Sea Otter Onslaught (part one)

My first race at Sea Otter 2011. I am tucked in nicely behind the "NAVAL WALL".

The Sea Otter classic has become a massive event over the years. Just the sheer number of vendors alone was mind-boggling. It’s like Disneyland for cyclists, and you can’t take it all in in one day. This year I didn’t have nearly as much time to check things out as I would have liked. Between two races and taking my two oldest sons, my free time was pretty limited.  Luckily, I had my dad there to watch the boys while I raced.

It was a “boy’s weekend” for the GroveTribe with my father, my two oldest sons and I going. I had hoped that the boys would see the cycling community and start getting excited about it. I wanted to help them develop an interest in cycling and I wanted them to have a chance to see me race. Up to this point, all my attempts to interest them in cycling have not been able to overcome their video gaming preference.

We arrived at Sea Otter and I went straight to registration. The boys initially seem excited that we were there with them asking me about when I would race and they thought the racing numbers were cool. They were interested in the gift shop and all of the Otter gear but their interest soon cooled to the event and the rest of the time they would only play in the bounce house when they weren’t begging to go back to play their video games.

They didn’t have much interest in seeing all that Sea Otter had to offer and I have to admit that I was frustrated that I wasn’t able to share the event with them as I had hoped. They weren’t interested in looking around and so I wasn’t able to visit nearly as many of the vendors booths as I had hoped. The “boy’s weekend” turned out to be “Nintendo DS weekend” but I was still happy to have my dad there and be able to share it with him. Next year will be my wife’s turn to go, I want to take someone with me who would really enjoy the event and be happy to share it with me.




Vendors. Vendors. Vendors everywhere.



My race was late afternoon so I spent the day walking around and by the time the race came around I was tired from walking. Note to self: rest before race not run after young boys and try to ogle the massiveness of Sea Otter. Second note to self: cross-train leading up to Sea Otter so all the walking doesn’t kick my over-specialized butt.

A couple of hours before the race I began the long trek back to the car to gear up, get my numbers pinned on, put on my racing chip and trudge back to the starting line. I left my dad and the boys at the bounce house and prepared myself for my first Sea Otter Race.

Racing at Sea Otter isn’t like all the other races I have done up to this point. Instead of taking on the “local guys” I was going against racers from all over, and there was a LOT OF THEM. These races were big with full fields in all the races. I was beginning to second guess entering myself into the Elite category race instead of the 35+. I was going up against more competition, better competition, younger competition. I found out later that I was the oldest guy in the race.

So there I was in a field of about 50 to 60 racers and I had no teammates entered in this race. As I look around I see a wall of the Naval Postgraduate Academy racers at the head of the pack. There I was, an “Army of One” hoping to take them on without any support. Things were looking grim but I wasn’t about to lie down and die because the odds were stacked against me.  I planned to stay towards the front, looking for breaks and getting on one if I can. If I wanted a chance at a top-ten finish I had to be in the lead group for the final climb.

The weather was warm and windy for the 3:30pm start time.  It was to be a neutral start down a canyon road to a looped course and then we would climb back up the hill that served as a neutral start.

The wall of the Naval Post Grad team numbered at least 9 riders (that is how many were in front of me at the start, there might have been more scattered around).  I lined up directly behind then so that I could spy on them and use them as a wind break as the race got started (is it legal for me to do that to our military?).

As the race got off to a neutral start, the peloton was really sketchy, especially on the descent down Barloy Canyon Rd.  My spider senses were tingling and I was looking for a safe spot to descend when someone in front and to my right crashed.  His crash went left (towards the riders in front of me) and took all of them out as well.  I was suddenly dodging bodies, wheels, hands, legs, and a frame pump (who races with a frame pump?!?!?).  I made it out okay but somehow my seat angle got knocked all the way forward.  I couldn’t get it to go back in place while riding so I got off the bike, got it close enough, hopped back on and caught back on to the peloton.

 

As we went around the loops we would lose riders off the main pack with every climb.  I was worried that the Naval team would have some sort of strategy, but most of them dropped off the main group quickly.  On an early break attempt I used momentum on the rollers to slingshot the gap but the break didn’t stick. 

As the race was going on I was getting tired keeping the pace up the two climbs in the loop.  I sucked through one of my bottles in no time.  I still had a full second bottle when I hit a series of small pot holes the knocked my second bottle (Good bye Body Concepts bottle) out of the cage.  Fortunately Hammer Nutrition was providing support with bottles filled with some sort of energy drink.  It was foul tasting but I needed the energy more than the taste. 

At this point there are about 12 of us left in the lead group. As we go around to the start of another lap a racer aggressively attacks the hill.  I didn’t really consider it much of a threat (the guy seemed pretty tired on previous climbs) and neither did anyone else.  Next thing we knew this guy had a huge lead.  The lead was too big for me to try and gap and I was barely hanging on as it was.  The group eventually organized to get a pace line going to try and catch him.  I was extremely tired and decided not to participate in the line and hung off the back.  That may have ruffled feathers but I felt that if I took a lead I would be too tired to latch back on at the end of the line.  Once organized, the guy was caught pretty quickly and the pace settled down for the last lap through as everyone was anticipating the big climb out.

There were some strong climbers in this group and I didn’t really think I stood a chance at finishing in the top 3 as they had outpaced my best efforts in the loop.  So my plan was to work my way up as many riders as I could on the climb out.  Top 5 isn’t out of the question.  During the climb I was with the group when some riders started to fall off the pace.  Things were going well until a guy next to me started to have shifting problems.  He stared down at his gears and veered left, right towards me.  I stopped pedaling and veered left as well to avoid being hit.  This instantly gave the group a good sized gap on me.  And I was left going solo the rest of the way up.   I did pass another rider, maybe two…  Not enough oxygen to keep the brain working properly so I can’t remember. 

Because of the brutal pace the final hill was difficult. The final hill wasn’t really that steep which I would have preferred as that would have worked to my strengths. I tried to push as hard as I could all the way to the finish and I was thankful to see the white line coming up because I was getting light-headed.

I was so tired at that point that I realized late that I had to do a course correction. I had been drifting towards the right side of the road which is for people who are abandoning the race. As I certainly was not one of them I had to use what little ability and strength that remained to turn back towards the left side of the course. I felt like I was riding through molasses in winter.  There were a lot of people on the side of the road cheering the race on which gave me the extra motivation to keep my exhausted legs moving and finish the race.

In the end I was satisfied because I was utterly wiped; I had put forth my best effort and I raced in the strongest group of riders I have ever ridden against in an elite age-group in such a major race with folks participating from all over. As the results came in I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had finished 8^th!

I was elated! I knew I would be in the final 12 but with all the factors working against me to reach all the way to 8^th place in this kind of race was more than I could have hoped. I immediately called my wife and she freaked out with excitement. She kept telling me how proud she was of me and I was so happy and satisfied that all this work and sacrifice to race was paying off. It was important to me that I could do well and show my family that with hard work and training I could make the most of their support and help.

Once the adrenaline wore off the full brunt of the exhaustion hit me. I had been invited to a Body Concepts party at a house that had been rented by BC teammates in other categories but I had to miss it. I just couldn’t get the energy to try and wrangle two bored boys who hadn’t been listening very well at a “grown-up” event and attempt to recover in time for an early morning race the very next day (what was I thinking?!?).

I finally collapsed into bed wondering how in the hell I was going to survive tomorrow’s race…. (to be continued in Part Two, click here to read)