“B” is for Bonelli 4/23/06

Sunday’s cross country mountain bike race of choice was at Bonelli Park in San Dimas, CA. It consisted of 2 nine mile laps, with 1,100 feet of climbing, and a classic mix of fire road, single track, double wide, a bit of mud and a tricky water crossing. The beginning of the course featured a moderate climb, overgrown with tall yellow spring flowers, while the back side of the loop was a stiffer climb and hike-a-bike section if you did not pick your lines right.

In previous years, Bonelli has been blazin’ hot. Luckily we were greeted with a nice cool day in the mid-sixties. For me, Bonelli was going to be a “B” race, or a race that is not my primary focus in the season. In other words, it is an expensive training ride that allows me to experience intensity that I would not be able to replicate out on the trails by myself. I was in the perfect mood for it: blah.

The weekend prior to the race, I pre-rode the course and encountered peanut butter mud that caked on my wheels and bike so badly my bike gained several extra pounds. There was also the festering water crossing with a nice blend of trash, trees and other terrible things. I was not looking forward to racing in similar conditions having just fought my way through Sea Otter’s mud festival and bike mechanicals. Also, I was not anticipating the best race conditions since it had rained the night before. But my bike was in better condition, sporting a new stealth black fork/shock.

Lining up at the start line the music was booming from the loud speakers. A bunch of us, Christie, Teri, myself and others, were bopping to the music waiting for the official to send us off. At the word, “GO!” we took off zigzagging through the staked out course in the grassy park, through some mud and up to the first single track climb. We had to dodge around a few of the men that were sent off before us and were not interested in letting us pass, causing a minor pile-up. I call these guys “huff daddies.” They try so hard to not be passed by women that they huff and puff and blow themselves up trying to block female racers and keep a fast pace.

My first lap was a slow grind. My teammate, Chrissy, spanked me on my bottom as she passed me. It was her bid to persuade me to get moving. I maintained my own pace, trying to keep everyone ahead of me in sight. I was still settling into the race and eventually lost sight of the leading women. I was happy with my technical performance. I comfortably cruised through the tricky water section and over technical obstacles. Fortunately, for the one nasty water crossing the promoters had built a bridge. Otherwise I think I would have needed a booster shot for diphtheria or medication for some other bacteria infection.

By the time I started on my second lap, my legs began to open up some more. I found a faster tempo without having to breathe too hard or burn up my legs. This lap was definitely my best and faster lap. However, it was too late to make up lost ground to catch and pass the four racers in front of me. That was a big bummer. But I was not breaking a sweat, based on a spectator’s comment, as I was winding up to bolt toward the finish line for 5th place. (Picture: Blabbing with the pro women after the race.)

Even though this was a “B” race, I made some big improvements. Sunday, I beat my previous time-I was faster by almost 19 minutes compared to last year’s race, I was only 7 minutes behind the winner and I battled through my blahs to for a strong finish. Based on this experience, I am sure the “B” races will only make me better.

Tweekin' Out! Sea Otter 4/9/06

STAGE FOUR: CROSS-COUNTRY Sunday, April 9, 2006

The fourth and final stage of the Sea Otter Classic was the cross country race. The women had a leisurely 1:10pm start time to ride on race course consisting of two 19 mile laps with about 2400 feet of climbing each lap, up short, steep climbs, on singletrack through the trees, rocks, sand, meadows and… you guessed it MUD! The day started out cool and cloudy and by race time it was drizzling.

As Tweek from South Park would say, "Aaargh! Too much pressure, I can't take it!!" I was nervous. We queued up in the spitting rain for the final thrill of the mud festival. I tried to tuck myself in the middle of the pack to stay warm and to find a good position. We started on the Laguna Seca raceway track up the famous Corkscrew to meet up with a bit of dirt. With a pack of mountain bikers on the road steering fat knobby tires we sounded like a swarm of bees launching an attack. I felt pretty comfortable in the pack, drafting, coasting and dodging wheels that suddenly braked.

I like playing in the dirt and once we turned off through the tight barricades onto the fire road I was back in my element. The racers were really aggressive. One started to push me off the road down the side of the hill- I pushed back. Then I proceeded to take myself out by riding my front tire into someone’s back wheel. Not one of my finer moments. Thankfully, it was a short climb. Then we bombed down a hill fast and furiously to meet up with the swooping singletrack through the trees. Low and behold a throng of rude expert men racers, who started after us, caught us and started passing. One of the guys dropped his chain and settled in to fix it in the middle of the trail. I kindly asked him to move his bike out the way. He proceeded to run me off the trail, slamming my left foot and catching his pedal in my front wheel bending my spokes. I was wicked mad.

Trying to shake it off, I got back on and kept riding. I was a car in the train of the expert men and pro women racers up a steep, greasy muddy trail. Another one of the rude expert men thought it was a good idea to pass me – where he thought he was going to go, I am not sure, we were wheel to wheel climbing up the hill. I was taken out again.

At this point I was pretty discouraged by the turn of events. I was just trying to keep the legs turning. I made it up the rest of the climb only to encounter two mud sections that wanted to suck my shoes off my feet. I battled through and met up with some more fire road. It looked like the climb was going to be endless. Death marches in riding usually do not occur until after a four or five hours of riding and when I have almost run out of water and I am craving chili cheese fries. Sadly, I was not even finished with my first 19 mile lap and I just wanted to be done with the race.

My pro southern California racer comrade, Christie, rolled up to me and gave me a pep talk about staying positive. Her energy was infectious. It was nice having company on such a miserable day. We crossed the start/finish line together and set off for a second lap. I wanted to make sure I had enough fuel so I started chomping on a Clif Bar. I shoved the whole thing in my mouth while I was trying to draft behind Christie back up the Corkscrew. Mud was flying off her wheel in my face while I attempted to close my mouth, looking like a chipmunk with energy bar chunks in my cheeks with buck teeth.

Once I got the food down, I felt a lot better. I pedaled on the downhill, caught some great speed and set off to finish the race strong. I did not care how much pain my legs were in. I mashed gears to get through the steep climbs. My whole attitude shifted. I was on a mission. When I got to the mud pits, I found my way around them so I did not have to battle the sloppy goo. It was at this point that I started catching and passing women who had ridden me off their wheels at the beginning of the race. I was starting to make a come back. It felt good.

Up on the fire road, my lower back started to hurt. It was a persistent ache and I could not figure out the cause. Ignore, ignore, ignore, the pain. Time to grind through and finish. Baaaaaaa! Yes, at the top of one of the hills a herd of sheep were there to greet me. I had to yell, “Stay!” to a brave one trying to cross the fire road. It listened. Then I started to think…..that was not mud! Eewwwww!

There still was a lot of climbing left. But karma does surprise you once in a while. Some of those expert tough guys were starting to drop like flies. I guess when you only carry one water bottle and do not have anything to eat for 38 miles, your legs start to cramp and you have to stop on the side of the trail to stretch or pedal really slowly. All my cylinders were fired up. I pushed through every section, slid around on some worn out muddy parts of the trail and put the hammer down once I got on the raceway. I was not going to let up until I crossed the finish line. Yippee! I finished and came in 43rd. And the back pain – turns out that I busted my front shock/fork again. So I had no give on the descents, taking all the jostling in my lower back.

These last four days were the hardest days of racing I have ever participated in. Sure I have been on teams for 24 hour mountain bike races. But nothing can compare to the length of these races, the world class competition and the intensity at each start line. Out of the 69 women who started, only 53 actually finished all four events. This experience has certainly prepared me for rest of the season’s events to be more mentally and physically resilient.

Rider in reverse! Sea Otter 4/8/06

STAGE THREE: SHORT TRACK Saturday, April 8, 2006

The third stage of the Sea Otter Classic is the short track race. Short track is similar to a criterium (see my San Dimas Stage Race posting to learn about criteriums). Basically, short track is on a short circuit on the dirt. The women were set to go off at 1:15pm and race for seven laps. Similar to the super cross race on Thursday, all riders in danger of being lapped would be pulled. All pulled riders will receive a finish time, plus a penalty. This was going to be my first short track race ever.

Bike Update: Luckily, the Answer/Manitou mechanics were able to put a new shiny squashed caterpillar green casting on my front fork so I would be able to reattach my front disc brake. The bad news was that the bike builder used the wrong length of bolts for my brake which may have caused the stripped threads. No big deal, I just had to hoof it across the Sea Otter festival grounds back to the SRAM tent to get more bolts and washers. Finally, my bike was put back together and in time for today’s race! Yeah!!

After getting my bike back in working order, I headed back to the car to relax and prepare for the short track event. My warm-up went surprisingly well. Last night when I went back to the hotel, my legs were seizing up. Yesterday I had not had an opportunity to do a cool down ride after the time trial because I was so focused on getting my bike fixed-then I did not have a bike to ride. So I learned the hard way the importance of doing a recovery ride after a race.

The short track start was a mass start. In the picture you can see the sea of helmets. Now where’s the squashed caterpillar green fork? If you found it, that’s me. Women were crashing and sliding all over the place right from the start. Since it rained yesterday from mid-afternoon through the night, the course was very soupy. I did a pretty good job picking my lines through the wrecks and sloppy riders until I got stuck behind Kelli Emmett on the Ford Cycling Team. She was taking a bad line in a grassy muddy downhill section and going slow-half riding, half walking her bike. I mistakenly thought she had picked a good path and followed. That set me back a few spots.

Quickly after that I found out that the course was much like a cyclo-cross aka “psycho-cross” course in my dictionary. Cyclo-cross is a type of racing where racers use road-type bikes with knobby tires and jump off their bikes in pre-determined sections to hop over knee-high barriers and then get back on their bikes and ride again. Ugh! I am not a fan of psycho-cross; bikes are made to be ridden, not carried. In this short track race there were two areas that you had to dismount. Again, I learned the hard way. I tried to ride some of the puddles to only find out that they were shin-deep bowls of squishy soupy mud that sucked half my front wheel in and took some force to pull my bike back out of. I had also stepped in it and almost lost my shoes trying to pull my feet out. Yuck! Backwards I went again as I watched racers go around me on each side.

Powering through other muddy sections took a lot of energy. Some areas I rode well and then others I just kept getting sucked into the mud bog trying to get around other racers. I felt like I was riding in reverse. My bike was accumulating mud and kept getting heavier on each lap. It was a struggle to hold it upright. I think I raced for three laps before being pulled by the officials because Gunn-Rita was hauling around the course without a hitch. I finished today in 50th place. I cannot wait until I have more pro racing experience under my belt so I can lap riders too. Until then, I will be at the bike wash cleaning the mud off my bike with Chrissy.

GRrrrrrraaaaaoooooorrrrrrrrr! Sea Otter 4/7/06

STAGE TWO: TIME TRIAL Friday, April 7, 2006

The second stage of the Sea Otter Classic is the time trial. The women were sent off at 30 second intervals on a 2-mile course within the confines of Laguna Seca. The day was sunny, bright and chilly.

Today was a day of race troubles. Again, I arrived early to figure out what time I would be heading out for the time trail. For some reason the promoters for this race have not been well-organized. They had two different overall start times posted for the women’s time trial and no individual times listed. I went from the registration booth to begging other team managers for information on the time trial individual start times. Either no one knew or and the rest were guessing. Finally, after a good 20 minute search, I ran into my race pal, Christie, and she hooked me up with good information. Phew!

Much to my dismay, figuring out start times was going to be the least of my day’s problems. I began my warm-up with my bike on the trainer. It was going well considering my legs were feeling a little overcooked from yesterday. My legs were starting to open up and I was getting mentally prepared to gut it out for the under 10 minute race. I was on my last hard effort and all off a sudden I heard a loud POP! At first I thought it was my front tire going flat. No worries-I…..no Stephen would be able to change that fast enough to get to the start line on time. But that was not the problem. I blew the seal on my front fork/shock! Yes folks, a brand new shock with less than five rides on it and I already broke it. Grrrrrraaaaaooooorrrrrr! It was not something that was going to be fixed in less than five minutes. So Stephen pumped it up and I went off to ride the race with a blown front shock and the fron disc brake dragging hard.

I got to the start line on time and busted a gut trying to go fast on the “2 mile” course. I think they shortened the course because everything was still so muddy and sloppy. My goal was to not burn my legs out too fast – give myself a little time and then let’r rip! Well, on a blown out shock pedaling hard was a lost cause, with a disc brake that was dragging I felt like I was trying to move a cement wall. Also, with no air pressure in the shock it was like riding a full rigid bike-something I have not done since my purple Jamis many moons ago. I came across the finish line a little less muddy than yesterday and hightailed it to the bike wash to get my ride prepped for another tour of a neutral support tent.

Today’s neutral support of choice was Answer/Manitou. They had me pull the shock off the bike and leave it with them for an overhaul. I was so happy that they were going to be able to fix it. Phew again! Several hours later I went back to pick it up and the nice mechanic told me that the factory had “forgotten” to put oil in it before shipping it. No worries, I was happy that it was good to go with time to put the bike back together and go for a short spin.

No dice. While Stephen was remounting the shock and the disc brakes, the threads were stripped and the front disc brake could not be reattached. Grrrrrraaaaaooooorrrrrr! I hopped in the car for another trip back to the Answer/Manitou tent to see what if anything could be done to save the day. The nice mechanic now has my squashed caterpillar green fork ready to rethread it and will help put the bike back together tomorrow morning. Hopefully, that will give me enough time to spare before the third stage. Yikes!

Mechanicals aside, I finished 55th today. I am not pleased with the results, knowing I can do much better. But what I am learning is that mountain bike racing throws many different types of obstacles in your way that you have to adapt to or learn how to deal with quickly without wasting too much energy. I am keeping my fingers crossed that tomorrow will be a better day-even though we are getting more rain. Grrrrrraaaaaooooorrrrrr!

Look Ma! I’m racing pro! Sea Otter 4/6/06

STAGE ONE: SUPER CROSS Thursday, April 6, 2006

The Sea Otter Classic is considered one of the top mountain bike stage races in the world, attracting top pro competition from numerous countries. The Super Cross event was the first stage of the four day stage race. It was a five lap/60 minute race on a 5-mile, half-dirt, half-road circuit which started and finished on Laguna Seca raceway. The best part was that I raced with the top pro women mountain bike racers, including Gunn-Rita Dahle-Flesja, 2 time world champion and Olympic gold medalist from Norway.

For my first world class event I wanted to be early to get the lay of the land, find where start lines were going to be, parking, etc. Although I arrived the day before the race to check in and to give myself plenty of time to spare, it was frustrating. Registration was being run like a bank – a lot of people milling about but only one person who was taking customers. It took a half an hour to get to the front to find out that they still did not have number plates ready. Sigh. When I arrived back at the registration booth several hours later the promoters had just finished using a sharpie marker to finish making the numbers. Classy.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, pre-riding a race course is key to creating my race strategy. However, the previous 48 hours of inclement weather made for a muddy, murky, messy and uninviting race course. Still, I needed to understand the terrain. I decided to take a slow lap on the course and came back to the car to finish my warm-up with a mud covered bike. Stephen, my hubby, was not too pleased. He takes very good care of me at races-drives me to races, helps me get my gear together and makes sure that everything is in working order. It was a mad dash to get the bike clean so I could warm-up and get to the start line on time.

Arriving at the start line was a little overwhelming; probably because I could not find a gate to get through the Laguna Seca raceway fence. Finally, I worked my way around to line up with the largest pro mountain bike field I have ever raced in: 69 women. There were a lot of familiar faces from the local California race scene and I felt at home.

At the whistle we were off up the raceway’s pavement climb to the top of the corkscrew. I stayed right in the middle of the pack to get the best drafting action. Although these women are pro mountain bikers, they race on the road like beginners. They do not have very good pack skills and some even wrecked before we hit the first dirt section of the course. Luckily, I made it through unscathed and was in the top half of the group for the first lap.

On the second lap, I found out that my legs were not cooperating. I had pushed it hard through the muddy sections, powering through everything. The course did not allow for any places to rest. The only breaks were on the paved sections and that was if I could find a wheel to draft behind. Needless to say, my legs decided they were in overdrive. I had to pull back a bit and lost a few places.

By the third lap I was able to reacclimatize to the race. I kept pushing myself hard to take bigger risks and more challenging lines through the thick sloppy mud. It paid off. I was able to reclaim a few spots that I had lost on the second lap. I kept hearing the race announcer shouting over the loud speaker how Gunn-Rita was getting faster with each lap. All I kept thinking was that I was not going to get lapped.

For the fourth lap I picked up the pace even more. I knew I had to if I did not want Gunn-Rita to lap me. Her lapping me would mean I was going to get pulled from the race and get a time penalty. I hit the muddy downhill section with force only to get sucked into a rut that I had to work even harder to pedal my way out of to the pavement. (See the picture of my muddy backside.) A couple of the women I was right with until that section were able to pull ahead and create gap. It was time to dig deep into the reserves to get back on their wheels. Once we hit the pavement, I was right with them again. I figured it was a good time to wipe some of the mud off my face, but there was so much mud all over my gloves and sleeves, there was not a clean spot of cloth in sight. Taking a drink out of my water bottle was also out of the question.

I crossed the start/finish line for my fifth lap with a sigh of relief. There was no way I was going to get pulled from the race now. We cruised up the corkscrew for one last jaunt through the mud. It may have been one of my better laps. I was relaxed knowing that I was still in the race and that it was almost over. I muscled through the mud and pushed my way back to the last pavement section to the finish. There were two riders ahead of me, my teammate Chrissy and someone else. I put my head down to try and catch them. With no wheels around me to draft off of, I was on my own, dangling in the wind. I finally made it to the finish-just a few seconds from catching the two ahead of me, finishing in 47th place for the day.

Today I learned that even though mud is not that bad to race in, it sure is hard to clean off. Take a look at the pictures at the finish line. I am surprised that my transponder relayed my time. What is more surprising is that I burned through my brake pads and had to have them replaced. Thank you SRAM neutral support for getting my bike back in working order!

Race Smarter NOT Harder: Sagebrush Safari 4/2/06

Meatheads don’t always finish well even in mountain biking. And for the most part, I have raced like a meathead, relying purely on my brute strength. Evolving to become a better racer means I need to take in account other factors. It was my goal for the first “real” race of the season to build a strategy that suited my other racing talents. For the 24 mile course with significant amounts of paved climbs, awesome carved out downhills and a perfect high-60 degree sunny day, I was up for the smart challenge.

Pre-riding the race course was definitely my first smart move. Going into the race, I knew what to expect on the course and where I needed to push myself, pace myself and where the nice view was to stop and have a picnic. The race started out much like a road race. The cool part about this year’s race season is that most of the gals I raced with last year also upgraded to Pro too: Christie, Teri, Mandy, and Chrissy. So we cruised off the start line with a fairly large group of women. It was a short fast section of single track to the first pavement hill climb.

Knowing the hill climb was going to be sustained, I decided to park my wheel behind one of the fast Pro chicks, Tomarra of the Trek team, and let her pull me along. Drafting is one of the finer techniques I have been able to carry over from road racing. I guess I was not stealthy enough because she decided to play with me. She pulled off to the side a little bit and slowed down to “adjust her shoes.” Then she took off like a shot and I missed the opportunity to get back on her wheel. At least I was able to draft a little more than half way up the hill before I hit more dirt, saving valuable energy.

Once I hit the fun swooping single track I kicked it into gear. You see, climbing is a good way to stomp out aggression and feel like you have accomplished something because you are sweating and your muscles are talking back. But going downhill wicked fast is what puts a smile on my face. My teammate, Chrissy Bono, was right there with me. I was pedaling out of the turns, hanging it out just enough so that I was not on the verge of wrecking. It was so exhilarating. We even caught and passed some scrawny girls who had zipped up the hill, but they did not have the strength to hold their wheels over the bumps on the downhill.

After picking off some of the competition, it was time to teach some of the men on the course a lesson. We easily passed a bunch of men only to be recaptured on the next dirt climb. Really, it was a hike-a-bike hill and I decided to put my meathead hat back on and muscle it up and over some rocks. Needless to say, I did not get far and I even fell over on my side trying to get off my bike to push it up the hill. My pride was hurt as the hairy-legs scrambled up the hill past me. I was breathing so hard trying to get air into my lungs that I thought I was going to crack a rib. Chrissy played it smarter and was elegantly off the front.

Fortunately, another downhill adventure was close at hand. Once I found the downhill fire road at the end of the single track, I jumped into my biggest gear and paced myself back up to Chrissy. I caught her just before the entrance of the infamous Mt. Pinos climb. In previous races, this climb has been a dirt fire road, now it is paved. It twists and turns for over a couple of miles. Once you think you have arrived at top you come around the bend to see that you have only made it part of the way. It is quite the mind game. Riding with Chrissy made it much more enjoyable. We cheered each other on as we passed the “hero” racers who were stretched out straight as boards cramped on the side of the road or others who were walking their bikes because they did not drink enough water or eat enough during the ride. The only thing that kept me going on the climb other than my hubby cheering me on, was meeting up with more awesome descents.

Finally, we turned off to make one of the last fun roller coaster free falls. The top portion was a little tricky. For the climb I had turned my rear shock off and now I was clumsily searching for it in my post-climb delirium. It is not a good idea to reach down underneath my top tube to flip the switch while maintaining high speeds. I bounced all over the place taking the most treacherous lines. I clanged my pedals so hard on rocks that my feet were shot right off the pedals. Poor Chrissy has a hard tail bike and suffered from following my scenic routes.

At the bottom of the descent there was one last paved climb. I looked back and Chrissy was no where in sight. Figuring I was about 15 minutes from the finish line I decided to use everything I had left on the climb. Initially, I thought my legs were feeling fresh. Then I banked a turn during a short descent in the middle of the climb and stuck out my right knee……I found out quickly that my right quad was full of trolls twisting knots into my muscles. I rode out the cramp reasoning that stopping would only intensify the rigor mortis.

It was a smart move. I recovered by the last fast and fun descent. I passed a tandem – now those folks are crazy. Here is a picture of one that was in the race, not the one I passed, but image being the back rider and going downhill? It is like sending a big Mac truck down a hill without brakes. After the tandem, I passed several other guys who were unusually polite about letting me pass them and flew to the finish line for 3rd place!

Making the podium on the first mountain bike race of the season feels awesome. It is definitely a confidence boost for the upcoming races.