Playing in the sand

Trying not to crash in the sand pit. Photo © Richard Murphy.

On my way to the beach. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Celo Pacific put on their annual Storm the Beach Cyclocross race last Sunday. As you can see in the photos above, it's really on the beach. Lots of work goes into promoting this race so a big tip of the hat to promoter, Mark Campaigne, and all of the Celo volunteers for making this the best Storm the Beach to date. That's not just rah-rah go-team-go talk. This really was our best race out of four editions. We had the most riders (210), the most spectators, the largest expo area, and the most positive feedback.

The morning was busy for me doing the volunteer thing. No need to go into the details here. I got to the venue early then Dino came a bit later with the girls (one of the benefits of having a home town race). The whole Celo crew was there - so with the extra kid-watchers, Dino and I even had the luxury of taking a course recon lap together (thanks Elaine!). Chief course designer Brent Prenzlow made a couple tweaks to the course but it was fairly similar to last year - though much faster. The fire roads were smoother, the tide was out so the beach section was rideable (and fast), and the sand pit was moved inland and reconfigured making it possible to transverse without running. I have to chime in here with my most important contribution to the race this year: the day after last year's race I pulled up the tide charts and identified possible dates for 2009 when we'd be guaranteed of running under low tide conditions (high tide last year made the beach section completely miserable).

The beauty of Storm the Beach course is that it has a sort of yin-yang balance. It starts with fast fire roads on the first half of the course followed by a series of relatively slow sections: a deep sand run, an energy sapping beach section, another deep sand run, a steep hill, the sand pit where you're kicking up rooster tails like a Mississippi tractor pull, another steep climb, then a short U-turn in the deep sand before heading back onto the fire roads. Yin and yang, darkness and light, pain and more pain.

Once Dino started her race, I hopped on the trainer putatively to watch O & S - but they were quite happy playing with all of the other Camp Celo kids and I was left (mostly) undisturbed. Little did I know that'd I'd have a ringside seat for the unfortunate incident that happened next: Leigh Adams, who was racing the Women 3/4 field, endo'd coming off of the hill into the sand pit. I did essentially the same crash last year but got up and kept racing. I guess I was lucky. Leigh wasn't so lucky and ended up getting taken to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder. As if that weren't bad enough, her boyfriend, Alex Ter-Vrugt, was crashed by another rider while leading the beginners clinic and bumped his elbow. While at the hospital with Leigh, he had it x-rayed and found out that it was broken. Two busted limbs in the same household is not a good thing. SoCalCowbells sends our best wishes to Alex and Leigh for a speedy recovery.

Time for my race...

Call up. Go to the line. No, don't want to be on the left...move to the middle. Official's spiel: "You will be racing on a course of varying terrain including dirt, sand..." Tune him out (sorry, Ramon). 30 seconds. 15 seconds. Whistle. Instinct and adrenaline say go for the hole shot. Cerebral cortex says sit in the draft and conserve. Cerebral cortex wins. Don't fight for position. Slip back to ~15th but enjoy being out of the wind. Keep below my LT. Make it to the beach. Watch a guy fall face first into the sand while running down hill with his bike on his shoulder. No time for schadenfreude - it's created a gap. Try to get across. Pull 5 guys behind me. Run up off the beach and ride up the hill. Thankful for the gap in front of me: no squirrely traffic as I hang on for dear life while fishtailing at high speed down the hill and into the sand pit. Make it through with only a quick dab in the apex of the turn. Up the hill, down the hill, U-turn in the sand then back onto the fire roads. Catch a couple of riders in front of me. Sit in shamelessly. Drop the riders when we hit the beach. Pass a couple more in the sand pit. Back to the fire roads as I begin lap three. Catch a rider. Work together. Get passed by Matt Breyer as he's chasing back after a flat. "Grab a wheel!" Hang on for dear life as we fly across the beach. Pass the guy who was leading my race and is now nursing a flat. Can't hang with Matt when we hit the sand so let him go. Up the finish hill: 2 to go. Catch Dave from PAA on the fire roads. Sit in. He pulls off when we hit the headwind just before the beach. I attack. He pulls me back. I keep on the gas down the beach and through the sand. Up the finish hill. Bell rings. One to go. My best guess at position puts us in 5th and 6th place. I need to beat Dave to get on the (extended) podium. I ask, "Work together?" Reply: "Yep." I add, "Until the beach - then all bets are off." We work together then, on cue, I attack on the beach. I have a gap. Push. I'm caught by a PAA rider...not Dave. It's the former leader (the one who flatted) and he's flying. Crap. Gotta go or I'll lose the position. Off the beach and into the deep sand before the barrier. He swings wide then screws up his dismount and goes down. Whew, some breathing room. Not enough - he catches me in the sand pit. Surprise: he dismounts near the apex of the turn making me dab. Crap. His running is faster than my riding (double crap!) but I gun it and catch him before the base of the finish hill. Come on, legs, sprint! Legs aren't listening. He rides away from me. Oh well, 6th isn't so bad - and he earned it, coming back from a flat. I see Dave (from PAA), "Good racing." "You too." "Where'd we end up?" I ask. "You were 4th and I was 6th" he says.

Wow. Fourth. I'm happy with that. And it was good enough to get the leader's jersey back too.

The real highlight of the day was watching the Elite Men race. Celo teammate Brent Prenzlow took his 100th elite cyclocross victory. I find it kind of hard to wrap my head around that figure. I've been racing 'cross since 1990 and I don't think I've even entered 100 races. Well maybe - but just barely. But 100 wins in the Elite class....wow. Good job Brent! The most remarkable thing about the race, however, was the vibe amongst the spectators. When everybody present realizes that they're watching a little bit of sporting history, something special happens that is difficult to put into words. The closest I can come to describing it is a sort of gestalt consciousness that ripples through the crowd in counterpoint to the action. I've only been to a few 'cross races where this has happened - Nationals at the Presidio in 1999 comes to mind. This was one of those times - and it was pretty cool.

Brent Prenzlow on his way to his 100th Elite cyclocross win.

The chase group in the Elite Men's field gets squidgy in the deep sand.

Next up: Bakersfield....actually I'm posting this after the Bakersfield races. I'll post a report soon. In the meantime, let's just say the weekend didn't go as well as I'd hoped.

Los Luchadores Borrachos

Los Luchadores Borrachos: El Chongo Peludo y El Chimichanga Fantastico.

After much training and preparation, we were ready. Los Luchadores Borrachos would make their world premier at El Carrera de Bicicletas Spooky Cross. Training provided us with great velocidad. We were there to make our competitors cry like seesy-gurls. We were there to destroy.

Lo que los músculos grandes (foto de Dino)

Los Luchadores Borrachos had many fans in attendance and posters were hung proclaiming nuestra grandeza.

Hemos tenido muchos admiradores (foto de Dino)

We were called to the start line and given a position of honor on the front row. It was time. Knowing that the battle would be fierce, El Chimichanga Magnifico disrobed - he anticipated mucho calor.

El Chimichango Fantastico prepara para la batalla

The race started and El Chongo Peludo rode many laps, distracting the crowd with his dazzling cape, and even doing battle with his arch-rival, El Puma Grande.

El Chongo Peludo pedales muy rápido!

Meanwhile, El Chimichanga Magnifico rained down destruction on muchas calabazas.

El Chimichanga Fantastico: 1, Calabazas: 0

The battle was fierce and large piece of pumpkin became lodged in Magnifico's chonies.

¡Ay, mi culo!

After many laps, El Chongo Peludo joined El Chimichanga Magnifico to finish off the petulant squash.

Calabazas destruir a Los Luchadores Borrachos.

The pumpkins were destroyed as the spectators cheered - for they knew the were now safe - the pumpkins could hurt them no more. Los Luchadores Borrachos had triumphed. And it was bueno.

Muchas gracias a Ben Love por los fotos extraordinarios.

Spooked Out

Churning through the sand pit. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Duking it out with Miguel. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Goodbye yellow leaders jersey. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Spooky Cross is probably the best bike race in Southern California. Period. Not just for cyclocross - THE BEST RACE. Spectator or participant, it is the most fun you can have that includes a bicycle speed contest. Let's see...where to start?

Saturday morning arrived and even though we have our pre-race routine down to a science, the evening start times threw a spanner in the works. When two preschoolers are in the equation, timing is everything. Luckily, we made it to the venue without too much added stress. Camp Celo was already set up with the exception of our pop-up tent (which we quickly popped-up, of course). We had a great location just after the spooky sand pit along with the Ortegas, the Campaignes, the Weirs, the Jones-Lewinneks, and the Fahies.

The schedule was a bit different than usual with the kids' (costume) race running prior to our races. Of course we wouldn't miss cheering - and photographing - O the butterfly fairy and S the Meerkat through their race. I think the below photo of O chasing down a rampaging hulk is one of my favorites from the series so far this year:

Who needs a bike when you're the Hulk? Photo by Joe Lawwill.

I managed to sneak in a recon lap between races and was impressed with what I saw. Hidden Valley is easily one of the best cyclocross venues in SoCal (or anywhere for that matter). The course had a little bit of everything: off-camber sections, pseudo-stairs, a sand pit, a run/ride hill, a fast pavement section, some long power straights, and a good measure of tight turns (but not too many). My only complaint is that the barriers were set up just after a turn - something several course promoters have done lately. I don't like it because it de-emphasizes the importance of having smooth barrier technique since you have to slow down so much to make the approach turn. Nevertheless, two thumbs way up for the course.

The race was a bit of a blur. The whistle blew and I was second into the first turn. I then started slipping back. And back. And back. And back some more. Uh oh...when is this going to stop? I felt good but the legs just weren't there. Three laps in, I was dangling ~10 seconds just behind a group of five riders and just couldn't make contact. Instead, I was joined from behind by two riders including Miguel from PAA. Knowing that we had three laps left, I didn't try too hard to keep Miguel behind me. I quickly learned that was a mistake: he punched it hard out of every turn leaving me to close the gap. I managed to keep up with him but it was definitely hurting. The third rider with us stayed behind us for the most part but did throw down a couple of attacks. The first was pulled back easily by Miguel and I. The second, however, with just over a lap to go was a bit stronger. We weren't closing it down and, in fact, Miguel had managed to gap me as well. Then something happened that changed the game. I was passed by Brian Lopes (ex-World Champion MTBer) who was leading the Masters 35+ 1/2/3's. Oh crap - that means that we're finishing at the end of this lap [for those non-cyclists reading this, all riders finish on the same lap as the leader - even if they are in different fields of the same race]. I pushed as hard as I could and caught Miguel just before the finish straight. We hit the pavement with 50 meters to go and I sprinted for all I was worth. A bike throw got me in front of Miguel by an inch or two netting me 17th (out of 48) for the day. I felt pretty good, I raced hard, but sometimes the results just don't come. To top it off, I lost the series leader's jersey to Josh K. We're now tied on points but his 10th place finish (compared to my 17th) tilts the tie-breaker his way and gives him the lead. He definitely earned it...and now I have a little extra motivation for Storm the Beach next weekend.

I'm still hopeful for my goal at nationals of finishing on the lead lap. Lopes barely lapped me even though he started ~2 minutes in front of our field. Plus, I had a slightly off day. It certainly won't be easy, however. Especially since, according to the preliminary start-ups recently published, it looks like even though I was the second Cat 3 to register, I'm in the 13th row. Maybe I can pull a Prenzlow and catch onto the lead group by the end of the first lap. Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?

Now some of you may be wondering about feature event of Spooky Cross: the costume race Well, for that you can read El Chongo Peuldo's race report elsewhere on this blog.

"Au revoir, gopher!"

We can all thank our little furry friends, Thomomys (otherwise known as the North American pocket gopher), for our trips to the chiropractor following El Dorado! I am pretty certain most people will agree that this course was one of the most bone jarring in recent memory. It certainly gives Hanson Dam a run for its money in terms of bumpiness. Bumps aside, the race itself was mediocre for me.

The one thing Dave and I really focused on during the off season were my starts or lack thereof. I can say with confidence that I have pretty much nailed them down and usually can get off the line pretty close to first. My ability to maintain that position---well, that's an entirely different story, one that frustrates me to no end! So, here we go.

The massive women's field lined up at the start looking down a long paved straight. I squeezed my way to the front with everyone else since there were for some reason, no call-ups. The start was messy again, elbows, f-bombs, and flies were dropping furiously as we all raced down the straight dodging the massive bumps caused by tree roots uplifting the pavement. We flew into the sweeping first turn before launching into a blanket of pine duff and into the first set of barriers. I was not "on" today. I got myself stuck in traffic and couldn't really break out. Oh well. It's racing and the best thing to do is keep racing. I managed to stay near the front group for awhile but was quickly dropped and was chasing AGAIN! I am not sure what's going on but once I lose contact from the lead group, I have a really tough time making up time. It's almost as if my legs turn off and I am spinning in the mud going nowhere. My racing buddy, Carlyn, and I have been asking ourselves frequently this season, "how come we start at the front but always end up in the back?" That being said, Carlyn and I traded places throughout the race and were chastised more than once by her husband for "chit-chatting" and "having a tea-party!" Admittedly, we could talk so we probably weren't working hard enough. As for the tea party, I didn't see any tea and crumpets (did you, Carlyn?). So, as fast as the race began, it ended. I have no excuses for my poor performance except to say, "it just wasn't my day!" Thankfully, Carlyn and I push each other and often encourage each other just at the right time. Better yet, even though we race in the same field, we aren't technically racing against each other for points since we're in different categories--so it's a rivalry based in friendly competition and an effort to get better. Carlyn went on to do another race that day; I went on to enjoy the crazy chaos of Camp Celo.

As we drove home, Dave and I dissected my race and tried to figure out what I need to do to make the leap from mediocre performances to "sizzling" performances. It sounds like the recipe involves more intervals and intensity...

An off day

Warming up in Camp Celo. Lots o' grommets with pink, sparkly hair.

It's not unexpected to have an off day every once in awhile. Hopefully after SCPS #6 in Long Beach, mine is now out of the way for the season. Being human, I'm good at making excuses for poor performance:

1. Flu shot mid-week took it out of me.
2. Too many intervals in the previous week.
3. Bad choice of tire pressure.
4. I don't do well on bumpy courses.
5. Allergic to pink hair spray.

Regardless of the above, neither my head nor my legs were behind my effort on Sunday.

The lead-up to the race was pretty much the usual so no need to go into detail here. I should note, however, that O and S had a great time with the other Camp Celo kids doing body paint and spray-on hair coloring.

Cut to the race...

Staging was a mess - though I still managed a front row spot. They called us up before the the Masters 1/2/3 started. I was caught off guard and lined up on the bumpier side (it didn't make a difference but it was still a mistake). The starting stretch had tree root induced heaves that would make any parking lot speed bump envious. The whistle blew and the 41 rider field sprint to the first turn began. I settled for ~5th position as we transitioned onto the grass. Just after the first hairpin, I hit a tree root and bottomed out. Hmmm...that didn't seem right. A couple more turns, over the barriers, down a sidewalk, then into a couple of hard turns. The rear tire seemed really loose. To try and help soak up some of the bumps on what is might be the bumpiest course in SoCal (yes, even bumpier than Hansen Dam) I was running very low tire pressure - probably down around 30 psi. It seemed just right on the warm up lap. However, when railing a turn at race pace, there's a bit more centripetal force. Challenge tire sidewalls are nice and supple which makes for great grip on turns and cambered sections...that is until the pressure is too low then the sidewalls squidge out in the middle of the turn, usually breaking traction. That was happening a lot. In fact, I had to clip out several times in order to save myself from sliding out. As I fell further and further back in the field I decided to go for a bike change onto my single speed in the pit. Coming by the pit, I yelled at Dan and Maria who were watching the race from lounge chairs nearby. "Bike change!!! White Redline!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that they had heard and were scrambling across to the pits. Half a lap later, I came through and they were waiting. I was so focused on the change (I've only done a real bike change once before in a race) I forgot to tell them what was going on. Thankfully, Dan yelled as I was racing away, "What do you want us to do to it?" I replied, "More pressure both tires!" Once on the singlespeed, the higher tire pressure had me bouncing around more, but the turns no longer felt like they were covered in Crisco. Because I'd been holding back a bit, I managed to catch a rider or two on the next half lap. Coming back through the pits, Dan and Maria were there again with the tires on my Fort pumped up to a much more reasonable pressure. (Thanks, guys - I definitely owe you for your help!) So now I have a bike that's functioning properly, relatively fresh legs, and my head is in the game for the first time all day. Alas, it was a bit too late. I caught a couple more people and ended up in 17th place. I had to console myself with the thought that I would have been excited with that finish last year.

You can see Ken Scott's POV video of the race here. I like how it really captures the bumpiness of the course. I have some air time starting at ~6:30 until Ken gets wrapped up in the course tape - then again starting at ~11:10. At ~12:10 you can see my bike change onto the Redline. I want to give a big shout out to Ken for making these videos. They are a blast to watch. They also help me remember various parts of the course and race - the lactic acid haze is definitely not memory enhancing - thus I need all the help I can get. They're also great for sharing with friends and family - especially those who do not quite understand cyclocross.

Shaking out the cobwebs

The kind of weekend it was: on/off. Photo courtesy of Mark Campaigne.

I now have two weeks of racing to catch up on. Bonelli Park (revisted) on Oct. 10-11 was memorable and not-so-memorable. Saturday's race actually went pretty well for me. I had a great start, managed to outdistance a crash behind me, and did well to nearly catch back on to the lead group. With one lap to go, I crashed myself in a tricky little turn near the last hill climb. "Swoosh!" There went my wheel and suddenly I am laying on the ground like turtle on it's back still attached to my bike. Such is life. My friends all tell me, "Dinorah, if you crash going hard then you were going hard! It's racing." And, so it was. I finished in 4th and was actually pretty happy with that result.

The weekend was our first time this season doing back-to-back race days. To minimize traveling, we decided to spend the night in San Dimas. This was a good decision and a bad decision. It was good because we didn't have to wake up at dawn on Sunday and we could leisurely make our way to the venue. It was bad because S decided that she didn't want to go to sleep Saturday night. At one point, Dave even took her for a drive in hopes that she would fall asleep. When he left with her, I half expected a call from him telling me that he was driving home to San Diego and would pick O & I up in the morning. Fortunately, she did finally fall asleep though not in the car.

The race itself was...well... another race. I liked the course for the most part. It was challenging and had enough variety to make things interesting. As for my performance, it wasn't what I had hoped for. I had an okay start. Unfortunately, the call-ups were kind of messy and therefore the start was messy. We all squeezed up to the front and subsequently, there was some pushing and shoving going on. As we funneled into the dirt, a lot of squealing brakes could be heard and I nearly rear-ended Carol who nearly rear-ended Robin. After the near-carnage-experience, Carol and Robin made the break leaving me chasing for the rest of the race. Since I felt like I didn't work too hard, I decided to try my hand at the Women 1/2/3 race...

To summarize my experience in the Women 1/2/3's: they were fast, I was slow! But, I still had fun It was kind of a last minute peer pressure decision to do it. There were only 6 of us lined up at the start and the prizes went 5 deep. Someone was going to be the odd duck out. I was pretty sure it was going to be me. It was. But, I enjoyed the experience and realize how much I have to do to make the leap to the next level.

So, there you go. Two more races down, a lot to go until Nationals. Woohoo!

Video from SCPS #6 - Long Beach

The Women 35+ and Women 3/4 attack the barrier on the first lap.

Here's a video from last weekend's race at El Dorado in Long Beach. You can see it in a bit larger (but not distorted) format on our Flickr stream here.