Race Report: 1987 Revenge of the Siskiyous

The Revenge of the Siskiyous may have been the low point in my racing journey. The course itself, at 47 miles with 8,000 feet of climbing, would have presented a challenge even at the pinnacle of my fitness. Unfortunately, I was not only on the downslope of my peak but also exhausted.

In late April and May I raced four times, placing fourth twice and winning twice in the Sport class. I was fit and fast and confident. On the last day of May I raced as an Expert for the first time and struggled. I attribute that one mostly to a Bay Area course that didn't suit me well, but I definitely think my fitness was waning. The next day, as the calendar flipped to June, began a hellish month I really regret.

I was working part time at Frank's Bicycle Lane in Roseville, California. My motives for working at a bike shop were pretty simple: Work just enough hours to pay for my racing habit and get the parts I needed at a deep discount.

Everyone had a clear role at Frank's except me. While I mostly built new bikes, I also performed service when needed. I also sold bikes, parts and accessories. My manager, Tony, trusted me and leaned on me for my mountain bike expertise when ordering bikes and parts.

When our service manager, Mark, decided to go to Italy for the entire month of June, I was asked to step in. These were big shoes to fill, both literally (Mark was six feet, six inches tall) and figuratively.

Mark worked full time, and I thought I could pull it off and still maintain my outside life. It was only for a month. What I didn't realize, however, was the fact that when I became Mark there was nobody to become me. So I was expected to put in my 40 hours as the service manager Monday through Friday and still work Saturday, which was our all-hands-on-deck day. We would sell a few bikes during the week, but on a good Saturday we might sell a dozen or more, so it was the day everyone worked.

The mistake I made was training like I did when I was working 20 hours a week. I rode whenever I could, often in the heat of the late day instead of my customary mornings. This pushes back your dinner, your bedtime, your ability to rehydrate, everything. Being young, confident and dumb, I didn't realize what a huge difference there was between 20 hours and 50.

I made it through the month, and I was never so happy to see my tall, grumpy service manager walk through the door.

On the Fourth of July, Steve and I drove up to Ashland, Oregon for the race. The next morning we drove from the motel to the venue. At registration we were handed this:

It was as bad as it looks. Well, for me.

We took off and settled in for 16 miles of climbing. I actually did OK, although at some point I lost contact with Steve, who was having a good day. Still, I felt like I was only a couple minutes behind him. I thought perhaps I could catch him on the long descent.

I crested the top, and I was very happy to begin the long downhill. I was passing people and feeling pretty good about myself. I knew I was a pretty good at going down.

Descending is really great. For a while. But this one went on for far too long. At around the halfway point I actually wanted it to be over.

Eventually it did end and at first I was happy to begin climbing again. Until I wasn't.

Revenge hill was about four miles at nearly a 10% grade. It was tough. You can see it took some of the fastest guys around 45 minutes to go 3.8 miles.

I cracked big time. I never ate in races, and for the most part I didn't have to. Most of the races back then were 25 miles or so, falling within the classic two-hour mark. (Your body typically stores two hours worth of glycogen to fuel your muscles.) This race obviously exceeded that, and I should have brought some food.

Anyway, I crawled up the climb in my lowest gear and even resorted to walking a couple times. I crested the top and rolled into the finish glad the ordeal was finally over.

Steve turned in a fine performance to take 7th place Expert with a 3:53 finishing time. I limped in over a half hour later, taking 22nd place. Somehow I beat six guys, and a feel for anyone who had it worse than me.

Again, another learning experience. I would have been better served riding less in June while I worked so much, and focusing more on rest and recovery.

Now that the month was over, I needed to get refocused and prepare for the late summer races. Hopefully I could rebound and get some good results.

Later.