Race Report Old Grasshopper Feb 2016

[Mark Buell]

Just heard about this race “Old Caz Grasshopper” from Jim a few weeks ago. I was psyched for the race because I knew two buddies doing the race (Mark I, Greg), the website indicated beer at the finish line, and I was riding my bike really well.

As race day approached, I got a decent sinus infection that kept me off the bike for 10 days or so outside of a ride with my little 7-year old Luke. The sinus infection never got too bad and I wondered maybe this will just leave me well rested as opposed to sick for the 50 mile Grasshopper Test. I knew I wanted to go watch the race even if I didn’t participate, but I tested myself on Tamarancho the day before and seemed OK.

Alright, I made the decision to ride – so I went again to the Old Caz website to look at the course and see some video.  After talking to Greg, I realized I would probably need to put a bigger ring on my Felt Hardtail if I were to be able to be competitive on the long flat sections that require drafting. I swapped out my 30 up front for a 34 ring. Would I be able to get up the hills in my 34? Time would tell.

So Greg, Mark I, and I drove up together and shared some stories and listened to Greg’s music that I liked (and probably my teen-age daughters like too). We arrived a couple hours before the race and saw our friend Dave Benjamin, who - although not riding - was going to take some pictures at the creek crossing and root for his son Carson and ACME teammates.

Greg, Mark I, and I went up the first hill in warm-up. I felt relieved to have some legs and felt hopeful to survive. Never racing this before, I figured the racers in the front of the group trying to win would be on Cyclocross bikes – but I was surprised to see that 80% of the riders were on some type of road/cyclo bike. I decided to pump up my tires beyond 40 – would that turn my hardtail into a cross bike?

At the start, the triumvirate (Mark I, Greg, me) lined up in the middle of the pack. We probably should have lined up a little further ahead but this was a long test for us and we didn’t think the start would have much meaning after 50 miles had been completed. My small bladder and last minute bathroom break, didn’t help our initial positioning either.

After a couple minutes of waiting around, the race started. I couldn’t help myself and started riding very hard up middle yellow line passing quite a few people. I was hoping that Greg and Mark were following, but Greg has followed me many times and knows that I can ride like a chicken with his head cut off and that following me comes with many risks :).

As we started the first dirt descent, I had some decently fast riders surrounding me but they were mostly cyclocross bikes.  I was able to pass quite a few people on the descent given that I was actually on a mountain bike. I started to give verbal heads-up to riders I was passing – “on your right, on your left”…this didn’t seem to make me any friends on cyclocross bikes, so I learned to pass in stealth mode.

At the bottom of the initial descent, I fell in behind a guy that was flying along the pot-holed fire road. We were flying! I was staring at his back wheel and hanging on for dear life. I probably should have been watching where I was going as I flew over a pot-hole and lost both filled water bottles. I realized that the loss of water may cause serious problems later (and it did), but I was going so fast and having so much fun that I thought that adrenaline could carry me if water couldn’t.

As we made our way to the first paved section, we coalesced into a fairly large pack of guys that were hammering the flats. I made my way into the long pace line…and in a few minutes I was pulling the group. After a minute or two up front, was I supposed to pull off to the left or right? I have never really ridden in a large pack – I don’t remember which way I pulled off – but it was the wrong way and I now had a group of angry riders surrounding me. I went to the back of the pace-line and several minutes later I was pulling the group – I pulled long and hard wanting to make friends and make up for my miscues just minutes ago. I was really surprised at how efficient my hardtail was on the pavement.

We rode as a large group to the 2^nd set of climbs.  I was beginning to feel thirsty and I knew there was water ahead – but couldn’t remember how far. Initially, I was climbing well within my group, but after 15 minutes or so I started really feeling “it”. Really feeling “it”. At this point, I might have paid someone $100 for their water bottle!

Finally, there was water – but I had no bottles to exchange. Thankfully, the woman volunteering at the stand saw my predicament and mercifully gave me a used one. I sucked through that bottle in about 10 seconds hoping it was going to recharge me – no luck. We started some descents, and I passed some of the people that I had started the climb with. The bike started acting a little squirrelly on some of the descents – it felt like I had a flat in the rear. I stopped and looked but it was fully inflated. Hmmm…maybe the wicked tail action on the back of my bike was actually caused by my 45 pounds of pressure?

At this point, I was truly melting –and I remembered that Dave was going to be at the creek crossing. I had nothing left, and actually planned on begging him for a ride back. But he wasn’t there! I actually needed to ride my bike back…uh oh.

Post creek-crossing, I was completely alone. Did I make a wrong turn? After 10 minutes of not seeing anybody, I started peddling very casually and asked a guy on a motorcycle which way to Occidental? Finally, I saw a couple riders coming from behind me. I grabbed on to their wheel to form a group of three. They were very surprised when I was able to keep pace with them – as they saw how slow I was riding solo. I caught a second wind, and was now making really good time on the flats.  

This group included a guy about my age, and a woman named Laura from San Anselmo. She was strong. We took turns in our group of three and although we took turns – Laura was the horsepower!

Our group of three was riding well together as we made our way back to the final ascent. I pulled over to fill my water bottle – hoping I would catch back up with the group in a couple minutes. I put a hard effort in but was not making up any ground…as soon as the fire road turned up – I knew I was in trouble. Waves of people started passing me …..and I wished them well.  After what seemed like 3 lifetimes, I saw Dave at the finish and pulled over several inches beyond the finish line. The pain was over – time to grab some beer and see how Jim and the others had fared. I was proud to finish, and I truly don’t know what I would have done if I had seen Dave at the creek.