normally 100 meters would be a great distance to sprint, but after climbing all out for a mile, the legs don’t have much sprint left in them. In fact, you’re never quite sure if they’ll even support your weight at this point, let alone accelerate uphill into a wind.

I was too close to the finish to wait and grab another wheel for protection, so I jumped to Jan’s right. That put me into the view of the spectators at the finish. Scott and Joe’s cheering cut right through the crowd, boosting my motivation. Immediately the guy behind me, Eric Saltzman (one of the two remaining Morgan Stanley guys), jumped to my right. It was a drag race. I knew I could take Jan, but Eric cut it close and bumped me hard. We all threw our bikes, and finished Eric 1st, me 2nd, and Jan 3rd, just inches apart.

What a race! What a finish!