Alive and Kicking

Today is my birthday, and these little milestones often provide the catalyst to reflect. I have reached 36 years old, and sometimes I wonder how on earth I have made it this far.

I narrowly escaped with my life on Saturday. After five days, I'm just now getting to where I want to talk about it.

I was descending the hill on Deer Valley Road—a narrow, quiet country road I use often—doing about 35-40 miles an hour. I was in the middle of the traffic lane, as the rough surface dictates you need options right and left because of the broken pavement, patches and potholes. There was nobody anywhere behind me, so I felt safe and comfortable. It was a warm, sunny morning, and I think I was probably smiling a little as I flew down the hill.

I came around to the little S-bend turn at the creek crossing and a car was coming right at me with all four tires in my lane. All I can remember is it was a maroon sedan with a chrome bumper. They were doing about 70, tires squealing, and probably misjudged the turn. Unfortunately we met right at the little bridge, which narrows so two cars can't easily pass. The guard rail prevented me from bailing into the ditch. I hit the brakes hard, locked up the rear end a little, and angled to the right, squeezing as close as I could to the railing.

The driver saw me at the very last instant and cranked the wheel. All I remember seeing was the oncoming bumper. It went right past my left shin. So close. I barely cleared the guard rail and went into the ditch, crashing into some scrub oak and bushes. Thankfully, it was a fairly soft landing. I jumped up and shook my fist and screamed a little, but he/she/they were long gone and out of my sight line.

No license number, make of car, anything. It happened too fast.

I was really angry, and that anger carried me all the way home. It wasn't until I got home, went upstairs and hopped in the shower that the seriousness of the situation really hit me. I was a bit shook up. It was a very close call. Very close.

The collision could have killed me simply because of the combined speeds. At the very least I would have lost a leg or two. I have to think my handling skills saved my ass. It really was a nice maneuver, if I may say so.

Anyway, I only received a small scratch on my forearm and skinned my knee. The sidewall on my rear tire is cut, and there's a little flat spot from skidding. The rear wheel (brand fucking new!) needed a true job. That's about it for damage.

The incident prompted me to order my Santa Cruz Blur. I have been going back and forth for months trying to decide if it's the right bike for me. Now I figure it's time to get back on the trails and do more dirt riding. The roads get crazier every day.

I realize that the incident could have happened anywhere, even my old favorite roads in Auburn, but I am now even less enthused with where I am now living. Narrow roads, rednecks, speeding SUVs and cyclists just don't mix. I can't quite put my finger on it just yet, but the people here in Shingle Springs are different. Every ride I feel like a foreigner. They do not want me here.

I drove down to Folsom and rode on the bike trail a couple times before I finally got the nerve to go out for a local road ride again. Once I got out there I didn't really trip out on it too much; it was fine. I rode the Jergens/Luneman roads. The ride was nice and hard, and that kept me from thinking about it too much. I must admit I crept down those steep hills, though. I was no Paolo "Il Falco" Savoldeli, that's for sure.

Anyway, that's the story. I didn't really let on how close it was to my mom or Jennifer, although Jenn definitely knew something was wrong when I got home. Man, I already miss that boring WeeFun bike trail. 

Like a very wise man with big, big hair from the legendary band Cinderella said: "Don't know what you got, 'til it's gone . . ."

Later.

Errand Boy

Although I was just there five days ago, I made a quick run up to Incline Village to conduct some business for my dad. He rents out the condo occasionally while he lives in Germany, so I was getting it ready for a new renter.

While I was there I took the opportunity to ride. I wanted to do a longer route since it would probably be my last opportunity to ride in Tahoe for a while.

I started with the climb up Tunnel Creek and rode the Flume Trail "backwards" from normal, meaning south.

The Flume isn't that exciting from a riding standpoint. It's flat and mostly sandy.

No, it's all about the views.

After the Flume you end up at Marlette Lake.

Then you begin the grind up Marlette Lake Road.

At one point you reach a place where you are about 1500 feet above Marlette Lake, which in turn is about 1500 feet above Lake Tahoe. The illusion makes it look like one lake.

The road eventually crosses the Rim Trail, and I turned west and continued climbing towards Marlette Peak on the incredible singletrack trail.

Towards the top you climb above treeline, opening up more incredible views.

From this point it's a whole lot of downhilling back to the condo. The Rim is twisting singletrack through boulder fields with switchbacks and dropoffs. It's incredibly fun, but tiring, both mentally and physically. Then it's a high-speed drop down Tunnel Creek.

I finished up with 31 miles and I felt good about my productive day. Sometimes running errands is pretty fun.

Later.

Lake of Fire

We headed up to my dad's condo for the Fourth of July weekend. On the way there we stopped at Emerald Bay to goof off.

The next morning I did a nice 22-mile ride. I rode up Highway 431 and took the Rim Trail south.

Washoe Lake:

Eventually you hit Tunnel Creek and start heading back down.

Selfie stop:

In the late afternoon we headed to the lake to claim our spot for the fireworks. Rock on!

Eventually it started getting dark. Luckily kids never seemed to get bored of the beach.

Almost there:

Boom.

The next day I did the Flume ride. It was fine.

Earlier this morning we went on a hike up at Tahoe Meadows.

We hunted for trout in the creeks and found a few.

After that we cleaned up and headed home. It was a nice visit and a fun Fourth, and we escaped the heat for a few days.

Later.

The High Road

I went up to Tahoe for Memorial Day Weekend to do a little riding and relaxing. On the drive up Friday after work I was surprised how much snow was left in late May.

After overnight lows in the 30s, I dragged my feet a bit before I went for a ride Saturday. I geared up and headed out to do the Flume ride. Unfortunately I only made it a few miles up Tunnel Creek before encountering a lot of snow. I went back to the condo frustrated with only 10 miles to show for it.

A burrito at T's made me feel a little better.

The next day I resigned myself to the fact I would be riding on the road. I decided to ride up to the summit on 431.

There was a little cloud cover overnight so it was a little warmer, but not much. I dressed as best I could for the classic cyclist conundrum of a long climb in the cold followed by a freezing descent back down. 

I started climbing through Incline Village and warmed up quickly. By the time I reached Highway 431, I was already sweating.

Towards the top I reached the turnoff for the Rim Trail. It's out there somewhere. 

Happy to be near the summit.

Made it.

The 2600 foot descent back down to the condo was pretty miserable. It's over 10 miles of 40-mile-per-hour wind chill, but it's over fairly quickly. Still, it took a long time in the shower before I could feel my fingers and toes again.

This morning I decided that I didn't want to ride on the road again, so I headed back home early to avoid the post-weekend traffic.

Not the greatest Tahoe trip ever, but a little clean mountain air never hurts. Back to the grind tomorrow.

Later.

Race Report: 2002 Sacramento Cyclocross #7

Well, the final race of the Sacramento Cyclocross Series is in the books. I went into the race with the slimmest of one-point leads over Alex. With double points being awarded for the final, it made the assignment pretty damn simple: Win the race.

We duked it out for the entire race and left the rest of the field in the dust, putting almost a minute into Skyler in third place. I must say, we were flying. I attacked a number of times and so did he, but nothing stuck. We knew we were racing for the series overall, so we were riding our guts out.

On the last lap I turned onto the last section of asphalt, about 100 meters slightly uphill, and attacked from the front. I only gave it about 90% effort, and at the top he was still there. I knew then I made a huge tactical mistake. We were going 18 miles per hour up the hill, so he was definitely benefiting by being on my wheel while I maxed my heart rate. All he had to do was sit on my wheel through the next section of singletrack, which he did, and attack me on the fire road, which he did. All that was left after that was rough singletrack to the wider finishing straight. I tried to get under him by squaring off the last corner, but he knew I was going to try it and shut me down to the inside. We had a short 30 meter sprint for the line, and I just couldn't get all the way around him. He got me by a wheel. So close.

Second in the race, second in the series (37 points to 36). Being the bride's maid is a central theme in the story of my racing life. The only guy I had to beat stopped our hero once again. No trophy, no flowers, no glory.

Still, I am not too disappointed because I rode pretty much full blast and made no (physical) mistakes. I hit all the barriers really well, and at a higher speed than ever before. I may have even looked graceful doing so. Anyway, Alex beat me fair and square and I'm cool with it.

John gave us a shout-out in the final results, which was nice. Yes, I am definitely upgrading for next season. My transformation from clueless and clumsy newbie to veteran cyclocross racer is now complete.

Today will go down in my memories as a special day. One of my best racing days for sure. It was awesome to be part of two guys rising to the occasion and riding nearly perfect races. At almost every barrier we were side-by-side, really going for it, trying to gain just a few feet of advantage. I pushed myself to a new place, deep into the blackness of the pain cave. I've never given that kind of effort in a race before. But it was worth it. So very cool. I am bummed that the cyclocross season is winding down already. It went too fast. Damn, that was a fun series.

Later.

Race Report: 2002 Sacramento Cyclocross #6

Race number six occurred at Negro Bar on a course much less suited to my strengths. The grass, sand pit and the stairs were pretty tough for me. I am no runner. There is little doubt if I had been born in the ice age I would have been an easy meal for a saber-toothed cat.

The one saving grace was the long asphalt stretch towards the end of each lap. This is where most people were trying to recover, but I used it to gain time. Each lap I put it in the big ring and hammered my guts out, and each time I passed the guys who ran past me during the running sections.

I ended up third, sandwiched between Alex in second and Skyler in fourth. I am disappointed with the result from a points standpoint, but happy that I gritted it out on a course with features that I really struggled with.

Alex is now one point behind me in the standings. Basically I have to beat him next week in the final race. There are different points scenarios because the title is based on the best four finishes, but in no situation do I win the series if he should beat me by just one place. Even if we tie for the points, he would win because the last race is the tie breaker. Oh, the pressure. I will have to put a lot of emphasis on practicing dismounts this week because that is where he always gets me.

Later.

Race Report: 2002 Sacramento Cyclocross #5

I skipped race number four, which was held up in Grass Valley. I just didn't want to drive that far. Since only four of the seven races count towards the final points, I figured I could take the weekend off and save some gas money. Unfortunately, I learned from my Rio Strada teammates that the Grass Valley course was very hilly and technical. According to Curtis: "You would have killed it up there, dude!"

Oh well.

Race five was in Vacaville at Peña Adobe Regional Park. This was the district championships, which meant very little for us lowly C racers. There is no championship for us, but districts did bring out more racers for a bigger and stronger field to compete against.

I felt good about the race because I won a mountain bike race here back in the day. I hoped for a similar result in the hilly terrain.

The day was cold, damp and foggy. I don't usually do well in the cold, so I overdressed and warmed up longer than normal.

At the gun a guy named Mark Schlicting (far right) took off and we never saw him again. This race would be a battle for second place.

The course was up and down, mostly dirt, with a few dismounts, including a sadistic set of barriers running up a very steep hill.

I made it up the steepest hill every lap, but it hurt. A lot of people had to walk this one.

Eventually it ended up being a group of three: Me, Alex and Skyler.

Alex, AKA Yelling Guy, was a wheel sucker. It was only my fourth time racing with him, and I had never seen the back of his helmet. For over two full laps he was there. A couple times I flicked my elbow for him to come around and do some work, but he refused. It was clear I was his focus.

After checking my computer for elapsed time, I knew we would probably get the bell lap next time through the start-finish. There was a place coming up where we would exit the dirt and hit a sharp downhill turn on pavement. I would attempt a move there.

Because of the dampness, our tires were covered with dirt and sand, making the asphalt corner very slippery. I accelerated down the hill as long as I could and braked very late. I leaned into the turn as much as I dared and felt my tires breaking loose, but I let them continue in a somewhat controlled slide as I carved the turn.

As I exited I peeked back to see if I had created a gap, and I had. Alex had just entered the turn and was likely trying to match my speed. His tires broke loose and he went sliding across the road on his ass. Skyler also went down and followed Alex into the ditch.

Like any seasoned racer, I saw the chaos and accelerated. I went through the start-finish and indeed heard the bell ringing. Thankfully. Only one more time up that awful wall of a hill.

I gave it about 90% for the last lap, hoping to keep a little energy in reserve, and kept looking back to make sure Alex didn't catch me. Towards the end another guy did start catching up, and I gave it a little more gas to hold him off. I finished in second place, only four seconds in front of him.

It was cool to see my name on the VeloNews web site even if they did screw up my team name:

With nine points for finishing second, I maintained my lead in the series. Alex and Skyler got up off the deck, finishing fourth and fifth.

Later.