Old Caz Grasshopper 2016

[Cathy]

So I decided to get off my dh kick and try some real racing this year. With A LOT of help from Jim I participated in my first Grasshopper event and mixed racing challenge yesterday. I really had no idea what to expect, as I've never even really ridden on the road, let alone with 400 other people in race mode. Strategy? What strategy? My strategy was to not fail. I must finish.

That being said, I had the time of my life! My morning started as Jim and I did some road warm ups. I felt like we went pretty hard, shook off the cobwebs. As the line started building, I really didn't know where to go. I took my place behind two friendly looking women, probably about two-thirds back off the start. Standing there, in a giant pack of roadie types, I definitely was feeling out of place...but not nervous. I was excited. For those of you who normally line up front and race out front, let me tell you- the back is actually fun! However, I also knew being so far back was a definite disadvantage. But I decided to just chill and see how it all played out.

I kept looking up front for movement, some sign the race was finally starting. The drone kept flying overhead, the time was ticking. My Garmin said it was 10 am. Let's go! Finally, about 10:03, I sensed movement. Yes! We were going! I gave a silent prayer, wish, whatever, that Jim and I had great rides, no flats, no mechanicals. And off we went. Well, kinda. It was slowwww. As we rounded the turn up Coleman Valley Road it was a pretty cool feeling being with everyone else, just trying to find your own place, your own pace. I slowly developed my own strategy (yes, I came up with strategies along the way). As faster riders began passing, I started chasing them, popping past people in pockets. Getting behind another rider until someone faster came along, then getting behind them. I kept my eyes on the racers I thought I needed to keep in my sights. It helped me focus and not get going too slow. I didn't want to get too caught up in that "back of the pack" mentality where you kinda start to groove, or chill a little too much. I knew I needed to try.

I felt good. The climb up Coleman was much easier than the warm up I did with Jim. I remembered from the map and race description there was a downhill section coming up, so I began to try to position myself so I could actually let it go in the descent without being clogged up in traffic. As we began descending, I knew this could be fast. The dirt was good, my traction felt good, my Trek Stache rigid 29er that Jim set me up for me was like a thoroughbred horse. It wanted to go! Whoa! Literally! Brakes on, single file lines of cross bike racers were out in front of me. Shoot, why weren't they going faster? This is the downhill, the fun part. Well, right then and there, I had to develop another strategy.

I guess you could say that strategy was to not try to be so nice. I had to not worry if I was hurting someone's feelings or egos. I HAD TO PASS. I've never experienced passing multiple single file riders in turns, with sketchy skinny tires. I took people in the corners, on the insides. Or if they blocked me, I waited for a straight section and stood and hammered to make the pass. Sometimes the inside turn passes were pretty scary, but I slowly got away and found the riders going my speed. That was fun!!

As we started onto the flat dirt, I found myself in a conundrum.  I was too slow for some groups and too fast for others.  Jim had warned me I may need to adjust my speeds, be it slower or faster to hang with a group so I wasn't left pedaling alone.  I knew I was feeling good, so I made a decision to go for it and expend the extra burst of energy to ride with the faster packs.  So I kicked it in and made my first big effort to catch the group ahead of me.  Let me tell you, once I caught them I also caught the bug.  Riding in a pack is something foreign and exciting.  And, I must say, effortless.  I had no idea.  This is where I really began to enjoy myself as we all settled in for a few miles and kind of got comfortable with each other. 

Inevitably, the front guys started pulling too hard for some of us, and our pack began to dwindle.  I began to despair until a really cool dude named John on a mountain bike joined our group.  He graciously let me hook onto him and he pulled me up to a couple of guys that kept us going for a few more miles.  As the group broke and regrouped again, I stayed with John.  The guy on the mountain bike saved my ass that morning and taught me a little about riding on the road. 

Next up was the right hand turn onto the dreaded Duncan Road.  I heard someone in the group yell, "Here we go!" and I have to admit, it scared me a bit.  But I also knew I was up to the challenge.  So when we rounded that turn and started that climb, I was pleasantly surprised when I began to pull away from my group.  I had a tingling sense of guilt by leaving them behind after all they had done for me, but my steed wanted to push forward. I gradually passed most of the group but at the very top, before the descent, mistakenly took an uphill turn to some gate.  Uh, that looked wrong and I turned around to see the nearest riders glance up at me, chuckle, and take off on the down hill section.  Paybacks are a bitch!

From here on out the rest of the ride was pretty similar. I have to say, I got pretty bonky on that long climb up that paved road.  When I asked, someone said they thought it was the Old Caz road. I hooked in with another guy on a mountain bike and he said that was the part of the race his mind always blocked out of his memory.  I knew we were in for some pain.  After what seemed like about 12 hours later I finally reached the peak. I took off and slowly realized I was once again all alone.  I kept going, not too worried, but in the back of my mind I knew I needed to start strategizing for the road ride back to the dirt.  I remembered John, the guy on the mountain bike, said to make sure I wasn't alone for that section.  There wasn't anyone ahead or behind me, so I opted to slow down and wait for another rider.  And bam! Along came "Castrovalley".  He got in ahead of me and I settled in on his wheel.  We chatted...about where we were from (Castrovalley, duh!), the scenery, our ride and generally set a good pace.  I'm sorry to say, I never got his name, which is weird. 

We found two other riders just waiting for some people and we all formed a new group.  One was a kid, definitely looked fast, but I'm assuming he flatted and was just riding to finish at this point.  We hit the main road and I have to say, we formed a pretty formidable pack.  We were flying! At one point, the kid took the lead and he was just pulling too hard for the rest of us.  We tried, but then just let him go. My new hero is Castrovalley.  He pulled us all the way to the dirt at a pretty steady 22-23 mph. 

Once we hit the turn to the dirt, we began to pull in with others.  I started hearing grumblings about what was ahead.  I knew I still felt strong, but when the old timers are complaining, I have to admit, it made me a little worried about the climb to the finish.  I looked over to my fellow packie on my right and said, "We got this".  As we began the dirt climb I knew Castrovalley had done his work.  He got me to the climb fresh, and I slowly pulled away from my group.  I'm sorry to say Castrovalley paid for his heroics, as I didn't see him again.  Thank you Castrovalley, and thank you group.  I have great love for all of you. 

For those of you reading this, I don't need to tell you about the punishing climb to the finish.  All I knew was that the end was up there, just around the next turn.  I couldn't wait to see my sweetie and show him I could finish this damn thing!  And hear about his adventures up front, a totally different world from my experience.  But no matter where one landed in this race, we all came away with a sense of accomplishment and comraderie.  Thank you to all of the nameless racers who let me ride with them.  And thank you to Team Acme for letting me share in this journey with you.  Congratulations to each of you! Most of all, thank you to Jim.  Happy Valentines Day!!

Until next time,

Cat