I've just gotten word that Carrie Edwards came in second in the Transrockies TR3 3-day race!
Awesome.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
From depths to heights...and back again
This weekend was the annual Howell Mountain Challenge. It's a race run over many of the same trails as the Napa Valley Dirt Classic, but run as a lap race, rather than one big loop. My race last year was, well, sucky. I've been riding really well these last couple weeks, though, and this is pretty much the last mountain bike race before cross season starts, so I thought I'd give it a bash. Plus, hey, Sport Singlespeed class!
In my time-honored tradition of carefully preparing for mountain bike races, I spent the day before doing trail work in San Francisco's McLaren Park. They crew I worked with created a brand new section of trail basically from virgin woodland. It was tremendously satisfying, and I can't wait to ride that piece of trail. However, digging dirt and carrying rocks around all day is not the best prep for a mountain bike race.
I woke up with a sore knee and pretty dead legs, and cast about desperately for an excuse to skip the race. None being readily at hand, I picked up my teammate Angel and headed up to Napa for the race. Angel'd never ridden the race, and I filled her in on some of the salient features of the course.
We got there in plenty good time, and spent some nervous energy spinning around the track to warm up. Morgan Fletcher and Mike Hartlaub were there to round out the Sheila Moon crew, along with plenty of our friends from Roaring Mouse and Team Wrong Way.
As usual, they started us in waves, and at the whistle my group (the Sport men categories, basically) hammered up the paved road to the singletrack bottleneck. I saw one singlespeeder get ahead, and then for the next few miles, I held my own. The first part of the lap is pretty twisty, and all the time I've been spending on the Pine Mountain paid off, as I was able to wrestle the big beast almost flawlessly through even the tightest of corners, holding my place in the conga line (and occasionally passing), even as I struggled to turn the pedals slowly enough to not whack into the guys spinning away in their grannies.
A couple miles in to the first lap the guy in front of me bobbled as someone was trying to pass, and a half dozen guys came by, including at least two single speeders, one of whom was my friend and former team mate John Blackwell. I stuck on Johns wheel for the next few miles, and eventually passed both him and the other guy who'd gotten past me.
With the exception of the one very steep section that almost everybody hiked, I was able to ride most of the rest of the lap, managing somehow to keep enough traction despite the loose conditions on a few of the climbs. I felt pretty good, considering the state of my legs, and although I'd lost track of how many folks in my class were ahead of me, I knew there were at least a half-dozen or so behind, so I was doing OK. I knew there were a couple ahead of me, though, because I could see them as we slogged up a climb that I only could think of as the Single Speed Trail of Tears: a long climb that was just gradual enough to make it hard to stand up and really stomp up the hill, but steep enough that sitting through it hurt a lot. I was at the end of a line of five or so singlespeeders (male and female), and nobody was making much headway over anyone else.
The most memorable feature of the course is the Whoops, three closely-spaced rocky gullies near the end of each lap. They are all ridable, but require a certain amount of fearlessness in the approach to maintain enough speed to get up the other side (Murphy shot a few clips of the gullies last year). As I hit these on the first lap, I realized I had not warned Angel about them, proving I'm not the best course scout around.
At the beginning of my second lap, I had my only mishap of the day. The course turned into the woods on a very loose downhill. The ground was so torn up that the riders ahead were raising huge amounts of dust. I made the mistake of trying to peer through the clouds to steer down the hill, and managed to wash out. Fortunately, I was able to unclip on the down side, and kept the bike between me and the ground.
The rest of the second lap was pretty uneventful. Again I was able to ride almost every climb, and passed a couple single speeders on the steeper ones. As I hit the Trail of Tears, I saw one of my rivals dangling twenty or thirty seconds ahead. Unfortunately, I couldn't coax any additional effort out of my legs to close the gap. As I hit the last quarter mile till the end, I could see someone closing fast behind me. I didn't know whether he was riding geared or singlespeed, but I hoped the former, since he was closing pretty damn fast on the flats.
The race ends with 3/4 of a lap of an asphalt running track, and once I rounded the first turn there, I looked back to see if I could see whether I had to worry about the guy behind me. As I looked over my right shoulder for him, he wailed past me on the left. I was relieved to see he was running gears, and was in fact Peter who I know from SF Urban Riders.
As I waited for Angel to finish the organizers posted preliminary results. I was shocked to discover that I'd not only knocked off 19 minutes from the previous year's time, but had come in third in my category!
I've never had the opportunity to stand on a podium before, so I was a little unprepared when my time came, as you can see:
My high came pretty quickly to an end, however, when my car broke down on the Bay Bridge on the way home.
In my time-honored tradition of carefully preparing for mountain bike races, I spent the day before doing trail work in San Francisco's McLaren Park. They crew I worked with created a brand new section of trail basically from virgin woodland. It was tremendously satisfying, and I can't wait to ride that piece of trail. However, digging dirt and carrying rocks around all day is not the best prep for a mountain bike race.
I woke up with a sore knee and pretty dead legs, and cast about desperately for an excuse to skip the race. None being readily at hand, I picked up my teammate Angel and headed up to Napa for the race. Angel'd never ridden the race, and I filled her in on some of the salient features of the course.
We got there in plenty good time, and spent some nervous energy spinning around the track to warm up. Morgan Fletcher and Mike Hartlaub were there to round out the Sheila Moon crew, along with plenty of our friends from Roaring Mouse and Team Wrong Way.
As usual, they started us in waves, and at the whistle my group (the Sport men categories, basically) hammered up the paved road to the singletrack bottleneck. I saw one singlespeeder get ahead, and then for the next few miles, I held my own. The first part of the lap is pretty twisty, and all the time I've been spending on the Pine Mountain paid off, as I was able to wrestle the big beast almost flawlessly through even the tightest of corners, holding my place in the conga line (and occasionally passing), even as I struggled to turn the pedals slowly enough to not whack into the guys spinning away in their grannies.
A couple miles in to the first lap the guy in front of me bobbled as someone was trying to pass, and a half dozen guys came by, including at least two single speeders, one of whom was my friend and former team mate John Blackwell. I stuck on Johns wheel for the next few miles, and eventually passed both him and the other guy who'd gotten past me.
With the exception of the one very steep section that almost everybody hiked, I was able to ride most of the rest of the lap, managing somehow to keep enough traction despite the loose conditions on a few of the climbs. I felt pretty good, considering the state of my legs, and although I'd lost track of how many folks in my class were ahead of me, I knew there were at least a half-dozen or so behind, so I was doing OK. I knew there were a couple ahead of me, though, because I could see them as we slogged up a climb that I only could think of as the Single Speed Trail of Tears: a long climb that was just gradual enough to make it hard to stand up and really stomp up the hill, but steep enough that sitting through it hurt a lot. I was at the end of a line of five or so singlespeeders (male and female), and nobody was making much headway over anyone else.
The most memorable feature of the course is the Whoops, three closely-spaced rocky gullies near the end of each lap. They are all ridable, but require a certain amount of fearlessness in the approach to maintain enough speed to get up the other side (Murphy shot a few clips of the gullies last year). As I hit these on the first lap, I realized I had not warned Angel about them, proving I'm not the best course scout around.
At the beginning of my second lap, I had my only mishap of the day. The course turned into the woods on a very loose downhill. The ground was so torn up that the riders ahead were raising huge amounts of dust. I made the mistake of trying to peer through the clouds to steer down the hill, and managed to wash out. Fortunately, I was able to unclip on the down side, and kept the bike between me and the ground.
The rest of the second lap was pretty uneventful. Again I was able to ride almost every climb, and passed a couple single speeders on the steeper ones. As I hit the Trail of Tears, I saw one of my rivals dangling twenty or thirty seconds ahead. Unfortunately, I couldn't coax any additional effort out of my legs to close the gap. As I hit the last quarter mile till the end, I could see someone closing fast behind me. I didn't know whether he was riding geared or singlespeed, but I hoped the former, since he was closing pretty damn fast on the flats.
The race ends with 3/4 of a lap of an asphalt running track, and once I rounded the first turn there, I looked back to see if I could see whether I had to worry about the guy behind me. As I looked over my right shoulder for him, he wailed past me on the left. I was relieved to see he was running gears, and was in fact Peter who I know from SF Urban Riders.
As I waited for Angel to finish the organizers posted preliminary results. I was shocked to discover that I'd not only knocked off 19 minutes from the previous year's time, but had come in third in my category!
I've never had the opportunity to stand on a podium before, so I was a little unprepared when my time came, as you can see:
My high came pretty quickly to an end, however, when my car broke down on the Bay Bridge on the way home.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Say goodbye, say hello
It's not the only change in team members we've had recently (and we'll be updating our reader(s) on our new teammates as cross season approaches), but a couple notes.
The mighty Sam Bell, last year's Best New Rider, has oddly decided to put her education above amateur bike racing and has absconded to Adelaide, Australia totake cute pictures get a degree in underwater Archaeology.
We'll certainly miss her, of course, but wish her the best with her new furry friends...
All is not lost, however, with our recruitment of Angel Gabarino (who was Krishna's partner at So No Mas). Angel is an accomplished adventure racer, and her race reports make mine look like tweets (although, of course, her races last 72 hours, so there's a lot to write about).
Welcome Angel!
The mighty Sam Bell, last year's Best New Rider, has oddly decided to put her education above amateur bike racing and has absconded to Adelaide, Australia to
We'll certainly miss her, of course, but wish her the best with her new furry friends...
All is not lost, however, with our recruitment of Angel Gabarino (who was Krishna's partner at So No Mas). Angel is an accomplished adventure racer, and her race reports make mine look like tweets (although, of course, her races last 72 hours, so there's a lot to write about).
Welcome Angel!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Downieville Classic
Short version: Mediocre, but no crashes. 58/89 in sport XC 35-44 at approximately 3:06
Long version: After blowing up spectacularly preriding two weeks before, I was hesitant. Fortunately, it was not 95 degrees out this time. As we took off, I realized that when I'd had a flat the last time I rode this bike, I'd just pumped it up enough to limp back to the car. Because I am a moron, I'd not checked the pressure before I started. I bottomed out my back tire a half-dozen times on the climb. Fortunately, I never pinch-flatted. The plus side of that was that I had awesome traction all the way up. I paced myself (perhaps too much) up the climb, but made the top in pretty good shape. Our team-only aid station at the top ran with NASCAR-like efficiency. I got my tire pumped up, a new bottle, and a lube job and was on my way in less than a minute.
As I headed down the first stretch of single track on Sunrise, I heard "hey, did you ride Napa a couple weeks ago?" When I agreed that I had, I heard "I was the guy you were duelling with the entire time." It was Dan, whom I'd beaten by 3 seconds at Skyline. Once we hit the next stretch of fire road, I left him behind.
Most of the way down was uneventful. My too-small bike started to cause my back to crunch up pretty much by the start of the extended downhill section, and the combination of that with riding a hardtail made most of the descent pretty painful. The thing about Downieville, though, is that if you're gonna do it, you've got to commit. So I rode plenty of stuff that without the mental momentum would have had me walking on many rides. I wasn't going that fast, though, being underbiked, and I ended up pulling over a half dozen times to let people go by. I did start to suffer a little cramping here, but oddly enough, it was in my arms, from wrestling with the bars trying to coax my hardtail down the rocks. I also stopped halfway down to drop off a CO2 cartridge to someone who needed one.
I was feeling pretty bad by this point
As I entered the very last section of singletrack, I heard "hey, it's my friend from Napa" behind me. Now, given where we were in the overall scheme of things it wasn't a huge deal, but I think it was still a mistake for him to have said that, because I proceeded to bury myself. The singletrack ends with two shortish climbs and then a quick downhill drop. I only remembered the first climb. I hammered up the first incline, only to turn a corner and see the last uphill section. After spending that much effort getting away from my rival, I was damned if I was gonna let him catch me. I started chanting "Must. Not. Die." as I slowly turned the pedals over working to get up that last hill.
Onto the pavement, finally, and I was feeling a little confident. There were a couple little rises which almost did me in, but I was able to struggle to the finish, beating that guy Dan by a whole 7 seconds this time. I was pretty damn wrecked, though. I lay around for more than an hour, too nauseous to do anything but sip water and hope that my body finally figured out it was done.
Long version: After blowing up spectacularly preriding two weeks before, I was hesitant. Fortunately, it was not 95 degrees out this time. As we took off, I realized that when I'd had a flat the last time I rode this bike, I'd just pumped it up enough to limp back to the car. Because I am a moron, I'd not checked the pressure before I started. I bottomed out my back tire a half-dozen times on the climb. Fortunately, I never pinch-flatted. The plus side of that was that I had awesome traction all the way up. I paced myself (perhaps too much) up the climb, but made the top in pretty good shape. Our team-only aid station at the top ran with NASCAR-like efficiency. I got my tire pumped up, a new bottle, and a lube job and was on my way in less than a minute.
As I headed down the first stretch of single track on Sunrise, I heard "hey, did you ride Napa a couple weeks ago?" When I agreed that I had, I heard "I was the guy you were duelling with the entire time." It was Dan, whom I'd beaten by 3 seconds at Skyline. Once we hit the next stretch of fire road, I left him behind.
Most of the way down was uneventful. My too-small bike started to cause my back to crunch up pretty much by the start of the extended downhill section, and the combination of that with riding a hardtail made most of the descent pretty painful. The thing about Downieville, though, is that if you're gonna do it, you've got to commit. So I rode plenty of stuff that without the mental momentum would have had me walking on many rides. I wasn't going that fast, though, being underbiked, and I ended up pulling over a half dozen times to let people go by. I did start to suffer a little cramping here, but oddly enough, it was in my arms, from wrestling with the bars trying to coax my hardtail down the rocks. I also stopped halfway down to drop off a CO2 cartridge to someone who needed one.
I was feeling pretty bad by this point
As I entered the very last section of singletrack, I heard "hey, it's my friend from Napa" behind me. Now, given where we were in the overall scheme of things it wasn't a huge deal, but I think it was still a mistake for him to have said that, because I proceeded to bury myself. The singletrack ends with two shortish climbs and then a quick downhill drop. I only remembered the first climb. I hammered up the first incline, only to turn a corner and see the last uphill section. After spending that much effort getting away from my rival, I was damned if I was gonna let him catch me. I started chanting "Must. Not. Die." as I slowly turned the pedals over working to get up that last hill.
Onto the pavement, finally, and I was feeling a little confident. There were a couple little rises which almost did me in, but I was able to struggle to the finish, beating that guy Dan by a whole 7 seconds this time. I was pretty damn wrecked, though. I lay around for more than an hour, too nauseous to do anything but sip water and hope that my body finally figured out it was done.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Various goings-on
Although we'll not be out in force for a race until the Downieville Classic on July 11th, many of our team members are racing, mucking about, and generally riding bikes.
Carrie starts the BC Bike Race on Sunday.
A few of us took part in what has been called "America's hooptiest race series" this week, and our participation was highlighted by Arena outsprinting Roaring Mouse's Mo for the women's victory. Arena was awarded with serious podium boy action:
Finally, a half-dozen of us are headed to Downieville to spend a weekend preriding the course. Since I have the week off, I am heading into Tahoe Forest for a little bike camping. I hope to have a report when I return.
Carrie starts the BC Bike Race on Sunday.
A few of us took part in what has been called "America's hooptiest race series" this week, and our participation was highlighted by Arena outsprinting Roaring Mouse's Mo for the women's victory. Arena was awarded with serious podium boy action:
Finally, a half-dozen of us are headed to Downieville to spend a weekend preriding the course. Since I have the week off, I am heading into Tahoe Forest for a little bike camping. I hope to have a report when I return.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Coolest 24 Hour MTB at Boggs (OK, the Coolest 8 in our case...)
Undeterred by what may have been one of the most punishing and brutal weather-induced debacles in 24 hour racing history last month, the good folks at Global Biorhythm events found redemption this weekend by putting on a fantastic race at everyone's favorite demonstration forest tucked away in Cobb, CA: Boggs. Moonies present included myself, Mark and Joe, Carrie and Murphy, Evan and Tristan, and Jeremy and Jenn (for moral and massage support).
Compared to the rather large turnout at Cool, the field for this race was surprisingly small at around 150 people; I suspected most people may have still had lingering trauma from the previous race, but Jim the race director acknowledged the lower turnaround and said he preferred it, as it allowed people to really get out there and race without the fear of riding all over one another - which proved to be true. Luckily, the conditions on Saturday were near perfect for a mountain bike race, despite being slightly dry and dusty starting off; a bit cloudy and overcast early on, and then clearing up by the mid-afternoon.
The course differed substantially from the BikeMonkey Boggs series - on the one hand, there was a technical rocky section at the very start that forced more than a few people to get off the bike (including myself), which Mark illustrates here:
Mark
Murphy and Evan, on the other hand, managed a little better - at least for the Kodak moment:
Murphy
Evan
Secondly, there was considerably more climbing on this course - 1400 ft. to be exact, nearly all of which was concentrated about 2/3 of the way into the course... a veritable "trail of tears," at least for myself. On my last lap, I would have to spin up this at a tortoise-like pace in order to keep the leg cramps at bay. Beyond that, there were some other routing changes but a lot of the fun singletrack was left intact. On my first lap though, I missed a right turn (that I would later see others miss as well) and ended up dropping about 300 feet down a fire road before realizing the tire tracks had all disappeared.
At one point, Carrie blew by me in a pack of about 4 or 5 with Tinker in the mix; however, I would later catch up to her as she was dealing with a flat on one of the narrow singletrack sections. She would duly fly by me minutes later.
Carrie
Joe Taylor made a fashionably late appearance and arrived after Mark had finished two of his laps already, jumping on his Cannondale and giving his raging hangover the finger:
Joe
All in all, a pretty successful and fun race for team Sheila Moon: Evan and Tristan placed 3rd in the open 2-person category, and I placed 3rd in the 18-29 yr old 8-hour bracket (albeit, out of a field of 3) on my first solo attempt. I think over the course of 8 hours, I consumed over 15 gels, 1 PBJ, half a Clif bar, and over two full Camelbaks of water. Big ups to Jeremy for pushing me to do a 5th lap when I rolled into our campsite shortly after the 6-hour mark, whining about my hands being too tired to pull the brakes. When someone with a busted shoulder who wants nothing else but to get out there and ride tells you to man the f&%# up, it carries that much more weight.
The rest of the night digressed into a blur of pork tacos, Firestone ale, an epically raging campfire, heckling 24 hour racers at midnight, and an unsuccessful visit to the Team Vanderkitten campsite. Hope I didn't leave anything out, see you guys at Downieville!
Derrick
Compared to the rather large turnout at Cool, the field for this race was surprisingly small at around 150 people; I suspected most people may have still had lingering trauma from the previous race, but Jim the race director acknowledged the lower turnaround and said he preferred it, as it allowed people to really get out there and race without the fear of riding all over one another - which proved to be true. Luckily, the conditions on Saturday were near perfect for a mountain bike race, despite being slightly dry and dusty starting off; a bit cloudy and overcast early on, and then clearing up by the mid-afternoon.
The course differed substantially from the BikeMonkey Boggs series - on the one hand, there was a technical rocky section at the very start that forced more than a few people to get off the bike (including myself), which Mark illustrates here:
Mark
Murphy and Evan, on the other hand, managed a little better - at least for the Kodak moment:
Murphy
Evan
Secondly, there was considerably more climbing on this course - 1400 ft. to be exact, nearly all of which was concentrated about 2/3 of the way into the course... a veritable "trail of tears," at least for myself. On my last lap, I would have to spin up this at a tortoise-like pace in order to keep the leg cramps at bay. Beyond that, there were some other routing changes but a lot of the fun singletrack was left intact. On my first lap though, I missed a right turn (that I would later see others miss as well) and ended up dropping about 300 feet down a fire road before realizing the tire tracks had all disappeared.
At one point, Carrie blew by me in a pack of about 4 or 5 with Tinker in the mix; however, I would later catch up to her as she was dealing with a flat on one of the narrow singletrack sections. She would duly fly by me minutes later.
Carrie
Joe Taylor made a fashionably late appearance and arrived after Mark had finished two of his laps already, jumping on his Cannondale and giving his raging hangover the finger:
Joe
All in all, a pretty successful and fun race for team Sheila Moon: Evan and Tristan placed 3rd in the open 2-person category, and I placed 3rd in the 18-29 yr old 8-hour bracket (albeit, out of a field of 3) on my first solo attempt. I think over the course of 8 hours, I consumed over 15 gels, 1 PBJ, half a Clif bar, and over two full Camelbaks of water. Big ups to Jeremy for pushing me to do a 5th lap when I rolled into our campsite shortly after the 6-hour mark, whining about my hands being too tired to pull the brakes. When someone with a busted shoulder who wants nothing else but to get out there and ride tells you to man the f&%# up, it carries that much more weight.
The rest of the night digressed into a blur of pork tacos, Firestone ale, an epically raging campfire, heckling 24 hour racers at midnight, and an unsuccessful visit to the Team Vanderkitten campsite. Hope I didn't leave anything out, see you guys at Downieville!
Derrick
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
