Green grasses and conversing with cows - The Old Caz Grasshopper 2018

[Cathy]

Saturday, January 27, was my third year of participating in the first leg of the annual Grasshopper Adventure Series - Ye Old Caz. The course was challenging and fun and very lonely at times…

The day began with a leisurely drive to our destination in Occidental. Jim, Phil and I took to the road early so we would have plenty of time to prep before the race. The day was crisp, not too cold, and the surrounding fields along the drive were lush and green. I always feel like i’ve been transferred to a quaint little village in the hills of Switzerland driving through Sonoma Valley this time of year.

Phil once again invited us to his friend Mark’s home to stage for our race. Mark, as last year, was gracious and welcoming and the warm house and yummy muffins were a great way to kick off a race day. We prepped and got ready and rolled down the hill to the start of the race. I was on my Trek hardtail 29er, and Jim did a lot work to really lighten it up for me. I did a quick warm up, some stretching and hopped into line. I tried for middle of the pack, but knew it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t being negative and tried to remain upbeat, but the reality was that I haven’t ridden my bike much to be competitive. So I put on a smile and knew I was in for a fun group ride!

Oh yeah…fun. At ten of the clock, on the dot, the race started and slowly we back pack folks made our way to the first turn through town and began the road climb. Yep, I didn’t have it, the leg thing, the fitness thing. The last two years I chased, passed, moved up past my group of riders and made some headway. This year, this race, nothing. I just tried to make it up that first hill. As we merged through the gate and finally to the Willow Creek descent I maneuvered myself around riders and began passing all the way down. I found another couple of mountain bike racers doing the same thing and we made our way down the fun, slightly slimly downhill section to the road.

At the gravel road I hung with one of the mountain bike guys. We both knew we would get left on the road sections so we kinda stayed together. I didn’t get his name, but he was from Hayward and he and his wife just had a baby five-months ago, so he was struggling from almost zero fitness. But he was strong and pulled me into some packs for that first long road spin. He helped me for those miles and I was so thankful. That was the only help I got the whole race, so I wish I could’ve thanked him. As we made the turn for the climb at Duncan road, I took off ahead and he yelled out, “See you at the finish”. But I never did see him again. I hope he had a great day.

I really didn’t feel too awful for the next climb. I set my sights on some Roaring Mouse team riders and tried to catch them. I did manage to pass enough riders to get in a good position for the next downhill. I flew down, as best I could, passing here, passing there, “on your left, thank you”, trying to not piss anyone off since I would see each rider again as they caught me on the next climb. And this is how my race proceeded…. holding pace, chasing on the climbs, then passing on the downs only to get caught by the riders I just passed on the descent. This held true until that very, long last muddy downhill. At this point, I did manage to get ahead of those riders behind me. I hit the last twisty downhill road to the flat pavement and I was alone, for a very long time. I realize now that my inexperience as a roadie was my ultimate downfall. Picture this - here I am, on a mountain bike, on the side of a road, pedaling in the wind, alone. For at least 20 minutes I rode out there on that road, just me and the cows. I began conversing with them as I pedaled past. I bet nobody else on the day thought to take the time to say howdy to a cow.

In my mind I still did think I had enough to stay in front of the ladies I had finally left behind. I kept looking back, hoping for at least one rider to come and help me. Two riders eventually came by, but I wasn’t prepared and they were going too fast for me to catch on with them. Sigh, all well. But then, I heard something. It was loud. I looked back and it was a massive pace line, going very fast. Oh boy. I started pedaling faster. I swear, it’s like surfing. You see that set, you see the wave you want, you start paddling, paddling for your life to get into position to get on that wave. And then it’s there, beneath you. You either get on it and ride it or you just miss the whole thing. Well, that’s exactly what happened to me. I missed the wave. That whole pace line just flew past me and I could not catch the flying mass of whooshing tires. I watched all my previous efforts just…disappear. All those women I had worked so hard to stay in front of on those dirt climbs and descents. They just flew past me. No one slowed down to lend a hand and say, “here ya go, come with us”. Nope, they didn’t even look sideways at me. Haha!

My stomach dropped and I phoned it in on the road. I was lonely and kinda feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t have a group. I felt like an outcast. So, what does one do but start saying hey to the cows again. That sure made me feel better and I got some positive attitude and made my way to the final climb back up Willow Creek.

I will say, that is one long climb back up to the finish. I was still alone, but passed a few stragglers. I actually still had some legs and tried to at least make an attempt for a better finish time. Finally the finish line appeared and I pedaled up the little hill to see Jim waiting and to the good news that I had won a raffle prize. So it all worked out exactly as it was meant. I won something and I finished the race! What a fun day!

Congratulations to our team member Phil for finishing fifth!! Top ten in a massive field of talented riders! And nice work all of Team Acme for such a strong showing…Jim, Danny, Paul and Mark.

Until next time,

Cat

[Philip Mooney]

"So I put on a smile and knew I was in for a fun group ride" - That's the attitude I like to hear!