Win, lose or draw, Copperopolis is one of my favorite races. It was the first road race I ever won, when I was a cat 4 two years ago. But that’s not why I like it. Copper is a mental grind thanks to the deceivingly hard first climb, cross- and head-winds on the back section, false flats and infamous bumpy descent to the finish line. Last year I merely survived the P/1/2 field and finished. This year I set my sights on 35+ field and expected a good result with my form coming around. However, after a somewhat unexpected trip back east this past week I set aside any personal aspirations to gladly ride for Billy and Kevin, particularly with a really big field for a masters race on the start line.
The race went more or less than expected as we’d seemingly broken the will of much of the peloton after the 1st climb on lap 2. A few attacks and re-shufflings later, Kevin rolled away with a small group, which was one of the scenarios we’d hoped for. I spent the rest of the race playing policeman and shutting down attempts to bridge. At the end of the day Kevin ended up 3rd. Obviously we wanted the win but with Dan Bryant and Chris Phipps taking 1st and 2nd, it’s hard to find two nicer guys in the master’s peloton that you’d like to see on the podium.
Results aside, I still love this race. Somebody commented that “when you’re going good you don’t feel the bumps. When it’s a bad day, they’re worse.” Even though my legs were never great the bumps weren't all that bad.
-Chris Lyman
Monday, April 5, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
This is a little story about an apparent oxymoron, Larry Nolan and a race with over 5,000 feet of climbing. I apologize in advance if I embarass Larry in its telling.
I see Larry for the first time this morning at the start line. He informs me that he's had a nasty cold, hasn't ridden all week and that I may be on my own today. "Go for it and don't worry about me" he says. Hmm, what do I do now? Ride at the front, look for a promising break and be smart, this seems like the best approach. Fortunately it's a 45+ race and not the 35s. These guys have a knack of riding climbs briskly but noodling along on the flats, and covering any attacks that have any sort of threat but never pulling through on them, effectly neutralizing them regardless of when they go. A somewhat negative approach to racing. I know this and, of course, so does Larry.
What a surprise when this is exactly the way the race unfolds. On the first of three laps, the opening climb is done at tempo, I go near the front on the big climb and stay there. We start with about 60 guys in the group and I'm informed by Mike Vetterli, a racing buddy who rides for the Olympic Club, as we finish the climb and begin the inevitable noodle along the flats, that we did the climb between 320 and 340 watts and shed half the group. It seemed a lot easier than that to me and, happily, Larry is right beside me.
The climb on lap two is done with more enthusiam, led the entire way by John Ornstil, also a racing buddy on VOS. I stay glued to his wheel. The nice thing about racing as old men is we all tend to become racing friends, probably because of so much mutual suffering for nothing but the stories that ensue. This time Mike Vetterli informs me that we pushed it up about another 20 watts in the 340 to 360 range. Yeh that felt a little harder and now there was only a dozen or so of us left. I know the race needs special attention at this point even though we begin to noodle once again on the flats because, if I had my way, I'd test the metal of the group and I have to be sure I am ready if someone else has the same thought. I stay second or third wheel at this point and don't concern myself with what's behind me, ready to respond if someone wants to have a go. For some reason, I just come to the conclusion that I won't see Larry for the rest of the day.
Over the last 3 or 4 seasons, I've raced mostly in the 35s with only a few jaunts into the 45s. But I do know that for some strange reason, the pack always lets John Ornstil roll off the front at some point in the race, completely ignoring it like it isn't even happening and away goes John. Well, here's where it happens again. The first time check, 30 seconds, a collective shrug of the shoulders. The next check, 1 minute 30 seconds, same response. And on it goes until we reach the start of the final lap and it's gone to 3 minutes. Now there are a few rumblings in the group.
The final time up the climb, Mike Vetterli goes to the front and steps it up another notch. Cale Reeder from Echelon Grand Fondo/Z Team takes his wheel and I take Cale's. On one of the few areas of respite on the climb a guy gets between Cale and me, this turns out to be fortuitous. As we hit the steepest part of the climb about 3/4 of the way up, Cale overlaps Mike's wheel and goes down instantly. With a guy between Cale and me, it gives me enough time to swerve to miss the crash but nearly end up going down the bank on the opposite side of the road. I'm gapped and push it hard to get back. I get there by the time we reach the top. Oh yeh, guess what, we start to noodle even though the new time to John is 3 1/2 minutes.
I know you won't believe what happened next because it shocked the sh@#$ out of me. About 2 minutes into the noodle, Larry rides up beside me and says hello. I nearly fell off my bike. The race has taken a dramatic turn and I now need to do what I can to catch John. Fortunately I have a willing helper in Mike Vetterli and we cajol and at times badger the group into doing an orderly chase. The collective commitment ebbs and flows, but as the next time check shows, 1 minute 44 seconds, the carrot and stick approach is paying off.
Curiously and suddenly, the group shuts down the chase and there is only about 7 kilometers left to go. Hunter Ziesing, also of Echelon Grand Fondo/Z Team (actually the owner of the team), comes to the front and loudly announces, and I am paraphrasing, "I don't care if it kills me, I'm going to sacrifice myself to bring this back". This gets me excited and I take a pull. Immediately there is a final time check, 28 seconds and we have one final 300 meter hill to climb. This looks very good for us.
I go back to check on Larry. He says he's feeling some cramping and I should go to the front in case an attack goes on the final climb. He says if there is one, he won't be able to respond and I need to go with it. Advice heard and heeded. I get back to the front.
Mike Vetterli pushes it up the final climb but only at tempo and nobody seems either willing or able to attack. This is beautiful for Larry and me. The last piece of eye candy is John Ornstil 100 meters ahead of us as we start the final descent. We're on him instantly. Now all I have to do is guard against anyone getting away on the this screaming descent. I make sure I stay second wheel all the way down and Larry is either right beside me or on my wheel all the way to the bottom. I am sooooo jacked up.
But what am I supposed to do as we hit the bottom with 2 kilometers to the finish? This is where finishing school starts for me and something I want to impart to not just our juniors, but all our masters too.
Almost the instant I ponder what to do now, Larry screams "go Rob go!" Perfect! My thinking shuts down and I just go. Then Larry screams "harder!" and I go harder, then "faster" and "faster" again. Suddenly we are at the 1k to go sign and the turns to the finish begin. Larry yells "get left!", I go left. Then Larry shouts "go right!" I go right, and so it goes. No one comes around me and we are about 250 meters from the finish. Forget Larry's screaming, my legs are shattering my ear drums. Larry barks one last command "everything!". I obey.
At the 200 meter to go sign, I am fried and Larry comes flying by me. I suddenly see he has about 4 bike lengths on everybody. Uh oh! it's a false flat from about 50 meters to the finish. Larry cramps up and gets squeezed by about 1/2 a bike length by two guys and finishes third.
I roll to the finish and see Larry a little way down the road. The race has been over for about a minute and as I get to Larry I can see his hamstring muscles convulsing in spasm and knots right through his cycling shorts and I knew he had given everything.
How does he do it? Struggle all day, fighting to stay in striking distance on the climbs, clawing his way back on on the flats. 5,000 feet of climbing with his clydesdale body and suffering like nobody else has in the front group and still have the will to put himself in excrutiating pain from monster cramps and come within a bike length of winning. I guess all you have to see is his 14 or 15 world championships and you have the answer.
I will tell you it makes it easy for me when I see such courage, to bury myself to get him to the line. I will do it anytime, anywhere. Thanks Larry!
As a post script, I hope our juniors see the value in Larry's commands at the end of the race and it's something we need to always do as masters too. I am not a mind reader and we don't have the luxury of early season training camps to practice our lead outs to make them mindless. If you are the leader and your teammates are leading you out, scream at them with direct orders, loud, short and clear. It mitigates mistakes and always gives us the best chance of success.
I see Larry for the first time this morning at the start line. He informs me that he's had a nasty cold, hasn't ridden all week and that I may be on my own today. "Go for it and don't worry about me" he says. Hmm, what do I do now? Ride at the front, look for a promising break and be smart, this seems like the best approach. Fortunately it's a 45+ race and not the 35s. These guys have a knack of riding climbs briskly but noodling along on the flats, and covering any attacks that have any sort of threat but never pulling through on them, effectly neutralizing them regardless of when they go. A somewhat negative approach to racing. I know this and, of course, so does Larry.
What a surprise when this is exactly the way the race unfolds. On the first of three laps, the opening climb is done at tempo, I go near the front on the big climb and stay there. We start with about 60 guys in the group and I'm informed by Mike Vetterli, a racing buddy who rides for the Olympic Club, as we finish the climb and begin the inevitable noodle along the flats, that we did the climb between 320 and 340 watts and shed half the group. It seemed a lot easier than that to me and, happily, Larry is right beside me.
The climb on lap two is done with more enthusiam, led the entire way by John Ornstil, also a racing buddy on VOS. I stay glued to his wheel. The nice thing about racing as old men is we all tend to become racing friends, probably because of so much mutual suffering for nothing but the stories that ensue. This time Mike Vetterli informs me that we pushed it up about another 20 watts in the 340 to 360 range. Yeh that felt a little harder and now there was only a dozen or so of us left. I know the race needs special attention at this point even though we begin to noodle once again on the flats because, if I had my way, I'd test the metal of the group and I have to be sure I am ready if someone else has the same thought. I stay second or third wheel at this point and don't concern myself with what's behind me, ready to respond if someone wants to have a go. For some reason, I just come to the conclusion that I won't see Larry for the rest of the day.
Over the last 3 or 4 seasons, I've raced mostly in the 35s with only a few jaunts into the 45s. But I do know that for some strange reason, the pack always lets John Ornstil roll off the front at some point in the race, completely ignoring it like it isn't even happening and away goes John. Well, here's where it happens again. The first time check, 30 seconds, a collective shrug of the shoulders. The next check, 1 minute 30 seconds, same response. And on it goes until we reach the start of the final lap and it's gone to 3 minutes. Now there are a few rumblings in the group.
The final time up the climb, Mike Vetterli goes to the front and steps it up another notch. Cale Reeder from Echelon Grand Fondo/Z Team takes his wheel and I take Cale's. On one of the few areas of respite on the climb a guy gets between Cale and me, this turns out to be fortuitous. As we hit the steepest part of the climb about 3/4 of the way up, Cale overlaps Mike's wheel and goes down instantly. With a guy between Cale and me, it gives me enough time to swerve to miss the crash but nearly end up going down the bank on the opposite side of the road. I'm gapped and push it hard to get back. I get there by the time we reach the top. Oh yeh, guess what, we start to noodle even though the new time to John is 3 1/2 minutes.
I know you won't believe what happened next because it shocked the sh@#$ out of me. About 2 minutes into the noodle, Larry rides up beside me and says hello. I nearly fell off my bike. The race has taken a dramatic turn and I now need to do what I can to catch John. Fortunately I have a willing helper in Mike Vetterli and we cajol and at times badger the group into doing an orderly chase. The collective commitment ebbs and flows, but as the next time check shows, 1 minute 44 seconds, the carrot and stick approach is paying off.
Curiously and suddenly, the group shuts down the chase and there is only about 7 kilometers left to go. Hunter Ziesing, also of Echelon Grand Fondo/Z Team (actually the owner of the team), comes to the front and loudly announces, and I am paraphrasing, "I don't care if it kills me, I'm going to sacrifice myself to bring this back". This gets me excited and I take a pull. Immediately there is a final time check, 28 seconds and we have one final 300 meter hill to climb. This looks very good for us.
I go back to check on Larry. He says he's feeling some cramping and I should go to the front in case an attack goes on the final climb. He says if there is one, he won't be able to respond and I need to go with it. Advice heard and heeded. I get back to the front.
Mike Vetterli pushes it up the final climb but only at tempo and nobody seems either willing or able to attack. This is beautiful for Larry and me. The last piece of eye candy is John Ornstil 100 meters ahead of us as we start the final descent. We're on him instantly. Now all I have to do is guard against anyone getting away on the this screaming descent. I make sure I stay second wheel all the way down and Larry is either right beside me or on my wheel all the way to the bottom. I am sooooo jacked up.
But what am I supposed to do as we hit the bottom with 2 kilometers to the finish? This is where finishing school starts for me and something I want to impart to not just our juniors, but all our masters too.
Almost the instant I ponder what to do now, Larry screams "go Rob go!" Perfect! My thinking shuts down and I just go. Then Larry screams "harder!" and I go harder, then "faster" and "faster" again. Suddenly we are at the 1k to go sign and the turns to the finish begin. Larry yells "get left!", I go left. Then Larry shouts "go right!" I go right, and so it goes. No one comes around me and we are about 250 meters from the finish. Forget Larry's screaming, my legs are shattering my ear drums. Larry barks one last command "everything!". I obey.
At the 200 meter to go sign, I am fried and Larry comes flying by me. I suddenly see he has about 4 bike lengths on everybody. Uh oh! it's a false flat from about 50 meters to the finish. Larry cramps up and gets squeezed by about 1/2 a bike length by two guys and finishes third.
I roll to the finish and see Larry a little way down the road. The race has been over for about a minute and as I get to Larry I can see his hamstring muscles convulsing in spasm and knots right through his cycling shorts and I knew he had given everything.
How does he do it? Struggle all day, fighting to stay in striking distance on the climbs, clawing his way back on on the flats. 5,000 feet of climbing with his clydesdale body and suffering like nobody else has in the front group and still have the will to put himself in excrutiating pain from monster cramps and come within a bike length of winning. I guess all you have to see is his 14 or 15 world championships and you have the answer.
I will tell you it makes it easy for me when I see such courage, to bury myself to get him to the line. I will do it anytime, anywhere. Thanks Larry!
As a post script, I hope our juniors see the value in Larry's commands at the end of the race and it's something we need to always do as masters too. I am not a mind reader and we don't have the luxury of early season training camps to practice our lead outs to make them mindless. If you are the leader and your teammates are leading you out, scream at them with direct orders, loud, short and clear. It mitigates mistakes and always gives us the best chance of success.
Copperopolis Road Race
Copperopolis Road Race is probably my favorite race in all of Northern California. Last year, I won it in the junior 15-16 field but this year, I decided to compete in the Elite 3's race with Marcus Smith and Andrew Lanier. There were 47 people entered in the race and on the first climb, people were already getting dropped. I made sure I was always near the front to stay out of trouble on the narrow roads. On the second lap of the race, four guys broke away from the field. Going up the big climb on the third lap, I attacked and tried to bridge up to the break on my own. I was about 10 seconds away from the break but then I turned into a strong crosswind section and the gap increased. A group of about 12 people swept me up. Once I was reeled back in, nobody wanted to work together to catch the break. Two guys got dropped from the break and the group I was in swallowed them up and spit them back out. On the final lap, I probably attacked four or five times to chase on my own but the group would work together to bring me back and then stop working once I was caught. We never caught the break and I ended up finishing 5th.
Copperopolis
Yesterday, the Copperopolis race was very bumpy, windy, and cold. I started the day racing with the 15-16's, who did 2 laps. The race started with Alistair Eckman pushing the pace very hard on the first climb, which caused almost everyone in the group but six to get dropped including me. Since I was dropped, I decided to wait for Chris LaBerge so he could have someone to work with. On the second lap I decided to stop at the feed zone because I knew my chances of catching the pack was very slim. At that point I figured I had enough time to sign up for the 13-14's race so that I could help Jack. In the 13-14's there was an attack by Zeke Mostov on the first climb, which was really early to go but this caused the pack to split up. On the flat, there were 6 riders, including Jack and me, who chased Zeke as hard as we could but amazingly he stayed away and won the race. The chasing group finished with Jack getting 2nd and I behind him getting 3rd.
On another note, a week ago I was able to achieve one of my goals set for this season....I upgraded to CAT 3! I am now looking forward to racing with a faster and more experienced group. This weekend will be my first CAT 3 race in Napa and Menlo Park and I am excited. Let the fun (or hurt) begin!!!!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
San Dimas Hills Road Race
Last Saturday I won my first 3s race at San Dimas 1 day before my birthday. They team worked great. We ended the week 5th and 8th. The full is below
The RR was Saturday. We rode well and stayed near the front. Daniel won a Hot Lap for a time bonus and Andrew was in some early attacks but nothing stuck. After the second Hot Lap I rolled off the front and rode a half lap before I was caught. On the KOM climb Torey drilled it each lap and almost dropped me. With 2 laps to go we were neutralized by the 2s and then the pros. This gave me a chance to recover.
On the final lap 2 riders had a small gap. I followed a Ritte rider who won a race I did in Las Vegas. He brought me to the break. I talked to him, encouraging him to keep going. He pulled me to the break. We immediately dropped one rider and a BH rider wasn't working. I told Ritte to keep going and I gapped the BH rider. He was Verbally upset when I gapped him. I passed Ritte and kept going. I was alone for a while, during which another rider bridged to the break. When the caught me we were now 4 and worked well together. On a quick chicane BH's rear wheel slid out and he almost lost control. The new rider left us on the climb. I gambled and followed Ritte's wheel. He brought me to close to the line, but a rider from the pack attacked and passed us. I chased him down and did a bike throw. I won by a few pixels.
This was my first win in an elite field and just a day before my birthday.
Thanks to all my teammates who helped control the race.
Monday, March 22, 2010
San Dimas
Does anyone have a spare chain catcher?
San Dimas stage race was defined by a simple dropped chain. First stage was a simple uphill time trial, which I spent deep in the pain cave. 4 miles up Glendora Mountain was plenty hard, but I finished 59th out of 118, not bad for my third race of the year. The rest of the team finished in a similar time.
Photo from the Glendora Mountain Road Blog
It's really hot in LA, especially for an Oregonian used to 50 degrees and cloudy, 80's and direct sun is quite a bit different. Going into the road race the team's goal was for me to get into a break and win some King of the Mountain Points and the Jersey, but the best laid plans mean nothing during a race. Eamon Lucas, James LaBerge and I all carried out the plan for the first couple laps of the race. We stayed at the front, I claimed third in a KOM sprint, we all attacked, we all were brought back, oh and I dropped my chain on the base of the KOM climb. Welcome to the pain cave. I went from top 30 to the back, jumping off my bike, throwing the chain back on, climbing on the bike, and chasing like a madman to regain contact. However luck was not on my side; that lap was a sprint lap, so the group charged down the hill, and sped to the hot lap sprint. Meanwhile, I put my head down and chased by myself for a lap. Then I caught some other riders off the back, and we grouped up to chase together.
Now remember the heat. People started to pop; I started to break. On the 5th lap of chasing my body gave up. I couldn't drink enough water. I couldn't handle heat. I was broken. I started dry heaving, but there was nothing there. I feeblely finished. 17 minutes down, but still I finished. Unfortunately, not inside the time cut. I guess there is a first time for everything.
The next day was a crit, one that I had traveled 2000 miles to end up spectating. While this was not the choice situation, I had to live with it. Luckily James and Eamon created something worth watching. Those two controlled the Cat 2 race. Eamon gave a great lead out, and James claimed second place, while Eamon captured fourth place. I wish I could have raced so badly. It sucks to watch a race you should be part of, especially over something as dumb as a little dropped chain.
As much as I lament on my misfortune, the weekend was really fun. Spending time with the team is tons of fun. Doing dumb stuff like jumping in the pool in full kit after a hard race never gets old. Road trips where giggling passes the miles are always great. Riding an amazing Specialized Tarmac SL2 never hurts either.
Related, story my teammate Marcus Smith won the Cat 3 road race, in a fantastic two up sprint with the pack charging behind them.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Christmas in March!!
Thank you to NCCF and all of our sponsors! It feels like Christmas all over again(shoes, helmet, glasses, jacket, hat, shirt, and BIKE!) I am so proud to be wearing the big "S" and representing our team every weekend. This is my first chance to ride with one of the top jr. teams and I am enjoying every minute of it.
This weekend was my first time racing at the Merco crit and road race. In the jr crit our team lead out James, I was so thrilled to see my teammate win so I raised my hands in victory as I crossed the finish line. Today was the road race and I raced against jrs. that were twice my size. During the first lap the San Jose guys were attacking on the rollers but Chris, Jack, and I were able to cover them all. As we approached the 2nd lap there was a big attack from Matthew Koenig which I followed. This attack left us with 5 in the lead group which grew to over a minute and a half (according to the lead moto). As we approached the final hill I knew I didn't have much left in my legs but suffered through it because I didn't want to get caught by the chasing group. In the sprint I got 5th place against those older jrs. Overall, I had lots of FUN!
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