Suffer-o-rama

Yesterday I did my usual sunday ride when it’s Everest Challenge training time- about 55 miles and 6800′ of climbing. Near the end of the ride I go up highway 9. “Teh 9″ is a very popular motorcycling road. I don’t mind sharing the road with motorcycles, and I enjoy seeing interesting ones (twins, vintage, and especially two-strokes. In-line four cylinder sport bikes, which are the majority, bore me).

Even with the new lower speed limit, heavy patrolling and double botts-dots on the center line, it’s a racer road. The shoulders are littered with sport bike debris from the frequent crashes. One of my big fears on this road is getting taken out by a crashing motorcycle.

As I was approaching a tight 20 mph hairpin near the top some sport bikes went by. The first one tucked his front end but saved it. The next guy went down right behind me. I heard his bike skittering along the pavement and turned to see it slide by me. I slowed and it came to a stop about two feet away. I stopped, leaned my bike against the guardrail and asked the rider if he was ok. He was- it was low speed and he was wearing full racing leathers. I stopped traffic while he and his buddy picked the bike up and pushed it to the shoulder. I talked to the guys for a while trying to discern if the rider was thinking straight- sometimes after a crash all the adrenalin will make you stupid. While we were there another group of riders went by and one of them crashed too. He was also ok although he nearly was run down by the rider behind him who did the classic thing of fixating on the rider that’s sliding on the road, not on the path you need to take to go around him.

After determining that everyone was ok I got out of there before more bikes crashed. As I neared the summit I could make out a slime trail on the road. It got heavier and heavier until it ended under a crappy blue Ford van parked at the top of the climb. I wonder how many crashes he caused yesterday?

ericm training rides

Yesterday I did my usual sunday ride when it’s Everest Challenge training time- about 55 miles and 6800′ of climbing. Near the end of the ride I go up highway 9. “Teh 9″ is a very popular motorcycling road. I don’t mind sharing the road with motorcycles, and I enjoy seeing interesting ones (twins, vintage, and especially two-strokes. In-line four cylinder sport bikes, which are the majority, bore me).

Even with the new lower speed limit, heavy patrolling and double botts-dots on the center line, it’s a racer road. The shoulders are littered with sport bike debris from the frequent crashes. One of my big fears on this road is getting taken out by a crashing motorcycle.

As I was approaching a tight 20 mph hairpin near the top some sport bikes went by. The first one tucked his front end but saved it. The next guy went down right behind me. I heard his bike skittering along the pavement and turned to see it slide by me. I slowed and it came to a stop about two feet away. I stopped, leaned my bike against the guardrail and asked the rider if he was ok. He was- it was low speed and he was wearing full racing leathers. I stopped traffic while he and his buddy picked the bike up and pushed it to the shoulder. I talked to the guys for a while trying to discern if the rider was thinking straight- sometimes after a crash all the adrenalin will make you stupid. While we were there another group of riders went by and one of them crashed too. He was also ok although he nearly was run down by the rider behind him who did the classic thing of fixating on the rider that’s sliding on the road, not on the path you need to take to go around him.

After determining that everyone was ok I got out of there before more bikes crashed. As I neared the summit I could make out a slime trail on the road. It got heavier and heavier until it ended under a crappy blue Ford van parked at the top of the climb. I wonder how many crashes he caused yesterday?

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8/8/2010
About 45 miles and 4500′ of climbing
Master 45 cat 4
20th of 39

Patterson has a good climb on each lap (the old and slow race did two), a smaller 8 minute climb, and a long flat/downhill section. The wind is a big factor here- Altamont Pass is wind farm country. Last year the wind was reversed, so there was a tailwind up the climb and a headwind on the flat part. This year the wind was normal. I made it up the climb without too much trouble and managed to hang in on the second climb when the pace got much harder and a lead group of 12 or so went clear. That part is where I got gapped last year, so I was happy to make it. On the descent my team-mate Holger, who had been one of the guys pushing the pace, went off the road on a sharp corner when his carbon wheels didn’t brake like he was expecting. But he just went up a handy driveway and only lost a few seconds. On his way back to the group he passed me and getting on his wheel helped me get back on.

Then on the flat tailwind part, I got dropped! I just didn’t have high enough gears. 50×12 has been good enough for years. I can spin that up to 40 mph, but normally I only need to do that for 20 seconds to get onto someone’s wheel on a descent. Here we had a good 15 minutes of it. My legs were already hurting from the effort to make the split and they just wouldn’t go that fast for that long. I got dropped, then the group slowed and I was almost back on when they sped up again and my legs cracked. Then the chase group came by, I worked with them for a few minutes before my legs just gave up. I rode the second lap by myself, passing a couple guys and getting passed by one on the flat tailwind part again.

Next year I will bring an 11t cog.

Holger wound up 5th from a small group sprint.

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Spent the morning doing hill repeats on Mt Hamilton with a couple faster team-mates. 60 miles and 8700′ of climbing. There’s no way I can keep up with Bo, a cat 1 mutant, but I can sort of keep up with Bryan when he’s not trying to keep up with Bo. Which really means that I can ride with him when he’s not feeling well. But I was able to be pretty consistent with my power output, doing 3.6w/kg for the all but the last 2000′ climb where I faded a bit but only to to 3.45 w/kg. Much better than the 3.2 I did on the last climb of last week’s set of Diablo repeats. It feels like my recovery is really improving- I’m near the end of a two week block and last week I climbed 29,000 feet. Today my legs hurt, especially on the last climb, but tonight I’m feeling ok, not totally beat down like usual.

On the way down the mountain a heliocopter snuck up on me and startled me. I didn’t hear anything at all, then whoom! he was right over me. Down the road a bit we were stopped by a park ranger who told us that there’d been a motorcycle crash. Then the copter lander- it was a lifeflight air ambulance. The ranger told us that the rider was in pretty bad shape but “should live”. Poor gal- she’d pulled over for the motorcycles to pass and then one of them stacked it so she was the first on the scene. Hamilton is a really advanced motorcycling road- it’s narrow, very twisty, and very bumpy. And there’s random potholes, pavement cracks and rocks and sand in some of the corners. You really have to know what you’re doing there.

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Markleeville Death Ride 7/10/10

Total time: 9:09
Riding time: 8:28

Unlike some previous Death Rides I didn’t have much in the way of goals for this one other than staying ahead of my really fast teammates who were starting behind me.

I had my usual pre-DR mechanical problems. A couple weeks ago the cranks on my Cervelo started making ominous clicking noises like the splines were worn out. They’re old FSA carbon ISIS cranks and I’ve gotten my money’s worth on them so I splurged on some spiffy weight weenie Lightning cranks. I rode them the weekend before and found out that one pedal hole was off at an angle. I thought about riding them anyhow but my knee was hurting from the motion, so I sent them back.

And then I found a crack on my PedalForce frame. So the backup bike is out.

I’d bought some Locktite 641 from McMaster-Carr. I needed to fill out an order that included the special soft jaw pliers used to remove the Lightning BB cups. 641 is what FSA recommends for some of their cranks so I figured I’d try it on mine. It worked, so I had a bike to ride. I don’t know why I have mechanical issues before (or during) the DR but I’d rather they happen there than at a race.

I got to Turtle Rock Park the day before and discovered that I’d forgotten my DR ticket. Since I’d bought it from another rider the DR people had no record of it. So rather than wait for the official post-reg sale of unclaimed tickets, I bought one off a guy who I overheard asking his buddies how to sell an extra ticket. That bit of stupidity cost me an extra $100. Excuse me while I go add “TICKET, YOU IDIOT!!!” to my checklist.

I started the ride at 5:30 like usual. For the first couple climbs (both sides of Monitor pass) I was flying. This time I was using my power meter and set my pace off it more than heart rate or feel. The pace I was going was pretty fast compared to the riders around me, only two passed me on the first two passes and I passed about 2000. I didn’t stop at the first stop and only stopped to pee at the second. I had a bunch of food in my jersey pockets and I wasn’t going through water very fast (which turned out to have been a mistake).

On the flatter lower part of Ebbetts pass I rode for a while with a guide from Terry’s UCDtours outfit, and talked with him about how they’re doing. I did a couple rides with them a few years ago and it was good to hear that they’ve grown a lot since then. Once we got to the climb proper I rode away from him. Near the top my legs started hurting and I slowed down a bit.

Down the descent in to Hermit valley and I stopped at the turnaround to fill a bottle.. At this point I’d filled up 2.5 bottles and I started with two full bottles, so I’d drunk about a bottle an hour. That’s fine for a five hour ride but not for an eight hour ride in the heat.

I rode a little slower still on the climb up the west side of Ebbetts. By now I was ahead of most riders, only the faster ones were with me. The descent of the east side of Ebbets is my favorite, but with thousands of riders ascending on the other side and sometimes both sides it’s just not safe to really fly down it. This time where was a guy who had laid his bike across the descending side of the road.

I skipped lunch at the lunch stop, figuring that my rice cakes were doing me pretty well.

On the flat drag up the valley towards Markleeville I sat in on some faster guys for a while. After I dropped off on the hill into town I caught a couple other guys. One made a deal to work with me, but he let me pull all the way up the climb to Turtle Rock Park. It’s not a race so I didn’t care. I stopped at the van at TRP to pick up another rice cake, a bottle of HEED and a caffeinated gel.

At the next rest stop at Woodfords there were only a few riders and plenty of volunteers. I let one hold my bike while I grabbed a piece of watermelon and another filled my bottle.

The climb up Carson from Woodfords is tough- it’s hot and there’s usually a headwind. The wind was pretty stiff this time, but sometimes the local hills would turn it around and make it a tailwind. I worked with a few riders but dropped them all except one guy. I asked him to work on the short flat part but went back to the front as soon as we went back to climbing. My legs hurt and I wanted to go a consistent pace.

No riders were at the Picketts stop halfway up Carson. I’ve never been this far up in the event. Usually there are riders coming down when I start up Carson but not this time. The fast guys don’t stop at the rest stop either. I did- I’d wanted a bottle full of ice water at Woodfords but got regular water, and I thought I’d try again. It took a while but they did find some ice for me. I even tried to pee but nothing came out. I knew I was a bit dehydrated but I didn’t think it was that bad. It was.

After Picketts there’s some flat sections before the last climb up to the top. And I just couldn’t make any power on the flat parts. My legs and stomach felt bad. I was thirsty but I had a lot of water in my stomach. I took some more salt pills but those take a while to take effect.

When the climbing started again so did the headwind. It got pretty strong, to the point that I was crawling up the road in my lowest gear. About a mile from the top my teammate Holger passed me. He’d started almost an hour later. He’s disgustingly fast, especially for someone who started riding only a year ago. I was feeling especially bad by this point and getting passed only made me feel worse. I struggled through the last bit into a stupidly strong headwind and over the pass to the rest stop at the top.

There I got some food (mostly watermelon) and they even had good ice cream and were keeping it really cold. Yum! I sat around enjoying my ice cream for about 15 minutes. My stomach still wasn’t happy and I felt pretty thirsty.

Rest over, I took off back down the climb. I stupidly let a truck pulling a giant travel trailer in front of me, and they drug their brakes down the steep part of Carson. So I had to go slow and breath brake smoke for the best part of the descent. On the flat parts I still had no power. There was obviously something wrong with me, so I didn’t push it. The four flat/uphill miles from Woodfords to TRP seemed to take forever. (and looking at my data, I spent at least 15 minutes longer there than in past DRs).

On the drive home I was obsessed with getting a large bottle of cold mineral water. I stopped at every convenience store in the mountains but no one up there carries it. But I drank about a gallon of regular water, fruit juice, and soda water. And then the next morning I still weighed about three pounds less than normal. So I think I was pretty dehydrated.

You’d think that after eight Death Rides not to mention a bunch of other endurance rides, I’d have basics like drinking figured out. But even though my mouth was dry, I didn’t feel all that thirsty during the ride.

I actually hit the lap button correctly this time! Here’s the splits. They include time stopped, which wasn’t long except at the top of Carson (~15 minutes). Total calories burned: 4700.

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6/12 & 6/13 2010
M45
No Team-mates
9th of 11.. or maybe 8th. Results not posted yet.

This race should have had my name all over it- it’s the most climbing per mile of any race in North America. First day is 42 miles over Death Valley rd from Big Pine- a 3800′ climb, down the other side, and back up a 4000′ climb. Second day is only 14 miles but has 5000′ of climbing up to Onion Valley. That road has the steepest 10 miles in the lower 48 states.

Unfortunately I got sick the week before the race. Nothing serious, just a cold, but it made feel like crap. I went anyhow because I really wanted to ride Onion Valley. I hoped that I’d feel better for the race.

On the first day I swapped my aero carbon wheels for regular ones because the wind was so strong. Aero wheels are faster on the descent but if you’re having to slow down in case you get blown across the road they’ll be slower. I’d been blown about quite a bit on the previous afternoon’s warmup ride and didn’t want to chance it.

They started us in a single group of about 50, lined up by category. The P/1/2s drove the pace and it got hard for me much too soon. Normally on these kinds of races when I drop off what’s left of the lead group I continue catching racers but this time more were catching me. Especially when I had to slow down to cough up gunk. By halfway up I’d settled into a pace suited to a longer event or my slower than usual state, and had accumulated a group who liked that pace and were happy to have a wheel to follow. The clouds came over and it got pretty cold, making me regret leaving the vest and arm warmers in the car.

Having a group meant someone to work with on the descent. The first part was a long gradual descent which was good for working with a group especially as there was a headwind. Some of the racers didn’t know how to rotate through and I had to show them a couple times. Once it got steeper we dropped some of the more cautious descenders.

The scenery was fantastic- bare craggy mountains in weird volcanic colors fading into huge alluvial fans. Serious desert stuff as we entered the northwest corner of Death Valley. The pavement ended at the bottom of the alluvial fan and we turned around into a vicious head/cross wind. I sheltered behind the one guy left and tried to make some headway. This part really sucked for me and we got caught by most of the group, including a junior and a woman who dropped us once the road tipped up and we got out of the wind.

A couple guys were just sitting on my wheel and I was feeling a bit better so I dropped them with a couple surges. Then 20 minutes later I felt like crap again and they caught and passed me. That’s how we finished. It was a cold ride down to the cars, even with the plastic trash bag I begged from the organizer.

I refueled and rested at the motel and spent the evening coughing up gunk. I could only eat half a small pizza. How often do I only eat part of a small pizza? Never.

On the next day I felt better. I looked at the finishing times from day one and found that I was in 9th, 15 minutes ahead of the next rider and 6 behind the guy ahead of me. So I couldn’t do much about my placing. Not that I cared much as 9th of 11 is not that exciting. I was just going to ride, not race. I’ve been wanting to climb Onion Valley for a few years. It’s got the steepest 10 miles in north American and the pictures I seen have been stunning.

The race started out pretty easy as the P/1/2s did not lift the pace right away. One guy went off the front but it was clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. After the first couple miles of easy 6-7% we got to the steep part (i.e. the rest of the climb) and the group slowly spit up.

This time I was catching riders instead of being caught. One guy kept muttering “crap!” “shit!” to himself. He’d surge past me then fade and I’d pass him back. Then he came by riding way forward on the nose of his saddle (to use different muscles). I passed him and didn’t see him again after that. Farther up I caught a couple cat 4s who were chatting. This irritated me… it’s supposed to be a race dammit. I got a ways in front of them and I could hear them talking about me. It sounded like they didn’t think I’d be able to stay in front of them. And indeed one of them (Steve Catena) came by. We slowly caught another racer who also came back after I passed him. At the 1km to go sign I stepped up the effort and caught that guy, then at 200k I sprinted and passed Catena. I had plenty left, I could have gone a lot harder.

The finish was in this beautiful alpine bowl. I got my jacket from the clothing truck and hung around in the sun, eating some food and trying to stay warm. I got bored waiting for the results and I wasn’t going to be highly placed anyhow, so I rode down.

The descent is pretty fun and not at all scary other than the wind pushing you around on some of the hairpins.

This race was definitely worth doing even though I was riding poorly. If I’d ridden the regular cat 4s I’d have done much better- there were a lot of really good guys in the 45s.

Oh, a story: at the start a guy from town wandered by and stopped to look at the bikes. I thought he was the town drunk- bowl cut hair, flannel shirt, greasy jeans. Then I saw him drive by in a crappy old Ford pickup. The Ford was parked on Onion Valley a couple miles outside of town. About 3/4 up I passed Town Drunk- he’d ridden a bike up our very steep race course to watch us go by. He showed up at the finish too. His bike that looked like it had been time-warped straight from 1968. It was a good bike from then, a Bob Jackson. The guy wasn’t that slow on it either. I wonder what his story is?

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5/30/10
M35 cat 4
40th of 75

Another mediocre race result for me, although team-mates Oddvar and Holger got first and second, and Brian sixth.

This race climbs Mt Hamilton (about 4000′ of climbing), descends the back then continues around to Livermore. Then there’s a couple smaller climbs, lots of rolling terrain, some flat but twisty parts, and a couple descents. The day was the first really hot one after a cold winter and spring.

I’ve had nothing but really bad rides over Mt Ham to Livermore in the last two years so I didn’t have much hope for this race and approached it accordingly- I raced with my training wheels, did a three hour ride the day before, and lined up late and didn’t worry too much that I was in the back of the group. The one smart thing I did was to give a bottle to my friend Kevin who was feeding for his wife in the W35+ race.

Once we started the field was very bunched up with 100 cat 4s bumping into each other. Someone bumped me hard and sent me into a another rider but I managed to stay upright.

About three miles into the race I broke a spoke on my rear wheel. I could look down while riding and saw that the wheel wasn’t too out of true, and the broken spoke was staying put and 4 flopping about. I backed off the brake adjuster so the brake wouldn’t rub.

Less than halfway up the climb the leaders sped up and I was dropped- my legs just didn’t want to go. I continued at my own pace and caught some riders. I caught some more near the top and hooked up on the descent. The neutral water feed zone was welcome but there were a lot of partially full bottles discarded just past it.

After that my group caught a guy who thought he was gods gift to descenders. Whenever the road turned down he’d cut way over on the first left turn to get a gap from those of us who were adhering to the centerline rule, then bomb the descent. He was good but not that much faster than me once you took away the centerline violation. We’d catch back up on the next climb.

As the race went on I felt less bad and worked to keep the group rolling along, setting the pace on the climbs and working in the rotation on the flat. When we got to the San Antonio valley my legs cramped up. I’d felt that something was wrong and I had a mouth full of Endurolytes when it happened. I tried to not let on to the group that something was wrong as I sat up and stretched out while they rode off. I swallowed my Endurolytes and sprinted to get back on.

At the feed zone the neutral feed workers told us to drop our empties and said water was up the road, but it wasn’t. However Kevin was there and craftily hid the bottle so it wouldn’t get grabbed by someone else (he’s done this a few times). He stuck it out at the last momement and the guy in front of me grabbed for it, Kevin pulled back and still managed to deliver it to me. I explained to the guy that it was a personal feed so there’d be no hard feelings.

A half hour later a moto ref came up and told us the cat 4s were coming by. Some of them had no water left, and one dropped off the group to try to bum some off us. But we were pretty low too, except for me. I had a half bottle that I didn’t think I’d need, so I offered it to one of the guys who had been working hard in our group and had none at all.

When we got close to the finish we had about 10 guys. God’s gift took off on the last descent and only me and one other guy could follow. I was a bit too cautious on it, having a memory of a surprise decreasing radius turn there so I got gapped off those two and couldn’t quite make it up by the finish.

It was only a sprint for 38th place so it’s not like it was a big deal.

Mt Ham is an awesome course and now I’m sorry that I didn’t take the race seriously. Especially after having to listen to Brian and Oddvar describe what it was like at the front (Oddvar soloed from a long ways away for the win). I need to actually try to do something if I want to have some results.

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It’s nearly the middle of May, and its still winter. Today’s ride started at 36 degrees. In California. What the heck? It’s not supposed to be that cold in May here. March, sure, it’s cold then. But by May we should have had a couple 90 degree days. We shouldn’t still be getting sub 40s temperatures. Bleah!

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I’ve had a pretty crappy spring, racing wise. For some reason I am slow and tired a lot of the time, and (duh!) it’s affected my racing and training. But enough whinging, lets get right to the abject humiliation:

3/30/10 Copperopolis RR M45 cat 4 16 of 16 finishers.
Yep, dead last (of the finishers. a few guys quit). Copperopolis has a lot of different fields, with 1/2/3, 4 and cat 5 for the masters 45, the fastest growing age group in NorCal racing. The 45 4s was so large they split us into two groups, A and B. I wasn’t going to do this race because I felt like crap and because every time I have done it I have vowed to never come back. The climb is short and steep and variable, more like two power climbs stuck together than the long endless grind type that I like. There’s a lot of riding in cross winds and head winds, which I suck at, and some more short steep kicker hllls after the windy section which always seem to be my undoing. Then there’s the pavement. It ranges from pretty good to truly terrible, and most is the latter. Did I mention that it was cold and windy? I don’t like cold and wind.

But I saw that there were three teamates on the signup list for the 45 4B field so I signed up hoping that even if I was on a bad day I could help a teamate out. But I was wrong- on the first time up the climb I was already in trouble. I rode around with teamate Allen and a couple other guys until I got gapped on one of those kicker climbs after the windy section, then rode the second lap on my own. I rode a while with a p/1/2 on his 5th lap. I mistook him for a junior, how embarrassing.

The only good thing from the whole day, besides being on a bike which is always good even when it sucks, was that I figured out the tire pressure to run- 90 psi front, 95 rear. The ride was not bad even on the worst of the pavement.

4/24/10 Wente Road Race, M45 4/5, 32 of 75
I have enjoyed Wente in the past. Its on roads I know and is hilly enough to cause a selection. But for some reason on this day I could not move up in the pack. The field was large and generally slow, filling the entire lane (center line rule strictly enforced). I started at the back and stayed there almost the whole race. I’d pass a bunch of guys on the hill each lap and most would catch up during the rest of the lap, swelling the field again. Each time on the descents I’d get filtered to the back as I left just a little more room around me than I should have and guys would take it. Coming to the hill the second to last time I went up to the front (finally!) and got in about 10 riders back, only to have half the field do the same thing and shuffle me back to the back again. That time the climb was especially fast and I got gapped but rode my own pace and worked with some other guys to get back on. At that point I knew it was going to be a sprint up the climb to the line and I suck at that sort of three minute effort so I didn’t bother to even try to keep position. I just wanted to stay with the pack to the climb. It turns out that about half the field had been dropped and I was (barely) with the non-dropped guys, so at least I accomplished that.

ericm races

Orosi RR
3/20/2010
M45 4/5
8th of ~26

Saturday was the Orosi road race, one of the hardest races in the district.

The organizers ran the 55+ race with our 45+ 4/5 race, swelling what was already the largest field in the race and changing the dynamics quite a bit. The course is two laps of a 26 mile loop which has one uneven 1600′ climb, a couple shorter climbs, a lot of large rolling hills, lots of bad pavement, pot holes, sand and gravel, one screaming fast technical descent, and 5 miles of flat per lap.

On the first time up the climb a number of 55s went to the front and set a fast but not too fast pace. No one wanted to pull but the pack didn’t shatter like usual. We had about 20 riders (half the field) left by the top, and a bunch more came back over the course of the lap. So I knew the second trip up would be hard.

Approaching the climb and the start of the second lap I rolled off the front and thought about breaking away but I wanted to be with a small group after the climb. I went to the front and set a pace that was hard but livable for me. About 7 guys went by but I got to the top with a group of 8 or so on my wheel. The 55s in the group tried to get us organized to chase but some of us were tired. My legs had that about to cramp feeling. We did catch one guy and lost a few out the back.

I came off the back at one point, and I hurt so much that I gave up for about 30 seconds. But I could see that the group slowed a bit, so I toughened up and worked for a bit and then bombed a short descent to get back on.

On the big descent I made sure to be near the front and not behind the poor descenders in the group so I wouldn’t get gapped. I went pretty fast down it. At the bottom the strongest of the 55s came by and said “we have a gap, lets go!”. I took a pull, moved over and my hamstrings cramped hard. I had to let the group go while I worked them out. Then I was stuck by myself for a flat 5 miles, the worst nightmare for a skinny climber. I had to go fast enough that I would not get caught. I managed it (the rider behind me was my teamate Holger, who is a much stronger rider, and he was a still couple minutes back at the finish).

I finished 8th in the 45s.

I’m happy that I finished that well. It’s the highest placing I have had in a non hillclimb race. But I am disappointed that I didn’t get to sprint it out with the group and maybe pick up a place or two.

We tried out a new chip timing system, and the results are interesting. I was only a minute back of the last of the riders from the chase group. The first of those guys was only a minute back of the two 45 4/5 leaders.

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