Event
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Mt. Hamilton Classic Road Race | ||||
Date
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05/25/14 | ||||
Group
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35+ 4 | ||||
Bib #
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512 | ||||
Result
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8th of 27 | ||||
Course
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Below
is directly from the race flyer:
This
classic road course climbs 4,500' in 20 miles to the top of Mt.
Hamilton, then continues 43 miles through remote ranch lands to
the finish in Livermore, on Mines Rd. 0.5 miles south of Del
Valle. Total elevation gain exceeds 6,000‘. Neutral water bottle
handout at Isabel Creek, mile 25. Feed zone is at mile 40 at the
fire station at the junction of San Antonio Valley Rd. and Del
Puerto Canyon Rd. Feed vehicles must precede the PRO / Elite 1
group or approach feed zone via Mines Rd.
Route:
L on Fleming Ave, R on Alum Rock Ave, R on Mt. Hamilton Rd.,
straight on San Antonio Valley Rd., straight on Mines Rd.
Here's my own description of the 62 mile course: The 20-mile ascent of Mt. Hamilton essentially begins at mile zero of this course. It's fortunately broken into 3 sections, separated by two brief descents:
The
centerline rule is in effect for every inch of the course.
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Details
of Race
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27
lined up for the start. I chose to race with the Master 35 group
because I was ranked in the top half dozen of those preregistered,
while the the M45 group was a mix of category 3 and category 4
riders. Many (not all) of the cat 3 riders had higher ranking
points than me, as did a few of the cat 4 riders. While I had a
chance to move up in the rankings if I beat any of those riders, I
was most interested in a better shot at a higher placing and the
resulting upgrade points to add to the nine that I've accumulated
to date.
From
the whistle, the pace was brisk, at 14 mph. At mile 3 there was an
attack. After a few meters another rider went. The rest stood pat.
There's a KOM prize in addition to prizes five deep at the finish.
I knew that while the mountain was a formidable obstacle, the
bulk of pain in this race would come while covering the 14 mile
midsection. I also knew I wouldn't win the KOM, but I wanted more
time to study the form of each rider before the group fragmented,
so I accelerated and reeled in the two attackers. This kept us
together only for another mile or so, but it also served to gap
the weakest climbers.
My
primary goal for the ascent was not to win the KOM, nor did I
think I'd match the descending skills of the leaders. But I knew
if I climbed at my pace, I could control my effort and avoid
“blowing up” later, like I knew at least a few of the dozen,
who clung to the wheels of the leader, would do. My other goal was
to summit ahead of as many riders as possible, to “put time in
the bank” that would certainly be “withdrawn” as more
confident riders would certainly overtake me on the tricky
descent. The second part of this goal was to use those riders on
the 14 mile rolling section to come.
In
letting the lead group go, I was able to drop my HR to 175 bpm for
the remainder of the ascent–a level I know I can just sustain
without too high a price in mild conditions. To keep fatigue at
bay, I alternated between climbing in and out of the saddle. This
helps me use different muscle groups and also serves to stretch my
back, neck, shoulders and glutes, hopefully delaying the
inevitable cramping that comes from riding at threshold for
extended periods.
Just
before the crest of the 2nd pitch, at 11.7 miles, I
caught two of my group. We descended together until the 3rd
pitch began. We picked up a third rider in this little valley who
pulled us to the base of the climb. I patted him on the back and
thanked him for the pull. One of the other two riders asked me if
I'd had “a flat back there or something” which I chose to
interpret to mean that I was looking pretty strong, much like
those who had dropped him earlier.
I
was interested in building a train for later, so I tried to ease
up on my pace to keep us together. But it was soon clear that
these three were cooked for the day, so I resumed my pace. I
“played leapfrog” with two women from an earlier group all the
way to Lick Observatory at the summit. At the top an official with
a clipboard noted my number as I passed and I wondered how many of
my group were still ahead–I guessed 10. One of the women
appeared to be a very competent descender, so I let her go first
and gave her plenty of space. Since my crash back in February, I
haven't regained the confidence required to descend rapidly and
skillfully. I was grateful that “traffic was light” because
choosing a good line through each turn was key. About three
quarters of the way down the 4.5 mile descent, one of the three
riders from my group I'd dropped on the last pitch, overtook me.
Finishing the descent, he
introduced himself as Rollie [Rolland Jurgens (CA Technologies
Racing)], and we started trading short pulls. Rolling through the
neutral feed zone (actually just water) I guzzled the rest of my
first bottle, tossed the empty into the pile and grabbed two
ice-cold bottles, loading one into my empty cage and the other
inside my jersey, against the back of my neck. The temperature had
already climbed to about 80° and the cold felt great. I was only
aware of this single opportunity to get water on this 61 mile
course and expected to have to make the 3 bottles I had, last.
The
descent was long enough to make my legs stiff. Then while working
with Rolland, I felt the first familiar twinges of cramps in my
calves and thighs. My first two bottles had electrolyte mix, and I
was eating my calorie and potassium-rich Medjool dates, but the
heat was accelerating the effects of effort. I warned Rolland that
I'd work with him as long as I could, but that sometimes these
cramps can be debilitating. He said “likewise” so I could tell
he was feeling the same way.
We
managed to stick together, making good progress, for about 10
miles as my cramping increased. The two women from the mountain
latched onto the back of our “train” at the feed zone, risking
an infraction if a moto-ref happened to come by. We didn't allow
the two women into the rotation, just in case. At about mile 32 we
overtook another from our race, who was able to latch on and share
in the work. At 35 miles, the lead dozen from the E4 race, which
started 10 minutes after us, flew by. The two women jumped onto
that train but were dropped soon after.
At
40 miles I was fighting six different cramps. Near the top of the
first pitch of the final climb, Rolland had gone off the back. The other rider was still hanging on, but fading. Through the saddle
between the two summits of this final climb, I downed the Espresso
Clif Shot I had in my pocket. Wow! I felt great immediately. The
cramps were still an issue–the spasming Sartorius muscle,
contracting across the top of the Vastus medialus on each leg was
a disturbing sight, much like wire cheese cutters going through
soft cheese. My side-stitch had eased, but my calves were still
cramped. I started shifting into harder gears and sprinting out of
the saddle. This actually helped relieve the discomfort a lot,
while increasing my speed. By now, I had dropped the last remaining "car" of my
little pain-train.
With
11 miles to go I noticed a rider who I thought might be Rolland,
about 500 meters behind. I decided to sit up and wait for him so
we could work together. As the rider approached I began
accelerating to match speed, but just as I did so, a new cramp
seized my left foot. The rider wasn't Rolland, but it didn't
matter because I couldn't latch on. I managed to relax the muscles
and resume my pace. I chased that rider all the way to the finish,
but was always 30 seconds or so behind.
This
is a point to point race and I had a 43 mile ride ahead of me to
get back to my car. Most racers had worked out complex caravans to
avoid this, but I was actually looking forward to my second consecutive Sunday century. I only hoped, as I waited for
preliminary results to be posted, that if any prizes were on
offer, that they'd be small and light enough to fit in my jersey
pockets.
I
didn't have to worry... the results printout showed the order of the
top five, and my name was down in the middle of the “DNP”s
(short for “did not place”). I counted lines down to my name and it
looked like I finished 15th. I was disappointed, mainly
because this showed my ability to estimate the numbers of riders
ahead and behind me on the course, was lacking.
At
any rate, I loaded up on water, orange slices and bananas for the
ride back to San Jose. I texted Jen to let her know I was ok, then
loaded the breadcrumb course I'd imported onto my Garmin 500. I
followed this route at a leisurely pace, riding 10 of the final 16
miles with a nice Fremont local who had ridden the same 102 mile
route that I had, as his Sunday recreational ride.
Back
at the car in San Jose at last, I packed up, changed clothes and rolled on
home. That evening the official results were posted and I was
thrilled to see that I actually placed 8th... the
preliminary result I'd seen at the finish was merely a numerical list of bib numbers after the initial top five. If I'd managed to overtake that one last rider, finishing 7th,
I'd have earned 1 more upgrade point. Still I was relieved to see
that my ability to keep track of riders ahead and behind is fairly
accurate after all.
By the
end of the day I'd ridden 105 miles with 8360 ft. of total
elevation.
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Advice
Links
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A good, challenging
race for all-rounders. If possible, be with the lead group at the
summit. Find good riders to work with in the midsection. The final
40 miles is tough, and it's not really possible to catch a strong
lead group if you're solo. Be safe on the descent. There were a lot of road rashes being treated in the first aid tent.
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