Well, I went out and did the second Grasshopper on Saturday. It was nice and chilly, but I had dressed for it with my magic Cannondale Jacket and my big, blue gloves. My feet were ice cold, but by the end of the ride I had gotten used to that. It was definitely a smaller field than the first Grasshopper which I can only assume was from the very cold and slightly damp conditions. Or maybe it was the description of the ride which listed a number of very steep climbs on it. Anyway, having only one bike ride under my belt during the previous two weeks, I felt well rested and ready to go.
As we coasted down Bohemian Hwy., I was sitting nicely in the middle of the pack enjoying the gentle spray of ice cold water off of the tires in front of me. The start of this race is definitely interesting in that you end up coasting quite a bit during the first couple of miles, or at least that is supposed to be what happens. Luck was with me that morning and I managed to hit a giant pothole right at the town of Camp Meeker. Both of my water bottles flew out of their cages and I felt like my front wheel was going to break in half. I was able to exit the pack and cross the road to rummage through the underbrush for my bottles. They were easily found, and my wheel was nice and straight. Good old hand built wheels and 28mm tires. The tricky part was that now I had to do a little chasing down the road. Not what I had been planning, but definitely a nice warmer upper. I caught the back of what I thought was the pack, but there had been a split in the middle, so I had to do a little effort to bridge the gap up to the front pack. I don’t think it cost me much for the day, but I knew that I didn’t have a lot in my bank account for the race. Most of the ride into Cazadero was pretty uneventful from their.
When we hit our first climb up Fort Ross Road, I bid the front pack a fond farewell, and let myself drift backwards at my own pace up the climb. It was going to be a long, long day, and I knew that I needed to save something up for the latter part of the race. I got sprinkled on a tiny bit as we climbed Fort Ross Road, but not enough to make me too wet, just enough to keep the road wet. The drop down Meyer’s Grade was a little less fun than usual because of the wet roads, but still quite a scream.
From Hwy. 1 (the PCH for A1), we turned up Willow Creek which, as I have mentioned many times, is one of the best climbs in the county. The road was wet and muddy and bumpy and what more could you ask for it a climb. Oh, yea, there are no cars on the road. I had a tiny bit of cramping happening on the steeper sections of Willow Creek, but nothing too bad. I grabbed some GU and water at the top and made a right hand turn onto Coleman Valley Road. I was surprised that I had no inclinations to turn left, which would have dropped me right down to the Hub Bus.
The rest of the “race” was just a survival sort of ride. My plan of pacing myself over the first couple of climbs seemed to be paying off as I caught and passed some folks as they were trying to work cramps out of their legs. The climb over Bay Hill Road went well with no cramping. The final climb, Joy Road, was the butt kicker. I was with a group of around 5 guys when we hit the bottom of the climb and as both of my thighs cramped, I figured that I would just get dropped off, but they were in the same boat, and we all stayed pretty much together. I do wish that I had a little easier gearing on climbs like that, or maybe that I had eaten less cupcakes.