Pack Fodder Reminiscences from Mid-Bunch: 1993
Quantity-wise, the years 1992 and 1993 were the two biggest during a time when racing dominated my waking hours. I was still racing at the Category 4 level, with the Chevrolet / LA Sheriff Cycling Club, though the Masters 30+ category was also available. There were thirty races in 1992 and twenty-seven in 1993. In addition to those were an extensive mix of competitive training rides - the Rose Bowl on Tuesdays, the Griffith Park ride on Wednesdays, Rose Bowl again on Thursdays, the Bicycle Doctor ride on Saturday, and with occasional appearances at the Montrose Ride, La Grange ride, La Tuna Canyon ride, Heritage (or whatever it was called) and, of course, those long solo Monday rides for distance. Between all that and the job that paid the rent there wasn't much time for anything else.
A lot of rain during the two weeks preceding the 21 February St. Valentine's Day Massacre, the race that kicked off (for me) the 1993 season, may not have been a good thing. While there were a couple quality weekend rain rides during that time, most of the daily journal entries were either blank, or filled by one word - RAIN. Considering the lack of training (of course everyone would have been in the same boat), the race was satisfying in that my fitness level was no worse than that of anyone else. That said, I also did not do anything other than "sit in" the entire time, and finished "in the pack." At a Cat-4 team meeting after the race, we talked teamwork and strategy ahead of the next weekend's first race in the Long Beach series, and I was designated one of the team's leaders for the Pyramid Road Race, two weeks away; I had a reputation as a climber more than anything else - it was time to prove it.
"Here we go again, the first race of the Long Beach crit series, on 28 February, saw me pull out an uninspiring performance." Though my strength was okay, and I was sprinting off the corners well, I "could do absolutely nothing to help the teams' cause." With five laps to go, my back really started to ache, probably due to riding at the back, thus making it necessary to sprint out of the corners - a vicious cycle, and that was all she wrote - another finish in the pack. Sometimes it takes a friend to point out what should be obvious; after the race Tom's critique noted my lack of determination to get in the thick of things.
Though the Rose Bowl ride made its seasonal start during the week, and I "rode aggressively" during the Saturday Bicycle Doctor ride, the Pyramid Road Race, (7 March) in which I competed in the 4/5 event was a huge disappointment. This was my first "target race" of the season, and though familiar with the term, I was probably pretty green when it came to planning to peak for specific targeted events. Not leaving enough time to warm-up beforehand proved to be a big mistake. I "ate right" during the preceding week, but that was not enough to keep my legs from feeling like lead from the get-go, and I began to fall away immediately on the climb away from the start. Surprisingly, I recovered some during the following descent and flats, hoping that I could bridge up to an intermediate group that had formed behind the leaders, but no, even that was too much. I did ultimately catch and pass some stragglers, including some from the cat 3/4 race that started five minutes before mine, but my speed dropped a mile per hour on each successive lap until, finally, at the KOM on the final lap and squinting and seeing nothing but futility ahead of me, I unclipped and headed for the broom wagon. A DNF after forty-two miles and more than two hours of racing.
Being close to the clubs' home base, the Diamond Bar Clean Air Circuit race a week later (14 March), brought out fields full of Sheriff green and yellow. I entered both cat 4 races, the19+ and the 25+, but neither of them went any better than so-so. I did manage a break attempt with a teammate in the first race, but the bunch was having none of that, and it was short-lived. The rest of the race, and all of the second one, I was simply one among many filling the role of pack fodder. Two more "finish in pack" results. At the finish of the second race, I did manage to out-sprint a friend from another team, and eagerly gathered in what bragging rights you can get from such things.
Following Diamond Bar, I got a two week break from racing, and began to look forward to the season's next target race, the three-stage Tour of St. George, in Utah. As it always did, the Tour began on a Saturday morning (2 April) with the Gunlock Road Race, a forty mile loop with a nominal 1700 feet of climbing. 1993 was my second year doing this race, and with my climbing legs beginning to come around, I may have entered it with a little too much confidence. When the race hit the first, and biggest climb, I was dead last, but was able to make my way through half the field before the top. Reaching the plateau, I was disgusted to see two echelons up ahead and pulling away. I pretty much soloed all the way through the little burg of Gunlock and up around the volcano, until getting in with a group of about eight others. We worked well together down through Snow Canyon, but then things fell apart, with some of the little group becoming unwilling or unable to contribute to the effort. A couple riders fell by the wayside, but the rest of us finished as a group. The afternoon's five-mile Hurricane Time Trial went well enough that I could consider it a success. The first half of this time trial was flat before turning into a climb to the top of a mesa; I felt strong the entire distance, sprinting across the line at the finish. Best of all, and though my chain fell off when I shifted gears to start the climb, requiring me to stop and put it back on, I still managed to catch my 30-second and one-minute men. Since the TT was run in reverse order of the road race placings, it gave me at least a 30 second lead over my nearest competition heading into the third stage. The weekend ended with the Red Cliff Mall Criterium run around a technical course with many turns; not my kind of course, I was simple happy finish unscathed and safely ensconced in the pack. Nothing spectacular about finishing 33rd out of 77 starters, but the experience would serve me well in the race over the next few years.
Racing returned to Long Beach next weekend (11 April) for the second race in that series. With 110 starters, I rode the cat 4/5 25+ race, finishing slightly ahead of mid-pack. Riding strong during the weekly training rides, and feeling unusually crit-confident wasn't enough for anything more than that. Never-the-less, with a strong wind blowing I began to see the advantage of rubbing elbows and bumping handlebars in the middle of the bunch as opposed to hanging around on the outside.
There was another two-week gap before the day of the Glendora Mountain Road Race in which I would compete with the cat 4s again. Though not a target race, I was looking forward to this one (as I looked forward to anything that wasn't a crit) but rode away from it disappointed with my performance. Tightness in my legs sent me off the back within the first three miles and, though I warmed into things and rode strongly afterwards, fending off a group of chasers who had fallen even further behind, the highlight of the day was simply finishing right in the middle of the bunch, a few seconds back of one friend and a couple minutes ahead of another.
The San Luis Rey Road Race on the 2nd of May came up next on the calendar and this, as it was every year, was a target of mine. The week before SLR had begun poorly, but had turned around by Saturday so I was optimistic about how it might go on Sunday morning. The race looked much like the week - started poorly when I fell off the back on the first lap, but then turned around when I worked into a chase group. I led the group up the climb on each succeeding lap, as well as along much of the flats leading up to the climb. Unfortunately the group worked together like rusty gearing and we could make up no time on the leaders somewhere up the road. I led across the line on the third lap and then led out the sprint for the finish; by then my legs had enough, and were only willing to give me a 4th in the chase group. None-the-less 44th out of about 111 starters gave me confidence for even better finishes in the future.
The Peter Jensen Memorial Criterium came up on the 16th of May. I think this was the first year of this race and, though a criterium, I liked the course. I did some work at the front at several times, helped with some blocking when a couple teammates escaped up the road with a small break and, in general, had fun. I seemed to be sprinting well (for me) but was poorly positioned on the bell lap and could do no better than finish in the pack.
The final road race of the season came up the next weekend - 23 May - so I certainly wanted to do well. The Estrella Road Race, up by Paso Robles, "was my race." Rarely have I felt so good. There were only thirty starters, and I knew the strength and weaknesses of some of my competitors from the Rose Bowl and from the San Luis Rey race which gave me some confidence. Best of all, as I mentioned, I was just plain feeling good! Contrary to "normal," I spun at a higher cadence early on, before shifting up into the big ring to move up front. That's where I was, leading the group along a rough stretch of road, able to pick my own line and... hsssssssss... oh, that sound, I found the one pothole to end my day. Everything going your way and... that's bike racing. Sometimes it doesn't matter how good you are riding. I could only watch the finish from afar.
The rest of the season followed the usual circuit of local criteriums beginning in Woodland Hills, on 30 May, at the Holy Cross Medical Center Grand Prix. I did both cat 4 races that day, the 19+ and the 25+, neither of which went particularly well. I did attempt to win a "team points prime" in the first race, but could only manage 3rd in that sprint. With a lap and a half to go, a big pile-up ahead of me left me chasing and finishing off the back. I guess I felt good enough to give a second race a try but could do nothing worthwhile and pulled the plug with six and a half laps to go.
On the 5th of June I entered another couple races at the Vivian Kessler Memorial Criterium, a cat 4 and a masters 30+. Though I finished 9th in the cat 4 race, there were only like sixteen starters, so right about on par for where I might usually be expected to finish a crit. The second race was my first masters race, and I underperformed, dropping out of a chase group with about twenty laps to go. Three laps later, the leaders went out of sight, out of mind, and the pace of the chase slowed dramatically. In hindsight it could probably have struggled around for those three laps and hung on after that. Lesson learned, I suppose. Since this was a masters' club event, I had my entry fee reimbursed. Considering the ending I felt kind of guilty accepting the money from Anton, the masters coordinator.
A few weeks passed before the Chuck Pontius Memorial Criterium (27 June) where I did both cat 4 races, finishing 12th out of 25 in the 19+ race, and then 25th out of 30 in the 25+ race. The Carlsbad Stage Race was taking place the same weekend, which kept the fields at Chuck Pontius small. The first race, where I made several appearances at the front with eyes on some primes, wasn't so bad, but the second race, in which my legs were so much dead weight, was.
The fourth race in the Long Beach series came up next, right on the 4th of July. "Not only did I win the titanium saddle prime, but 2nd place as well. Then riding back to the truck I fell over and woke from the dream." The reality was nothing like that, and the race was worse than bad. The only good thing to come from it was that, after considering dropping out a few times, I stuck with it, didn't quit, and finished in the pack.
I returned to Long Beach on July 25th for the Post Office Criterium where I finished dead center of fifty starters in the cat 4 25+ race. Of course the story is rarely that simple, and the combination of rain and tacks thrown across turn #1 made things far more exciting, with lots of flats and lots of crashes. Being behind some of those crashes meant that I did a lot of chasing during the race, including one two-lap effort to get back on, and had nothing left in the tank at the end. Finishing unscathed probably means that I rode too cautiously.
August 1st brought the grandaddy of southern California races onto the calendar - the Manhattan Beach Grand Prix. The race looked very similar to the Post Office Crit, though without the rain or the tacks. There were multiple crashes and I did a lot of chasing and bridging, but lacked the confidence to ride anywhere other than the back of the bunch. Team Ape's John Slover won both the cat 4 race and the cat 3/4 race, and I stuck around to watch Coor's Lights' Dave Mann and Steve Swart take control of the pro race.
Something called the Long Beach Pro/Am Criterium took place the next weekend, 8 August and, from my perspective, it was pretty bad. I mean, when is a DNF anything other than bad. This was a combined cat 4/5 race, along a seven-turn course in the downtown, so pretty squirrelly with multiple crashes. Additionally, gaps would open up that had to be closed. I believe this was my first (and only) race with Aerolite pedals, and was still getting used to them - not only did I fall over at the start after failing to unclip from them, but then couldn't get back into them once the race began, setting me behind from the very start. It just wasn't a particularly fun day.
We were getting close to the end of the season now, but there were some big races still to come, beginning with the La Mirada Grand Prix on August 22nd. As La Mirada always tended to be in August, it was HOT. La Mirada proved to be, for the second consecutive year, my worst race of the year. I struggled and chased most of the first two laps, slipped off the back for good on the third lap, and was pulled by the race official on the 4th lap. That was it - four measly laps. I commiserated afterward with several friends who were unable to manage much better.
The penultimate race of the season was the big one for the Chevrolet / LA Sheriff club, the home race, the City of Commerce Criterium. Though the second half of the season had degenerated, I felt compelled to make an effort for my teammates, and entered both of the cat 4 races on the 29th of August. I rode strongly in both races, though finished in the pack both times. I did gain some satisfaction in the second race when a break, containing no one from the team, gained about fifty yards. I went to the front and led the chase to close the gap; since we placed a rider in the money after that, the effort was worth it.
Finally came the season ending race, on October 3rd, at the Whittier / Los Portales Grand Prix. I sat in most of the race, while focused on the finish, but then popped the cork too early while leading on the final lap and finished behind the money sprint. Upon reflection, I regretted failing to go with Tom when he attacked with eight laps to go, and signaled me to follow on his wheel. I was so focused on the final sprint to the exclusion of all else, that I failed to realize that this earlier move would have been more suited to my particular non-sprinter abilities. Ah well, there was nothing to do now but wait until next year .
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