Big Fish, Small Pond or
Is This Waterhole Shrinking?
By Edward L. Ewert

In the preceding two weeks before this race, I felt a minor kind of dread. On paper the course and venue sounded great, vineyards, Santa Barbara County, single-track etc. Then I heard trickles of reality, heat, big climbs, long course, shade free, dust, and on and on. I remember now, grapes like heat, damn. Maybe, my body will remember that I lived in Phoenix for 12 years and I used to play Aerobie after work in August.

I had spent the leading weeks up to the race riding my older Redline as a converted road bike (still single speed) in preparation for the 50 Mile Rosarito to Ensenada Fun Ride. The ride was a blast and I had no problems with my longest ride on a single speed to date. However, when hitting the trails with my half complete race bike during last week, I found a lack of willingness in my legs to climb. It was stupid to try and dial a new bike in one week before a race too, but then again I ride a SS, so my intelligence is suspect anyway. I felt worthless and weak on the course pre-ride Saturday, and as usual, I didn’t sleep as the course played over and over in my head. All the pieces were there for a Sunday “I told-you-so” from my wife who felt I had been slacking. It’s hard when your mate holds the mirror up, and what you see is harsh reality. “But I got all those road miles in” I said. Somehow she knew it was BS, and I knew it too. She is nothing but supportive, but will definitely let me know if I am fooling myself.

Well, I am at the start trying to talk casually with my competitors while keeping the assorted butterflies, locusts, and scarabs from making the inevitable happen. I was disappointed to see there were only five of the big guys this time. Ready or not, I still want to earn my place. Fortunately, the winner of the Bonelli race finally moved up to Sport, so I had a decent chance of a podium if I could squash the seething mass of figurative bugs in my gut. Go! We are off, six Clydesdales (one in the younger class) for the easy flat section. I felt this would be bad for me riding SS, and I would have to make up time in the hills. Not the case! I kept the leader in my sights the whole time and kept a small lead on the rest. Something weird was happening, I felt pretty good, but I knew the real challenge was ahead. Kept telling myself keep your pace and recover when possible. My computer died the day before, so I guessimated (maybe that was a good thing; I’ll have to look into that.) After passing several riders in the previous classes the first and most difficult climb was near. The leader made it there just before the traffic, and I would lose sight of him shortly for good. After passing a few people I got stuck behind someone on a switchback and had to hop off for a short jog to a relatively flat section. After getting back on I made it to the top without getting off the bike again. After that hill, nothing on the course is as steep, so I was relieved to be feeling relatively good. After some single-track downhill action another climb looms and I’m stuck behind a guy who looks to be half my size. We go back and forth a few times on the climb/flat sections, I am barely able to turn the cranks over at this speed so I am glad for the lighter weight of the new bike. He blows a shift on the last leg of the climb and I never see him again. On to some washboard single track, I am barely able to see where I am going (really happy to have pre-run the course sat this point) the carbon front end is not a suspension after all, but I know there is nothing too tricky to worry about on this section.

After sometime alone, I see more traffic ahead at the base of the last long climb, time to go to work. This hill is a frustrating grade for my gear ratio, can’t sit or stand, so I ride up to someone sitting, wait until I can safely pass and then stand and crank fast, then sit again. By now I have learned that I usually don’t have to worry about people passing on the hills, we are all suffering and most don’t trying passing in this situation. After working through all the traffic I am at the top and ready for the downhill back to the start. By now I was happy to be almost done, but I knew that if I didn’t put enough distance on the competition they could catch me on the last mile or so of flat trail before the finish. I kept the cranks spinning as fast as possible, and two or three people that were close to the top of the last hill passed me, but they weren’t in my class and I couldn’t pedal faster anyway.

The finish was uneventful and I felt much better than I did after Bonelli. I was confused about that. The race was longer, hotter, hillier, harder, and I wussed out riding a road bike for two weeks beforehand, so what gives? I must have somehow got my fueling right or didn’t go fast enough; I didn’t deserve to feel like this, right? In reality, the winner beat me by a pretty significant margin, and I barely finished in the top third of all beginners, so I have some work to do. The leader has averaged about one mph faster in both races, and that works out to about 1½ less teeth on my cog, so I’ll see you out on the road and trails. Luck or not, at least I don’t have to look into that spousal mirror for a couple of days.