Due to factors completely out of my control like my computer crashing, my dog eating my day runner, my PDA going on the blink, multiple leap years and the Coriolis effect, I failed to remember your birthday by four days. For that I am sorry, there really is no good excuse. SO Happy Birthday a few days late. So I don't reveal your REAL age...let's just call it 21 and change.
Pescadero Road Race (skinny tires) Pescadero, CA
If I had a picture to show you, you know I would... but I was too busy racing to get anything worthy of sharing.
One thing I love about racing bikes...you never really know what's going to happen until it happens. Sometimes you are surprised by you abilities and other times, like yesterday, your inabilities. Yesterday's race went terribly. Training-wise, I was all set up to have a great race on a course that suits my riding capabilities. Lot's of climbing, some false flats, and some twisty descents. All of which I have dramatically improved on this year.
I knew first thing Saturday morning when the alarm rang at 4:00 am that I was not in the zone. As I got out of bed, my body just felt wrong...all up tight and sore. I had a tough workout on Wednesday morning, but I had ample time to recover from that.
When I started warming up before the race, I knew something was up. I was feeling fatigued at even low power-outputs. No need to alarm myself yet. I have had some of my best races feeling like this in the warm-up. I started to feel a bit better by the last ten minutes of the warm-up.
I have never ridden this course before so my plan was to just sit in the first of three laps and get a feel for the course. That is unless I see a formidable break happen...and of course, I did. I went with it.
Chris Barry from Team Spine and a guy named Jan (he claimed) went up the road. I have ridden with both guys enough to know that there was some serious horsepower between those guys. We were working well together. We had a good 30-40 second gap. I was hoping we could get at least two more guys to bridge up to us, specifically a couple of strong guys. To no avail. After ten minutes, we were not gaining any ground and the group was coming back up to us. Our break-a-way group was going to get swallowed up. Once we did, I was ready for another jump if the right guys went.
We rolled into the big climb as one big group and that's when it hit me. Attacks started happening and I could not cover them. I had NOTHING! I was kicking the dashboard, flicking the dials looking for anything, but NOTHING. "Scotty, take us to warp speed," but nothing.
My stomach was feeling a bit off in the morning, but on that climb, it turned inside out. I was afraid that I might, "ahem", purge myself, but I could not tell which direction it might go, up or down. My game plan went from trying to win this thing to just surviving it.
For the next two laps, I was suffering an internal dilemma like never before. Sick to my stomach and legs of Jell-O with shards of glass sums up my physical status, but you never know how it will turn out. I was still in the main group, and nobody was going up the road...I may be able to make this happen.
On the second time up the climb, I managed to get to the front at the beginning and drift backwards through the group so I didn't have to surge just to stay in contact. I was in the back of the group by the top, but in contact still. All I had to do was sit in for the last lap and gun it with all I had on the final climb.
Bad luck can strike on bad days too. Just as I neared the top of the climb with the last five guys still in contact, a car decided to try and pass us on the blind hill at the crest. He managed to nearly get into a head on with an oncoming car at the top and then stopped in our lane at the start-finish line as the race officials were yelling at him to get out of the way. Meanwhile, us five are yelling at him to get out of the way as the group sped off without us. Passing was not an option without risking life and limb as cars are coming at us head-on and there is no room on the right side because of the ditch. We were screwed. Finally the car sped off with us in tow behind him. We could descend far faster than the car, but this guy was NOT letting us around. A few guys made life threatening passes around a blind turn and nearly paid the ultimate price for it. This is just a race for training and nothing more...so I sat patiently and waited...and drafted behind him. Finally he pulled over, but I was so far behind at this point it was pointless.
Another guy caught up to me. I informed him that I was going as far as Pescadero and if we did not catch the group, I was pulling as my stomach was now a a quagmire. I set myself on the front and pulled. I was essentially in time trial mode. Head down and on the gas. We ended up catching the group of 5 guys a mile from Pescadero. I wanted to turn in so bad, but now I had to finish. I managed to sit in on the group and take an occasional pull. I had just buried myself for 30 minutes trying to catch them, so they understood why I was not pulling every rotation. Besides, we were out of the main group, so we were riding tempo, not racing, but anything could happen...
By the time we reached the bottom of the last climb, we had reeled in a few stragglers and moving pretty good. I made one last pull to the base of the climb and thanked them for the pull, I was checkin-out. I wanted to just ride tempo up the climb, they could race if they felt so inclined. Mentally I knew I would catch them without punching it at the bottom. They took off, gapped me pretty good as I settled into a 300 watt tempo (about all I could sustain today, far below what I am capable on a normal day). Just as I predicted, those guys faded and I caught them and passed them as I stayed at my steady tempo. I was passing others that had blown-up from the main group. We were closer than we thought.
With 1k to go my group jumped me again...sort-of. I decided to let them know who was boss here. I got out of the saddle passed them all, pulled away and then shut her down 30 meters from the finish because again there were cars in the way. Come to find out we were very near the main group at the finish as they kept surging and sitting up as they were posturing for the finish climb. I am glad I decided to stay with it instead of taking that oh-so inviting turn to the cars in Pescadero. I really suffered, but I also managed to fight through it an make good on it even if I was not in the mix. This will pay off later, I can assure you.
I guess the lesson here is even if you think you are having a bad day, it can get worse. You have to keep on trying with all of your might because no matter how fruitless it might seem, at least you are trying to improve yourself. It's either that or just surrender and become a victim of your own circumstance. I prefer to stay and fight.
Monday was a tough day. I was coming unglued. I had dealt with a few tough customers over the weekend plus I went on a blind date that I thought went well, but she didn't agree. I needed to get away for a few days. Luckily I had two days in a row planned off of work. My plan was to head to my cabin near Pinecrest Lake and ride Sonora Pass on the road bike one day and Pinecrest Peak mountain bike trail the second day. I needed to just get away for a few days where there is no e-mail, no cell phones and where I can just unplug. My cabin is the perfect place for that.
Tuesday morning, I awoke to the sound of rain on the roof and thunder in the valley. Failing to have any desire to submit myself to inevitable hypothermia and possible elecrocution up on Sonora Pass, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Riding the pass requires not only every ounce of desire you've got, but some luck with the weather as well and I knew better than to be up there at nearly 10,000 feet in a storm. I'll save it for some other day.
After a hearty brunch, tons of coffee and a good nap, I decided that I should probably do something active so I headed to Pinecrest Lake to take a hike at sunset. In my 33 years of going to the lake, I have never seen it as full as it is right now.
Little did I know this would play a significant role in Wednesday's ride (more on that later). With the rain finally stopped and the clouds finally clearing, it made for a great sunset.
Wednesday morning I awoke to clear skies and warmer temperatures. Not wanting to risk riding the pass with the freshly fallen snow, I decided to go for a mountain bike ride on Pinecrest Peak Trail. I had never ridden this trail before so I had no trail knowledge. I stumbled on one of the best trails I have ever been on. It starts out climbing up a Forest Service Road along Herring Creek with a ton of great scenic views along the way.
One spot I stopped to dunk the legs in the creek just to cool off as the nine mile gradual climb was getting quite warm under the high Sierra sun.
As I reached the 7200' mark according to my GPS, I hit patches of snow and finally constant snow. My ride was turning into a push. I must have trudged two miles through the snow. Luckily I wore some wool socks and despite that, my feet started to turn numb. There was so much snow that the road signs were all but buried. I managed to find my way, traveling somewhat on instinct.
I finally reached the peak to find an amazing bird's eye view of Pinecrest Lake and the surrounding Sierra peaks of Tahoe to the North and Yosemite to the South. The trail literally dives off the peak onto a very faint singletrack on granite shale. Down, down, down the trail dives. Quickly it reaches into the trees where the trail is quite a bit more distinguishable. As if the granite shale and boulders were not challenging enough but the pine cones were a whole new challenge.
Clearly I was the first person to travel this trail this year. I saw no other tire or foot tracks on the snow above, and in places the trail was covered in so many pine cones, downed branches and boulders that I was really the first for sure. There were many times where I had to hurdle downed trees as well, which all made for a great adventure.
The trail ends up along the creek that is downstream from the Pinecrest Dam. As I noted earlier, the lake was full. So full, in fact that the creek was a raging river. Normally, you can ride through the creek, jump onto the fire road and you are five minutes from the trailhead. Not today. I was now at the greatest challenge of the whole ride. It was not scampering across desolate snow fields with little or no evidence of the road I was to follow with frostbitten toes. It is how to ford this creek turned river by all of the overflow from the dam which is near flood stage.
I hiked upstream with my bike till I found this downed tree that looked like it would work as my bridge. Carefully I hoisted my bike onto my back Cyclo-Cross style and balanced on the fallen tree. I made my way over the 40 feet of raging waters to the other side where I had to now climb up and over the roots of the downed tree. This probably looked funny to the fishermen on the banks of the creek. Some skinny lycra clad dude carrying an expensive carbon mountainbike across a creek on a log and having to scale the roots of the tree and crawl up the boulders on the bank to reach safe ground. I managed to avoid any dirt naps in the pine cones and any scrapes from downed branches all day till I climbed over that last boulder. So I guess it's not a great ride till you bleed.
I gotta get back here and ride.
More pictures of the trip can be found on my new Flickr site.
Happy Birthday TNW if you are reading this.
I went away for a couple of days to unplug...here is a photo teaser of my forthcoming blog entry...
We have had some amazing experiences while chasing the races all across the country. More times than not, we ended up driving their van which had so much room that we could fit 6 comfortably plus all the bikes. We ended up driving in shifts in order to get to where we were going, fast. Often for 20 hours + at a time as we all had jobs we were playing hookey from and had to expedite our trip and minimize the expenses. 
We had it down to a science. Two sleeping, two eating, and two sharing the driving/navigating/DJ responsibilities. Despite all of this time cooped up in confined spaces and nearly running out of gas in the middle of the night in the middle of wherever it was (It was too dark to know), I enjoyed every minute of it. I could not have shared my time with better people.
Without Forrest at the start line and in the race, I am not sure I would still be here. It never mattered who beat who because we both reveled in the experience and not in the results, both on and off the course. 
These past few years I have missed lining up with one of my best friends.
Happy Birthday Forrest. Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you're getting older. See you in Tahoe and Yosemite again soon. Friday night, Nick D. and I loaded up the car and headed for the hills. Our destination was again, Tahoe. This time to join a group of friends from all over Northern California to ride around the lake to celebrate our good friend Shannon's birthday on Saturday.
Happy Birthday Shan! 
Ummm...waterskiing anyone???
The plan was to start in Kings Beach and ride clockwise around the lake. (For all of you NASCAR fans that happen to stumble onto this site looking for "Patrick 'Swifty' Bush," NASCAR racer...that's reverse direction). 
Forrest (a.k.a. "Off the Couch") informed me that he was relieved to find out we were going clockwise. He reminded me that this was shorter by a couple of miles of the two directions as we are always on the inside of the turn. The theory holds true. The GPS on my bike that the guys from Motion Based provided me with recorded 70.22 miles, while America's Most Beautiful Ride Claims it's 72 miles.
Eleven of us started the ride...and only one did not finish. Josh H. (a.k.a. "The Hitcher") decided to run into the back of Nick's bike while both were watching some Chucklehead laying in the road on the other side cause he couldn't get unclipped.
So... Hitcher hits Nick's rear cassette, blew out his front tire and took an "asphalt nap." He had multiple small cuts and one deep one on the side of his knee. He was going to need stitches. Living true to his nickname, Hitcher hitched a ride into South Lake to get stitched up and call for a ride home. His day was done...but we had miles to go before ours was over.
With an unending supply of some of the most beautiful scenery, the ride ended too quickly. We managed to avoid any more victims and rode at a reasonable pace back to Kings Beach. A few crazies, including Shannon "It's My Birthday, and I'll ride if I want to" decided to go for another lap. No joke, they gobbled down a burrito and headed out for another lap. I was tempted to join, but I promised Dario, my coach, I would take it easy (which is hard for me). Forrest, Anne-Marie, Nick and I decided to head to the lake to soak the legs and take in the sights before we headed home. It was great to just sit at the lake and catch-up with good friends...if only we could have stayed longer. Next time...
On our way home, Nick and I stopped for coffee at Wild Cherries in Truckee and to meet up with his friend Tau. Instead of his usual burst of psychosis where he starts chattering like a chipmunk on crack 20 minutes and 30 seconds after his first sip of coffee, Nick passed out. Good thing he was driving...
Next time...I am staying another day and I doing two laps...
Enjoy the ride...
