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August 13 - Patterson Pass Road Race, Livermore
Results
Race Reports:
Men's 35+ 1/2/3
Elite 5
Race photos (and much more!):
Steven Hill - steephill.tv
Men's 35+ 1/2/3 report
by Michael Hernandez,
Team Spine
Corral Hollow Chess Match
Oowweee...I love that course. Oh yeah, Mr. Liebold changed the name -
Patterson Pass Road Race...I dunno, doesn't have the same ring to it, eh? Corral
Hollow sounds like a good spaghetti western horror flick. You know, Doc
Holliday has to pull out the six-shooters to drop the pumpkin-headed bad guy
who has flaming eyeballs and a wicked cool cape, barreling down the bridge
on a menacingly emaciated and otherworldy steed. You know, kind of like us
half-starved spandex racers on our spider-light carbon bikies.
Anyway, whatever we call that race we did last weekend, I love it. The
winds were blowing and the testosterone was a flyin'. In the 35+ 1/2/3 race
it was a Spine vs. Safeway brawl. I felt bad for the EMC squad (Oliveri,
Castia, and Thurman) as they were caught out after a ton of hard riding.
A Morgan Stanley rider didn't make the split either, so in the end it was four Safeways
against three Spines battling it out for the win. Oh, and one gawdamn AV/Webcor
rider - Tracy Colwell. Thank the gods this cat does not have any teammates
in the 35's this year, cause he is a ridiculously strong rider. I think
he's trying to rally the Webcor troops again to form up their 35's squad
(back in the day, they were a dominating masters force...let's hope they all
got fat and had babies or - it could get ugly out there for us).
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So, with the final lap beginning - there was all kinds of maneuvering going
on in our little lead pack. Robert Pasco and Reed Maxwell (Safeway) had
been out front most of the day, fighting headwinds and trying to contain
Colin Cooper (Team Spine). Colin, for those of you who don't know, trains about
five zillion hours a week in his basement on a freaking turbo-trainer. He's
some sort of fancy attorney with his brother, the Killen, and they both work
150 hours a week. Colin's training consists of getting up at four am, putting
his trainer on the hardest resistance possible, and then throwing it in the
12t for four hour intervals. He's diseased in the head.
But, if you need a guy to go out and ride against a 25mph headwind, all day
uphill and in the face of all that is holy...well, he's your man. Actually,
he's OUR man...being that he's got that Spine uniform on, and all.
Aside from Pasco and Maxwell, Safeway had Ron "stealth bomber" Reade and Dan
"I vill crush you" Martin. We Spineys had Colin, Dario "Frigo" Frederick,
and myself - the Hernanadork. Webcor's Colwell was doing everything right
and covering all the moves. Safeway had put us on the defensive for most of
the second lap, so it was time for us to turn the tables. Right as we began
the final lap, Dario jettisoned himself off the front solo. The Safeway
boys were in a bit of a quandary - chase Dario down and they have Colin and
me ready to counter. Tough position to be put in, but that's racing - and
they had been doing it to us.
Meanwhile, up front, Dario went straight into win-mode. I've often said
that the difference between the rider who wins and the rider who loses is
that the winning rider knew EXACTLY what needed to be done to create that
win. It's very, very rare that you spontaneously arrive in a position to
win a race. The vast majority of wins are done by folks who have that
moment of clarity when they see the path and what it will take to travel
it...and then, they fully and utterly commit themselves to accomplishing
their goal. There are times when fully committing to a poor race tactic
will yield a better result in a race than not committing to any tactic at
all.
Well, aside from all that dither, Dario stuck his tachometer right below the
red-line as he started the final 40k. To continue the automotive metaphor,
Dario brought his engine up to that power level that generated the most
speed, while not risking blowing out a cylinder or exploding in a fit of
over-heating. Dario's effort was measured, yet full-bore. Moments like
that, you must accept that the pain is eternal. There is nothing else in
your world than the pain and the endless road in front of you. You've got
to frame it in your mind that each moment of pain is sweetness to you. It
is sweet because the more pain you can pile on, the closer you are to
winning in the most glorious of manners...solo against a chasing field.
The Safeway guys and Colwell would put in a huge effort on the backside of
the course, but Colin and I were an ominous presence...waiting to pounce if
they showed a moment's weakness. In the end, Dario would stick it and be
able to throw his arms up for a very satisfying win.
Elite 5 report
by Graeme Macalister
I did this race last year, so as a non-climber, I knew how tough
the course was going to be. But the opportunity of a free ride to the event,
meant I was willing to suffer once again. The only major differences from the
previous edition was a dramatic drop in temperature (20 degrees below the norm)
and with it, an increase in the wind speed, which had a big influence on race tactics.
As we waited through the inevitable late start ,I enjoyed some light-hearted
banter with my fellow Cat 5's, interspersed with flashbacks of getting dropped
right from the start the previous year. My goals for this edition were simple - do
not get dropped straight away and learn to warm up properly!
The headwind was so strong, one of the registration tents was in danger
of going airborne. Ironically it had a calming effect on the group, as
the race began, it reduced our speed to a touring pace.
Last year the pace was fast right from the gun.
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Snaking our way up
the first set of climbs, having done a much better warm up this time, I settled
into my climbing rhythm. I tried to keep my heart rate out of the red zone.
The 30 MPH wind gusts made any attack a suicide
mission so early in the race, and I was relieved to sense the other riders
felt the same way . Our main pre-occupation was trying to hold a straight
line as we counter-balanced the buffeting crosswinds; wheels also nearly touched
each time the gradient kicked up a notch. Suddenly, the top of Patterson Pass
reared its ugly head like something out of Lord of The Rings . A collective
gulp echoed in the peloton as we braced ourselves for the toughest part of the climb.
The final 100 meters of severe gradient caused us to break up; everybody heaving on the bars while out
of their saddle. As we crested the summit, a group of ten had a gap. The crosswind dealt its worst
blow and I began gasping for oxygen as I started the descent. I found myself in the first chase group of five
and immediately got to the front and began to push the pace - hoping to encourage the others
to join in. After a tricky left hand corner and a right at the bottom
of the descent, the road kicked up again and the pack splintered even more.
I found myself with a rider from Delta Velo, another from the San Jose Bicycle Club and another
from Freemont Freewheelers.
At first there was little cooperation and as we crossed the I-580 overpass it was
apparent our chances were slipping away. At this point the Delta Velo rider
introduced himself as "Dominic", asked my name and began to encourage us to take
pulls. Touching close to 50 MPH we could see a small group ahead of us and began
to turn on the gas even more now that we had a blip on the radar. Aided by Dominic's enthusiasm,
we closed the gap and joined up with a group of eight riders. The increased numbers led
to a continued brisk pace and I found myself at the front, since I felt good at this point.
More rolling grassland before the power station's grey mass of steel towers and cables
indicated the start area was close, and with it the fear of another ascension of Patterson Pass
and the relief that we were half-way through the race. Just when it seemed our collective
energy was beginning to fade, we could see the lead group of 10-15 riders
in the near distance; they seemed to be just cruising. This time we didn't have
to work so hard, and we regrouped with the leaders at the beginning of the easier
climbs before the wall of Patterson Pass. The pace was as docile as the first lap ,
but now the fatigue was starting to show; nobody spoke a word. I noticed a rider in a
Navy blue jersey had got a gap of 100 meters
but he didn't seem to be getting any further.
The rest of us crossed the summit together, and a sense of achievement made me wonder
if I could finish with the lead group. Hurtling down the descent, I took the left hand
turn more cautiously; only to see a Freemont Freewheeler go down 25 meters ahead. He was unable
to get his feet loose - the bike was on top of him. I asked if he was okay and after he replied
in the affirmative I continued to chase the leaders. The pack almost came to a standstill
on the right hand corner as brakes squeaked and screamed. After my turn around,
I was immediately greeted with a fierce increase in tempo as we began the next uphill section.
The pack immediately became single file and suddenly I could feel the power fading
in my thighs rapidly. First one, then two, three, four of us were getting dropped
and I could see further damage ahead.
I realised it was,"lights out" time, and as the leaders disappeared over the horizon I went
into time trial mode. All I cared about now was not letting anybody pass me.
This I managed to do, as well as catching and passing a couple of other riders. But
this time Dominic was not here to bring a chase group together. He was somewhere up the road…
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