"E-PEE-EYE-SEE!?!"

"E-PEE-EYE-SEE!?!" What kind of race/ride "qualifies" as an "Epic" one? Well, I guess it depends on what side of the handle bars you're looking from. I tend to be picky when it comes to awarding a ride with this badge of honor. The ride out in Bodega Bay last month with mah boy and the UCD Aggie Elite squad, 97 miles, King Ridge, Cruz Ranch, oodles of quad ripping climbs, on some of the most beautiful roads in Nor Cal, wind, rain, mud, in 5 hours...definitely earned the badge...maybe. Worlds Toughest Mt. Bike Race in 2004...90 miles, +13,000' of climbing, dislocated shoulder, piano player in the middle of nowhere up at Rubicon Springs, great friends, family meeting us half way and only seeing us for 5 min in the parking lot at Loon Lake, mah boy running along side us for the first 100m cheering us on as we continued and me having to tell him to turn back, hitting 52 MPH on a fat tire rig, in ? hours, insane ride home, lifelong friends...definitely earns the badge. This weekends festivities down in Snelling Ca., especially the early morning events, wind, rain, no less than 3 water crossings, mud, manure, debris all over the road, dodging moto refs and emergency vehicles at high speed, and loosing almost half of the field by the 3rd lap? Pin it!


Getting up at 4 am hurts when you find yourself still on the trainer at 8 pm the night before. Is there a cure for stubbornness? Think it's called a kick in the a$$! Sometimes there just aren't enough hours in a day, especially for those of us who've achieved Jedi status in the art of procrastination. (raising my hand right now...you can't see it) Isn't it funny how we've managed to program ourselves to do the same simple duties morning after morning without even thinking about it? Before I've even opened my left eye, I'm at the kitchen sink filling the kettle and scooping the perfect amount, of carefully measured coffee into the press pot. Getting much better at the pre-race prep though. AJ and I were up, gear loaded and out the door in an hour...not bad considering the sleeping habits of a 17 year old. We were already in Sac when I realized that I'd forgotten my contact lenses. Seeing is highly overrated in a racing situation anyway...right?
Snelling Road Race is considered by many to be the "Official" kick off for the NorCal race season. This was only the 2nd time doing this race for AJ and I, so we really didn't know what to expect. We'd missed it last year and it was only our 2nd race as "Roadies" ever, so apart from the weather, the bumpy roads, and some colorful people at registration, we really didn't remember much of anything.
Registration this year was pretty uneventful and surprisingly smooth. Buzz about the road conditions was already bounding across the parking lot. I tried my best to block it all out and just focus on my race prep. Knee warmers? A quick glance upwards showed no signs of letting up. Dark, ominous clouds filled with love from above as far as the eye could see. I caught myself smiling and breathing it all in as the rain drops kissed my cheeks. "Lots of oxygen in the air today." I thought to myself as I took a puff from my inhaler. For the past 2 weeks I'd been fighting a bad sinus infection with bronchitis. The Dr. actually asked how long I'd been a smoker because I was wheezing so bad. The inhaler was something new for me. JB walks up and asked if we'd come in on Keys Rd. "No" Judd replied. Then he proceeded to tell us about the lake crossing.
With all the rain we'd had, the road had a section just beyond the "feed zone" that was about 8" deep and about 20 meters across. "Nope, no knee warmers for me!" I dawn the rubber gloves and bust out The "Hot Sauce." AJ and I had recently tried some new embrocation, Q-oleum 3. We'd used too much the last ride and ended up paying the price. This stuff is so F'ING hot that it actually felt like I'd poured battery acid on road rash covered legs. Seriously, it almost brought me to tears in the shower. Taking a cold shower after a "FA-RRRI-GID" ride is absolutely out of the question, so I had to endure the pain. My legs were on FIRE! I was NOT making that same mistake today. Another lesson I'd learned? Don't put your energy gels under the legs of your bibs for quick access when you have said embrocation on your legs! This stuff on your lips and tongue...not recommended. :0/
Sitting at the start line and Paula confirms what JB had told us about "The Lake." 8" deep, about 25m long. Not only was there that one, but there were 2 more on the back side of the course. Greeeeat! Good to see so many familiar faces though. For the most part, the Masters 35+123 crowd is a bunch of coool cats and I was jazzed, no matter what the conditions, to be lining up with them. I take a quick glance around, all the usual suspects. J. Brown, Bradley, Baker, Phipps, Innes, LaBerge, Holtz, Fonseca, Martin, Nils, Melcher, Spence, etc. Joining me were my teammates, Judd, Chad, JB, and Robin. I liked our chances. Today was going to be a "Hard man's" race no doubt about it.
The whistle blows and we're off. Not even 5 min. in, I hear "Pssssss!" Some poor, unlucky (or lucky considering the weather and road conditions) dude flatted. "Well, that's the end of his day!" said the guy next to me. I was about 3 wheels behind Chad, JB, and Robin and couldn't see Judd. I take a peek back and still, nothing. "No way could it be my only teammate that's not in front of me!" I tell myself. I see Chad scanning, then turn his attention back to the front and see nothing in his body language that suggests anything, so, I pedal on. About 2 miles later, Spence rolls up to me and says, "Hey Jas, I don't know if you know it already, but that was Judd that flatted back there." "WHAT!?!" I reply and immediately hit the brakes and float to the back. Once there, I realize that he'd had a better chance of rolling back to the car and grabbing another wheel than me turning and riding back. A quick glance around and I see Phipps, Innes, LaBerge, and Melcher all just kickin' it on the back. I ask Phipps how far back he thought Judd was. "He's quite a ways back man." "If he's lucky, he'll get into the P12's." I look back and see nothing but green rolling hills and wet pavement.
Judd was our top rider and now we're down to 4 of us. This changes things. I wasn't sure what I'd have and really didn't feel all that good so I figured I'd kick it in the back with 3-4 of the top guys in our category and watch them for the 1st lap to see what they'd do.
The first lap was a blur. It was full of surges, and being on the back of an 80+ rider pack, dealing with the accordion effect of sprinting and braking was hell on the nerves. The 1st time through "The Lake" was crazy. Guys were freaking out, hitting their brakes, swerving all over the place, and being on the back, not only did I have to plow my way through the water, but I was being hit with waves from every direction from the riders before me. I remember thinking, "Well, so much for staying dry!" as my entire bike moved 4 inches to the left. I was soaked from head to toe. Picture Garfield the cat's face as he surrenders himself to whatever life altering travesty that Odie the dog had bestowed upon him...yup, that was me. Sprinting full out to catch back on to the pack was fun too. Once there, I had time to register what had just happened, and realized that my mouth was full of grit. I reach down, grab a water bottle, put it up to my mouth without looking and get a mouth full of mud...or, what I thought was mud. The smell that was wafting through my half congested sinus's wasn't the smell of wet soil. Gagging now, I squirt my face off and take a drink. Nothing like a mouth full of manure to wake ya up in the morning! Yay! Protein.
There was debris strewn across the road on every corner and wind seemingly coming from every direction. I pretty much stuck with Phipps and would move up whenever he did. JB, Chad, and Robin were all looking strong and seemingly managed to keep out of the wind for the most part. I'd look up and see JB hammering to cover moves and would make my way to the front for a brief stint. Every time through the smaller water crossing on the back it seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. A few guys would go up the road, but nothing was sticking and the pack was pretty much staying together. There were a few guys that got tangled up after riding onto the shoulder, but other than that, I didn't see any crashes.
By the third lap, I'd figured out that if I just barreled through the left side of the lake, I'd avoid the idiots that were braking and not have to chase so hard to get back on...that, and making my way up towards the front on the hill through the feed zone helped a bit too. Racing without my contacts wasn't such a bad thing after all. Especially on a day like this. Other than the fact that I had to rely on others to tell me who was up the road, it wasn't so bad. I'd began to rely on the crossings to wash all of the crap and debris off my glasses and legs. I look up and see Chad bouncing on his bike and looking down. Damn, another puncture. And then there were 3.
Earlier in the race I'd been chatting with Phipps. He'd said he was pretty sure it would stay together. I jokingly told him that I knew it was just a matter of time before he went, and to give me a signal when he did. I'd been watching Innes as well. I don't think the expression on his face ever changed. Like a flippin' machine, that guy just pedaled on, his helmet cocked to the left side, hardly looking like he was even working up a sweat. I'd lost track of he and Phipps after moving up when Chad flatted. Coming through the finish to start the last lap, I see AJ at the line cheering me on. I tell him to grab my vest that I was taking off. Barley getting it off before the right hander, I throw it to the side of the road and look up to see the pack strung out. I hit the gas and try to find the slightest bit of draft while tiptoeing the gutter. I see JB at the front drilling it. His vest flapping in the wind like a superhero's cape. There was a gap that was getting bigger with about 20 guys up the road, and we weren't in it. Not good. I jump up 2 wheels to Robin and yell, "We've gotta move up!" I barely finish saying that and he moves 3' to the left and throttles it all the way to the front with me glued to his wheel. Once there, we roll by JB who looked thrashed. I say, "Get in J!" as Robin continued to turn that big engine of his at the front of the pack. I glance around and realize that no one is going to help us. The gap was growing, and was at about 100m at that point. I take a few deep breaths, squeeze my drops, and hit the gas with everything I've got.
I've closed plenty of gaps before, and, have created my fair share, but I've never successfully solo bridged up to a break. "I'm committed now!" I'm not sure just how long it took, but it seemed like I chased for about 10 min. I was about 20m off the back of the pack when we hit the feed zone. I poured myself all over the front of my bike and threw caution to the wind through the S turn and hit the water crossing like a buffalo charging across a river. I glance through my arm pit and catch a glimps of a wheel and say, "C'mon man!" By then, I've made it already. I've no idea how long he'd been there. Lesson learned though. Just as I get there, Innes attacks and the group shatters. I pick my way through riders who are throwing out anchors left and right and hit the gas again. I'm back on. I take 2 deep breathes, then realize what I'd just done. A smile barely starts to crack the sides of my face when Innes attacks again! F__K! I'm on a Safeway guys wheel and a gap opens. I've got just enough air in my lungs to say, "Grab that wheel!" He proceeds to tell me, "I can't man!" "You don't know how bad I want to, but I've got noth..." I'm thinking, as he continues, "If he can say all that crap, then he can grab that F-ing wheel!" I jump again. His voice trails off as I focus my attention on Baker's wheel. I chase for another minute or so, I get so close I can spit on Baker's back, but just can't hold the pace. I look up to see that 3 guys had gone up the road from the 4 that I was trying to chase, and helplessly watch as Baker's wheel gets smaller, and smaller. It takes a minute or 2, but I fall back to Nils, a Taleo guy, and the long winded Safeway guy. Nils and I try to get something going. I tell the Taleo guy that his teammate was off the back of the lead group and is now in the 2nd group of 4, and that his best bet was to help us reel the 4 in and have his guy sit on the back as the 7 of us work to bring back the lead group, but he was not having any of it. I was so pissed! Nils was going on about something too. I guess he was the one that started the break in the first place and something had happened. The thing I love about Nils, is that he just wants to race hard, not matter what. He had 2 guys up the road, but he just wanted to race. Love it! One last effort to talk the Taleo guy into helping was futile, so I left him with, "Good job man, you're racing for 4th place...well done!" We were eventually swallowed by the pack. Robin rolls by and says, "You need to hide!" I do my best to do just that. with about 3 miles to go, I was trashed. I tuck in behind one of Nils' teammates, don't remember his name, but I know he's a strong rider and do my best impression of a parasite. I'm not giving up anything. I'm stuck to his wheel like a 2 week old exploded gu in a jersey pocket. We make our way to the front along the last long crosswind bumpy section and as soon as we hit the right hand turn onto the finishing stretch, Robin guns it.
I'm sitting about 12 wheels back and know I'm too far back. I take a peek up and see guys exploding and starting to ride backwards down the right side. I jump to the left, skimming the back of some guys tire and punch it with everything I've got. I feel my quads rip wide open and my lungs shrivel to the size of raisins as I pick up rider after rider. I see the line rocketing towards me and barley see the guy on the front let go of his bars as I throw my bike at the line taking the field sprint. AJ later told me that I looked like a beast, grunting and giving an all out gutteral yell as I threw my bike at the line. "That was so awesome Dad!" he said as we rolled back to the car. I looked over as he gave his best impression of me. Cool man.
So, 8th place wasn't the finish we were hoping for, but, given the circumstances, and the fact that we lost almost half the field by the 4th lap, not too shabby. I was so stoked that AJ was there to see the finish. Again, I got all welled up when I was watching him imitate me. He was so proud of me. It was an incredible feeling. One I'd never experienced before. More importantly, he watched me take a field sprint. Every time we go out and do our sprint workouts, no matter where they are, I'm lucky if I can beat him once. Usually I'm several meters behind him. Hopefully it'll give him a bit of confidence in himself. I tell ya, once that kid realizes what he's got, he's gonna be a force to be reckoned with. I can't wait.

Epic? I think so.

Thanks for reading.