It was 89 degrees outside when I drove to the shop at 6pm. You would think people would like to stay inside and eat ice cream whole evening; however, it was again another big turn out.

I rolled up next to Berry. My first ride this March with the shop to Water Dog was with Berry’s group, and I remember I walked a lot of it causing the group to wait. So, after that I joined the FBG rides for the next two or three weeks and in the mean time, I kept visiting the park on my bike during lunch breaks twice a week, so when I re-joined Berry’s group rides, I had gained a lot more confidence. Since that, I’ve been a regular in his group rides.

Today, Berry said he was feeling feisty on his new 49er, which was a slip that we caught and made fun of, so he decided to climb Elevator Trail today. That’s one of the toughest climbs in the park because it’s continuously steep and despite being a fire road, it often only offers one narrow line that provides decent traction. I was almost happy when I heard that. First of all, I always liked challenging climbs even if I couldn’t clear them 100%. Secondly, I have been on it four times with Bryn for the past couple of months, and I did climb it successfully the second time while being close the third and fourth times, so I might have a chance tonight. “Imagine how impressed people will be if I clear it tonight…” Unfortunately, I came off near the start of the steep climb, worse than any of my previous attempts. I guess that’s the punishment I get for having the wrong motive. As Patty later wittily put it, I wanted to show off, but instead, I was shown off.

Back at the shop, when I asked Daryl if he could take a group up Elevator next week, he said, with excitement, “Deal!” (I do wonder if it’s like cheating if he takes his brand new Ibis Mojo on the ride.)

I brought my camera along to document tonight’s ride.

A big turnout at the shop despite the hot temperature.

Charles and Jen were riding on a tandem, something always fascinating to me. I missed a good shot when they came up Upper Creek Canyon, but my group had started rolling towards DMC.

At the gate with Berry in the front.

Elevator Trail shut many people down.

But as our governor once said, “I will be back!”

I brought my new Canon SD870IS  on the ride. Having been used to the high quality shots from our bulky Olympus Ultrazoom C-770, I was quite disappointed in seeing the end results. However, for what it’s worth, I uploaded all my photos to my gallery.  Mainly, the people in the pictures came out too dark in contrast to the sunny background. Maybe I should take some classes on digital photographing so I do not rely on the Auto mode.  Anyway, I apologize for the disappointing photo quality.

Most of the ride, I hung in the middle, so naturally, I took more photos of those around me or behind me.  There is no favoritism here. You are all my favorite! :)

Amrit and Ravi: They are Cindy’s guest divas, and they are going to Whistler in a week. How exciting!

Christine: Our ride leader. We met her hubby, Tonjy, and kids before the ride.

Cindy: The diva who is in Dirt Rag magazine, i.e. she is a celebrity.

DeeDee (Doutschan): Cindy’s guest diva. A quiet guy. What do you other girls think?

Erin: Our ride leader too. We heard that her place is heaven to any cyclist.

Janet: I’d much rather be reading her version of the ride report.

Jill: Don’t be fooled by her nick name, DH Jill. She is very good at up hill too, esp. when it’s littered with roots and rocks.

Karla: Cheerful, and strong. You will never need to look back to check where she is because you can always hear her.

Lesley: She learned something from her fall off a bridge, a fall that could have had much worse result. Yet, she walked away from it like in a miracle.

Liona (Lior): Jill’s guest diva. He made killer hummus. Mmmm, killer!

Mathilda (Matt): Cindy’s guest diva.

Mei: The bad photographer.

Group shots:

This is our ride that starts from the entrance to Deer Park (where we used the bathrooms) and ends at Java Hut in town where we parked.

============
What: Women’s ride at Water Dog Lake Park in Belmont followed by dinner & drinks at Passion Trails Bicycles
Where: Passion Trails Bicycles, 415-C Old County Road, Belmont.
When: Roll out at 6 pm Friday, August 22

The Friday Female Fiesta offers multiple routes for multiple skill levels at multiple paces:

Fat Bottomed Girl Ride, an introductory/beginner level ride with coaching and minimal miles.
White Socks Ride, a group for advanced beginners and intermediate level riders who want to go slower.
Silly Girls Regular Ride, the intermediate level group mostly everyone else wants to ride in.
Long Legged Ladies Ride, the group for hammer chicas who want to feel the burn and turn out some miles.
=============

It sounded fun, but I would not be able to make it because we were planning to go climbing at Yosemite again. So the email went straight into my Deleted folder and it was not dug back out until Thursday when Erik asked me apologetically, “I need to work this weekend. Would you mind if we stay around?”  I was almost happy to hear that because that would enable me to join this fun event on Friday night and ride Tamarancho the first time with a small group of dirt divas. I was beyond supportive and understanding for my hard-working husband this time.

When Sam asked in an email if anyone was willing to lead the Long Legged Ladies (LLL) Ride in case she could not make it due to family emergency, I took a look at myself in the mirror — yep, legs are long compared to the rest of the body — and answered her calling.  But mainly, I felt some kind of obligation because I had been to Water Dog a little over 50 times by now and thought my intimate familiarity with the park could be useful.  However, when Patty started giving a briefing before the groups took off, I found myself swallow hard at her frequent mentioning of “fast” when describing LLL Ride. That was not in the description, was it?

My “Oh boy, what did I get myself into?” panic did not let up when I saw Kathleen pull up next to me. I recognized her right away even though we had never met because I had seen some photos of her on MTBR. There were some great tales about her. For example, she placed well at TransRockies Challenges 2002 partnering with Keith Bontrager. However, my favorite story was told by BigLarry that at Skeggs, she led a pack of hard ass guys in body armor down Steam Donkey, screaming out in her sweet voice: “Get a picture of me - I’m beating all the boys!!” When our group left the shop, it was me with three others: Kathleen, Chris, Camille, who seemed to all know each other well.  As if that was not intimidating enough, Beckie joined the group when we rolled by her house on Ralston. She was part of the crew who helped build the trails at Water Dog. I just heard Berry, a regular PTB shop ride leader, tell a story last Wednesday about his mountain biking trip to Oregon with a group of friends — 11 of them including Beckie. When they came to a 6+ foot drop at a 45+ degree angle, everyone walked it except Beckie. Berry ended the story with a comment, “I wish I had her techniques.”  Seeing the four of them chatting intimately, at that point, I was almost certain that there must be some great stories about Camille and Chris waiting to be told as well.

As intimidating as it should have been riding with such a group of great riders, it was the opposite. It turned out to be not only a relaxing ride, but also a super fun one. As our group grew bigger with the addition of Angel and Sam, conversations and laughs were abundant. Other groups were not too far from us and occasionally we heard them from all over the canyon. The little city park became very lively. From time to time, we rolled by various vista points where we could overlook the bay glittering in the setting sun. You just could not ask for more, but there was still a lot more this ride was going to offer.  Back at the shop, a few lads had already been busy cooking before we even started riding. When we got back to the shop, the spread was more than impressive, from all sorts of refreshments, to fresh salad, soup, cheese sandwiches, mashed potatoes, pork chops, steaks, home-made wild blue berry pies, cocktails, and more. Catching up with old friends, meeting new friends, and making future riding plans, we treasured this precious evening when we got totally spoiled. Oh, it feels so good to be spoiled once in a while.

Another great turn out

Riding towards the park. Beckie on the left, Camille in the middle, and Kathleen to the right.

Beautiful smiles on the bikes. Chris in the front, Sam to the left and Angel to the right.

The guys started working before the ride started. From left to right: Rich, Michael, and the head chef J.

And they were still working hard long after the ladies settled into the socializing stage.

Because of these guys, there could be a room full of ladies relaxed and joyful. Charles is half hidden way in the back. He is the cocktail mixer.

There was no way I would let Nat's pink-neon colored hair escape my camera.

Susan showing Reba her birds.

We headed out on Friday leaving Erik's work around 6pm. By the time we pulled in to Ron and Liz's B&B, it was past 2am.  There was an accident past Pecheco pass that turned eastbound Hwy 152 into a long and narrow parking lot. Cars inched forward a few feet at a time with a long period of standing still in between. People were losing their mind in the agonizing traffic and it was not unusual to hear a car honk purposelessly.  Erik exhibited tremendous patience and did not swear once during the three long hours covering a mere 20 mile distance. We owed our thanks to a 13-CD audio book, Nixon and Mao: The Week That Changed the World by Margaret MacMillan, a book detail oriented, thoroughly researched, and informative.

Originally, Erik planned on doing one day of climbing to return to work on Sunday. After the physically taxing long drive, he changed his mind — we had to make the trip worth it. Since we climbed only half way on the Rostrum [ur=http://www.mudncrud.com/forums/index.php?topic=799.0]last time[/url], it seemed like a natural choice for us to get back on it and finish it.

After a lazy morning hanging out with Ron and Liz, we did not get started on the climb until afternoon. Although we slept in by climbers' standard for we didn't get up until 8am, still it was only about 6 hours of sleep. No enough. The valley was hot, and with the cloud coverage, it felt muggy too. Due to the heat and lack of sleep, I was not in my brightest mood. Instead, I was feeling heavy the moment I started climbing. Erik took all the lead. Neither of us climbed very well. I fell at places I'd never fallen before. My first time on the route was way better than today. We were both fatigued and dehydrated and our climbing was not graceful. Fortunately, there was not another soul in sight. Despite the opportunity to escape from the big ledge on top of the fourth pitch, we stuck to the climb and it was a good feeling finally when we topped out in light. When we got back, we could barely drag our bodies over the door steps of Ron and Liz's B&B. That night, we crashed hard.

I expected after a good night of sleep, I would feel renewed and energetic. It did not happen. When I woke up, every muscle in my body hurt. My knees looked terrible with bruises all over. That was from thrashing around in the offwidth. Although I did not fall out of it, my form was poor because my feet hurt in the climbing shoes and I was extremely tired and desperate. Erik was in no better shape than me. He grunted just to get out of his sleeping bag. So, when we drove off towards the valley in the late morning, he had one plan in mind — eating popsicles and swimming under the bridge by El Cap meadow. It was not until the very last second that he swirled into the right lane for Hwy 41 leading to the top of the Rostrum when I prompted him that he should get the trip's worth of climbing. We decided to just do the bottom few pitches on the Rostrum.

When we arrived at the base, there was one party of two guys high up at the Gold Corner (10d) pitch and a young couple from Salt Lake City starting up. The guy looked solid leading the first pitch. The girl looked impressive for she was wearing shorts and a tank top.  Erik and I expected to watch her style the climb. However, when she picked up a mid-sized backpack stuffed full with whatever and commented that she did not have her chalk bag, I felt nervous for her — it would be hard to climb the route with such a pack and the weather, though cooler than yesterday, was still sweat inspiring. She did end up having a hard time on the first pitch and had to break out her jumar. So they repelled on a single rope from the first pitch with our help and left us alone on the climb. Well, not exactly alone because we could hear the two guys cheering loudly after they tackled the offwidth pitch.  They must be decent climbers having made good progress on the climb and might even be nice people in life. However, they left behind an empty glass bottle (for nectar juice from TJ's) right at the base — the bottle was not there yesterday and it didn't belong to the young couple — so, "poor form" is all I had to say about those two guys.

Erik and I cruised up the first four pitches to the big ledge without any incidence, again he leading everything.  Wanting to end the weekend on a pleasant note, we called it a day. On the climb, Erik had been staring at the swimming hole below, so that's where we went afterward.  The snow melt water in Merced river was chilly, which felt really good when I dipped my throbbing feet in. Erik, a few feet away, screamed when he attempted to lower his body in. Needing to wear his down jacket all year around whenever he is outside at night, he had hoped for water of a higher temperature. Instead of swimming around like what he had dreamed whole day, he splashed water on to his body quickly before retreating to sunbathing. Again, luckily, there was not another soul in sight. He, spreading widely on a rock platform, contently ignored my laughs.

Maybe we are getting old because getting an early start seems to get harder and harder. When we arrived at the top of the Rostrum at 8am, I thought for sure I would see a line of cars. After all, the bird closure had only been lifted last weekend, so people must have been dying to get on it. I was astonished to find the climb empty. Well, that worked well for us because we were not particularly fast. Unlike three years ago when I did it with Erik last time, he actually took his time on the first four pitches that led to the big ledge right below the crux pitch. Last September, he did the Rostrum with Steve on the morning of our wedding day (and still made it to the wedding in his tux after a shower), but he has not been climbing much at all other than that. So, when we got to the ledge, we decided to leave the top half for another time. Just then, Blaine from Fresno and his friend Tevase from Colorado showed up on the ledge. They came here just to crag the crux pitch on the Rostrum and the first pitch of Blind Faith right next to it. We teamed up by putting our two ropes up the climbs. Erik and I each ran four or five laps on the Rostrum and two laps on Blind Faith. By the end of the day, every fiber in my body hurt. My fingers were raw and tender and my feet screamed everytime I jammed my toes into the thin crack. But I was happy because I figured out the move at the crux on the Rostrum and managed to climb without hanging on my last two laps. We also had a good time chatting with Blaine and Tevase.

Feeling defeated on the Rostrum, Erik decided to do a moderate climb on Sunday. Kor-Beck was the choice. This climb has the reputation for being a Yosemite old school. Most people do the first six pitches because after that it’s mainly fourth class leading to the notorious Kat Walk, which had no appeal to me. So, we brought two ropes with us for the rappel. I read in Supertopo that the climb gets morning sun, so if we had been sensible, we would have waited to start in the afternoon. When we started climbing around 9am, the climb was already cooking in the full sun. The climb is rated 5.9, so it is not very technical, but there are some sections of climbing in a groove or an awkward chimney. Because all of Erik’s shoes were in need of resole or beyond resole, he was wearing a pair of new Anasazi Velcro (bought mainly for the face climbs at Pinnacles) and he was audibly in pain. We had a full view of El Cap on the entire climb. The sun was warm on my back, but the gentle breeze kept the temperature pleasant. We had a little conversation that still made me laugh to this day. At one point, feeling content, I looked up smiling and shouted out to Erik who was up grunting in a Chimney, “Honey…” “What?” “I love you!” I expected to hear “I love you too” back; instead, after only a very brief pause, he responded, “You say that to everyone right before they are about to die.” The unexpected response made me chuckle for the rest of the climb. When we reached the top of the crux (5th) pitch, Erik couldn’t bear the pain in his feet any more, so we started our rappel down. By then, the climb had entered the shade. On our way down, we crossed paths with a team of three just starting up.

Although it was still early, Erik was calling it a day. On our way out of the park, we saw a car parked next to the Generator Crack boulder. We pulled over to check it out — it would be fun to watch people climb that crack. It was a young international team — one German, one English, and one American. The funny thing was they all had a strong English accent. As it turned out they all went to school in England. Seemingly strong climbers, they tried to muscle their way up the crack and one even attempted to lie back the crack, but none of them succeeded. I think Erik said something to them and I got a warm offer to the rope. I went back to the car and fetched my harness. Remembering having a hard time starting off the ground and having had to retreat to the tree start, I was feeling a bit unsure about how I would do today. But I told this little international group, in the spirit of Olympics, I would represent China if I managed to climb it. To my surprise, I had no trouble starting from the ground this time and made good progress on the climb without hanging. They were obviously impressed, which made me feel pretty good. What a good way to conclude a weekend of climbing!

p.s. I wrote this trip report while watching the replay of the Olympics Opening Ceremony. So I apologize for any disorganization and error.

The 11a crux on Pitch 2 of the Rostrum. You first down climb and traverse over to get to it.

Blaine styling the first pitch of Blind Faith.

Taken on Kor-Beck with El Cap in the background.

This time, I did not have much trouble getting up Generator Crack.

There are some good references online for many, if not all, of these climbs. For example,

• [1] Lucas’s cycling gradiometer page.
• [2] Some Southwest San Francisco Bay Area Climbs (Western Wheeler’s Bicycle Club)

Alpine West

• Start: A small bridge (right above the bridge is a brown sign that reads “…. Grove”)
• End: Skyline (Hwy 35)
• Distance: 6.65 miles
• Elevation: 1883′ (ascent) / 180′ (descent)
• My recorded best time: 45:37 (03/09/2008) -> 41:18 (08/02/2008)
• Erik’s recorded best time: 44:10 (03/09/2008) -> 41:15(08/02/2008)
• My comments: A nice climb. 70% in the shade. A first timer might be fooled by a couple of false summits only to find that there is more climbing to do around the bend. On the way up, you will get to a stop sign, where you turn left. There is a short descent before the climb to the top. And there is another descent after the summit before the road ends at Skyline. On the other side of Skyline is Page Mill Road. Traffic is very light on this road. Descending on this road is pretty pumpy in the forearms because of its fast descent and many blind turns in the upper half.
• Web references: [2]

Old La Honda (OLH)

• Start: The concrete bridge shortly after you turn on to the road.
• End: Stop sign (Skyline — Hwy 35)
• Distance: 3.21 miles
• Elevation Gain: 1285′ (ascent) / 15′ (descent)
• My recorded best time: 25:46 (03/09/2008 after Alpine West) -> 23:24 (08/02/2008 aAW)
• Erik’s recorded best time: 25:24 (03/09/2008 after Alpine West) -> 23:21 (08/02/2008 aAW)
• My comments: Almost my favorite hill climb. 94% in the shade. Not too steep but sustained. Some sections of the road are a little bumpy. Traffic is light, but because much of the road is so narrow that it gets a little annoying (to both parties) when a car needs to pass a cyclist. I heard somewhere that it’s bad form to descend Old La Honda on weekends. I’ve never descended this road. Not sure how it is coming down.
• Web references: FelixWong’s blog , [1] , [2]

Page Mill

• Start: Moon Road (I need to double check. It’s the entrance to the Palo Alto Open Space.)
• End: Stop sign (Skyline - Hwy 35)
• Distance: 7.48 miles
• Elevation Gain: 2075′ (ascent) / 190′ (descent)
• My recorded best time: 54:01 (03/09/2008 after Alpine West and OLH)
• Erik’s recorded best time: 51:15 (03/09/2008 after Alpine West and OLH)
• My comments: So far, I’ve always done this climb after at least two other big climbs, so it always feels hard on this road. But it does offer a couple of short descents for you to rest your legs and catch up with breadths. In my impression, this road is 30% in the shade. There are two short steep sections one around half way and one near the top, but they are so short that you are over them very fast. So far I haven’t experienced heavy traffic on this road. For the most part, the road is wide enough that cars can easily pass.
• Web references: [2]

Pescadero (East side)

• Start: The turn off from Alpine
• End: The summit (the obvious point where you cannot go up any more)
• Distance: 1.64 miles
• Elevation Gain: 603′ (ascent) / 8′ (descent)
• My recorded best time: 14:39 (03/09/2008, but this can’t be the best because this was after three big climbs, but this is the only record I could find)
• Erik’s recorded best time: 13:31 (same as above)
• My comments: The road surface on this one is superior. But for the same reason, motorcyclists love this road. It’s common to run into strings of motorcycles on weekends. Some of them go a bit too fast. All you can do is hope that they know what they are doing. 90% in the shade. It used to feel like a big hill until recently.
• Web references: [2]

Sierra Road

• Start: Sierra Road & Onslow Way
• End: The summit
• Distance: 3.70
• Elevation Gain: 1832′ (ascent)
• My recorded best time: (32:15.50 02/16/2008 Webcor King of Mountain Ride)
• Erik’s recorded best time: N/A
• My comments: I love this climb. It’s beautiful. Okay, I live in an area where there are many beautiful climbs, but I guess the openness of this one appeals to me. I found myself looking around on the brutal uphill taking in the peaceful views of the rolling hills and the bay area down below. I haven’t done this one in the summer yet, but I’m guessing it will be very character-building since it’s pretty much 95% in the sun. I’ve found it work out really well for us to park near Calaveras and Piedmont (there are a couple of churches there) and ride over (about 3 miles of flats) to the start as a warm up. And then just drop down Calaveras to make it a 15 mile loop.
• Web references: My first time, my second time, [2]

To be continued…

Template

• Start:
• End:
• Distance:
• Elevation Gain:
• My recorded best time:
• Erik’s recorded best time:
• My comments:
• Web references:

The weekend before the last one, I worked hard in the house and cleaned four bikes, and Mud worked hard in the yard and hauled twenty loads of cleared tree branches and bushes to the dump yard.

Last weekend, we worked on replacing our stove. It was a learning process. We made one trip into town on Saturday to get the gaps pipe adapter (had a hard time finding the right ones).  Hooked it up. The flames were spectacular, but the bottoms of the kettle and the pans got all covered in soot. Turned out that the stove was set up for natural gas, but we run LP gas (propane) and we made another trip into town to get the adapter for that. In the mean time, we did cellphone shopping and saw James.

Those weekends were productive, but I can get a trip report out of them! I’ll have to see if this weekend follows the same pattern or not.

Last year, I posted A (very) slow rider's Downieville XC report here. In response to the generous encouragement I received, I promised I would come back. A promise is a promise is a promise. I did. So here I am again to report back.

This paragraph is for the impatient as well as the time-crunched people: I improved, from last year's 4:48:53 (10th out of 10) to this year's 3:25:38 (2nd out of 7 per Sunday afternoon's result postings). I was more than proud of myself.  However, despite the possibility that I could have been the only rider wearing a (tennis) skirt in the race and the fact that I made multiple attempts during the four hours before the award ceremony to correct the result after seeing the wrong report, I remained mis-categorized in a men's class (obviously they made a mistake while putting my information into the computer system after my on-site registration) until Sunday. Which should have been my first ever podium moment never came. I was a bit disappointed. But the fact that my husband Erik (strom here) surprised himself by placing 1st (2:56:06) in his class and stood proud on the podium made up for it. 

Okay, now I will write for the me in 10 years who will not be able to remember anything about this event more than what's written in these words as well as for those of you who feel at loss when you have to close up your laptop at midnight because you have run out of posts to read on MTBR. I'll try my best to be wordy.

I guess nobody can argue with me that I was very slow last year. Nope. I did not have any mechanical problems, nor did I cramp or crash. I was just a bit mudwormy. Being a total novice to mountain biking, I was very happy and proud to have survived a course that everyone talked about with great fear or admiration. So, after the race, I happily pushed my bike to the back of the storage and busied myself with other activities. 

As I learned, forgetting about something does not really make it go away. In late March this year, our good friend Derek called and gently informed us, "Uh, Downieville is coming up and you are going. Do not break our tradition."  (Mental note to myself: I need to look up the word tradition in a dictionary.)  When I heard the message, I went pale — "Downieville is coming up in less than four months and I am more of a novice now than in last July because I have not touched my bike since. Help!!!"   

God must have heard me because he made my LBS restart their weekly group rides to Water Dog, a Belmont City park, for the season, and I was happy to find out about it because the park was only a couple of miles from work. From March 19, when I did my first ride with the group, to the day of the race, I have visited Water Dog thirty-six times. Besides the group rides, I did short rides twice a week during lunch breaks with a colleague. The small park is surprisingly rich in technical singletracks. One particular trail is called Finch Trail, aka 13 Switchbacks. In the beginning, I could only ride one or two switchbacks on the way down and five switchbacks on the way up, and gradually, I found myself riding more and more of those. One day I found myself humming a song quietly while cruising down at ease. Little progresses like this kept me motivated and excited. Suddenly, mountain biking is no longer associated with fear; it is fun! 

Erik was not available to ride with during the week, so I reached out to other people. I found a group of dirt divas, all good riders, fun and supportive, to ride with at Arastradero once a week. But on some weekends, when Erik and I did not go rock climbing, we would seek out long rides to do such as those we did at Henry Coe. When my birthday came in late June, Erik proposed we spend three days at Downieville. Sounded good. I remembered admiring the beauty of the mountains when I was on the course last year, so I would like to visit the place again. We rode the DH course the first day and the full XC course with variations (such as 2nd divide and a failed attempt to look for Big Boulder Trail) the next two days. I was more than happy to find that I was no longer scared on the technical sections. Don't get me wrong — I was still not fast, but I was not pushing my bike as much as I did last year. I could not have dreamed in my wildest dream last year that some day I would clear the baby heads! But I did!  I had so much fun that weekend that I said to Erik on our drive back, "Let's come back next weekend." So, we did. Again, we did DH with variations (Big Boulder) the first day. On Sunday, I convinced Erik that he should not wait for me at every intersection because I knew the course so well that I could ride it blindfolded. We should just ride it like in a race and time ourselves. I pushed myself hard (or I thought I did) and finished the XC course in 3:34. Erik got a flat and pushed his bike for 20 minutes until I caught up and handed him my kit (he hadn't had flats for years and got a bit delusional). We both improved our times over last year's. I thought now that we knew our times, we didn't have to enter the race. Derek did not buy that logic.

Anticipating being forced off or slowed down on the climb due to the conga line and not believing myself being able to go any faster on the downhill, I thought I would post a slower time in the race. Having adjusted for his lost time due to flat, Erik expected to finish the course in 3:15. We both beat our own expectations.

Studying my lap times of the preride (using my gps) and the race (using my watch), I was able to find out how I have trimmed nine minutes off. On the climb, I was never forced off by anybody, although I was often forced to go slower than I had liked because I didn't have the technical skills to pass people on less than optimal lines. That was as expected, so I just took the opportunities to regulate my breathing and conserve engergy, which enabled me to push hard on the last fire road climb before Packer Saddle. I shaved 42 seconds off of the preride. Then, the next lap — the Sunrise Trail and the rolling fireroad leading to the start of "baby heads" — was where my conserved energy earlier came to use because I shaved four and half minutes off.

My third lap included Pauley and Butcher Ranch, the most technical stretch on the entire course.  I never crashed on my prerides. But during the race, I crashed at least four times and went OTB once.  The technical downhill was at my limit and I was going as fast as I could. Still people kept closing in on me. As soon as I heard a rider behind me, I started thinking, "Oh, where can I pull over? Here? No, too narrow? There? No, too rugged and I will have a hard time to restart which will only stall the next rider coming up to me. OMG, where can I pull over?…"  Tackling the constant bobbing ups and downs and in the mean time, seeking an ideal place to pull over turned out to be too much for my brain to process, and I started making mistakes. A few times, I pulled over in such a hurry or at such an awkward spot that I would either lose my balance or fail to unclip and tip over.  Not wanting to be closed in too soon by the next rider, I would push myself to a point that I stopped looking for the best line and that was when I endoed. Finally, I had a chit-chat with myself. "Look, it is not your fault that people are slower than you up to this point, so stop being overpowered by the guilt that you were in front of them, which only messes up your head. It does nobody any good when you crash.  Now, focus on the trail and stop making mistakes. You pull over when you feel ready."  I calmed down a bit after that.  Of course, by that time, it also helped that Butcher was almost over.  It really surprised me when I found out that I actually shaved off one minute and twenty three seconds on this lap despite my frequent crashes. I guess the pressure did help push me a bit harder.

The fourth lap (3rd Divide and the fireroad after) went as I pre-rode it. Only twenty five seconds of improvement. But I shaved one minute and twenty five seconds on the whole of 1st Divide. When I got back to the paved road, I was feeling strong and passed a couple of people. I wished the uphill section had been longer, like 5 miles longer, because I believe that's when my endurance would shine. But, I was also happy when I stood at the finish line because I saw a time I could almost not believe. I grinned ear to ear. 

Things got even better when I saw on the preliminary result that I had a chance to podium! Wow, that had never happened to me before. Did I ever mention that I grew up a bookworm? I had my fingers crossed though because that was after I first found my name in a men's category and compared my time with others in my own category. I reported the mistake right away. To make sure it was addressed, I approached the person in charge twice to get a confirmation that the mistake had been corrected and both times I was brushed off with an unconvincing assurance. It was an utter disappointment when the girls behind me got called onto the podium while I was completely skipped. After the ceremony, I was lectured by the person in charge that people make mistakes sometimes. I guess in my case, four mistakes (registration, reporting, checking, and re-checking) stacked up against me. Oh well, it is history now. No big deal. Nobody can take away my time, of which I'm most proud. Would I have won the most-improved award if there were one?   

I still have a lot to say — about the real nice and fun people I met on this trip, the encouraging words I heard during the race, the good times we had hanging out with our friends Derek and Jeff, and so on. But it's past my bedtime now. So, thank you very much for reading and hope you had a great time at Downieville too if you were there.

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Well, actually I don’t know most of these people. On the course, I kept hearing encouraging words from strangers. Many from my fellow female racers such as “Yeah, you go, the skirted.” The course volunteers were encouraging as well. On Pauley, one guy shouted out both to his companion and to me, “At least, she’s riding it!” (A couple of guys were pushing on the side of a very rocky section.) I wouldn’t dwell on that “at least” part.

Remember the guy I told you about last year who walked across to our campsite to share with us his painful experience of pre-riding the XC course? On Friday, when Erik and I were setting up our tent, a truck pulled into the drive way across the road. A guy stepped out and I almost screamed in disbelief. I whispered to Erik, “See that guy there? Remember him from last year? Man, he looks ripped! Oh, I bet he is doing the XC race this year!” Sure enough, it was Mr. Crash (Mike). For someone who backed out of the XC race last year, he did amazingly well this time pulling a 3:14 finish time and he did the DH race next day. Good job, Mike!

And then there was NoBalance (Kris). Last year, he, a total stranger to me, made a comment to me while passing, “I saw your website. Nice job!” Since then, we’ve had a few PM exchanges. I knew having suffered massive cramps last time and finishing only 9 minutes ahead of me, he was determined to improve his time this year. And he did by a big margin , but I improved even more. So, when we met in person on this trip, after some friendly chit-chat, he parted ways saying, “Next year, I’ll beat you.” Kris, I’ve never liked the pressure of a competition, but if that’s what motivates you, bring it on! I have no doubt that you will do better next year.

On the long climb up, I traded positions with some people. Then on the rolling fireroad after Sunrise, it became obvious that I was crisscrossing with one big guy. Everytime there was a dip, he would bomb down by me even though we both were coasting and the momentum would carry him up ways. But then I would catch up and pass him pedaling up hill. After a couple of repeats, it became comical. I would whisper to him when I rode by, “Here I am again.” And he would laugh out loud, “There she goes again.” He disappeared as soon as we got on the downhill leading to the start of “baby heads.” But after the race, he came up to me by the river jump. It took me a second to recognize him. Scott from LA. We had a good laugh about our encounters on the course.

The evening after the race, we hang out at Derek and Jeff’s connected deck outside of their cabins. We ate dinner, drank wine, had brownies, and watched bike porn. No, just kidding. We watched a Hans Rey DVD. Down from us was the creek through Sierra City, and above was a half moon peacefully hanging in the sky.

Good times.

Not so lazy that I haven’t been riding Arastradero, but too lazy to write about it. After a few weeks away, Mei rode with us tonight. In her gentle way she gave me a small dose of guilt: “Has the group been riding? I haven’t seen any ride reports.” Yep, guilty as charged. We have been riding. I just haven’t been writing. So this is for you, Mei.

Last night Laura, Cindy, Yvonne, Jill2, Paul, Mei and I rolled out, the hurried excitement of spring now mellowed into a lazy summer pace. No rush to beat the sunset. None of the cooped-up-all-winter energy driving us to charge up the hills. No anxiety about losing riders on the trail. We all know the route by now.

Instead, a distinctly mellower pace, perhaps a futile effort to reduce the sweat dripping into our eyes. Perhaps knowing that we spent all our leg power over the three day weekend. Or perhaps just knowing that there’s plenty of time to ride when sunset is after 8:30–why rush?

Reminds me of being a kid in summer. When school first lets out you run around trying to experience it all, sucking up the freedom from books and sitting in a desk all day. Then July hits and you just hang out by the pool or creek or even in front of the TV. We complained about being bored, but in truth we were happy. Happy to know that every day you didn’t have to do something new and exciting ’cause there’s plenty of time. It’s midsummer.

In the summer, that’s what Arastradero is all about. It’s not Downieville or Tahoe or even Annadel. You don’t need to pack your bags, get your bike tuned up, arrange for carpools or (gasp!) fill that gas tank.

At Arastradero, you just show up, happy to know that every ride doesn’t need to be new and exciting. That hanging out and riding familiar trails is what midsummer is all about.

Until next week,

-Janet

I sucked my 70oz camelbak dry mid-way, and we filtered water from Frog Lake thanking the new Katadyn Hiker Water Filter we just bought (a recommendation I got on MTBR). And I emptied it again, but it was on the way back to our car on Coit Road, so it was no big deal.

The creeks were either low or dry. We didn't get our bikes wet at all this time.  There were quite a few people hanging out at China Hole cooling in the water holes. Other than that, we didn't see more than two hikers on the trails.

When we got back to the car, I patted myself on the back, "Good job for riding Coe for 35+ miles (motionbased) on a hot day like this!" Just when I was feeling proud of myself, a lone figure pulled into the parking lot on a mountain bike. Oh, I recoganize that figure from a distance — it was Plim (Roy)!  As we found out, he just did a solo ride for 44+ miles all the way to Paradise Lake. We had to flip the map over to find where lake was. I shrank talking to him.

Following are a few photos from the trip:

Inch by inch, I will get there.

The tree snapped on Flat Frog Trail. It makes it a bit tricky to go through. Click on the image for a full size to see how I "rode" it. 

The creek at the bottom of Middle Ridge is bone try.