FOX CUP #4
 

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TWW FOX CUP SERIES #4


Presented by our friends at

Napa Valley Dirt Classic


Angwin College, CA

April 24th, 2005

Visit their website for entry, directions, accomodations, etc.

Team Wrong Way Returns To The Napa Valley Dirt Classic!

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Results

 
Class Name 	    Place Name 			Result   Gap  Time Behind Race #
40-44 Expert Male 	5 Brenton Hamilton 	01:50:35 00:08:49 00:17:12 283
30-34 Sport Male 	5 Lloyd Ranola 		01:53:27 00:01:19 00:09:24 220 
35-39 Sport Male 	13 Franck Mangin 	01:52:09 00:00:24 00:11:12 128
40-44 Sport Male 	8 Rich Henthorn 	01:52:25 00:00:43 00:09:06 247 
35-39 Sport Male 	19 Allan Sherlock 	01:58:00 00:01:52 00:17:03 370
35-39 Sport Male 	22 Dave McCrimmon 	02:02:40 00:02:06 00:21:43 343
35-39 Sport Male 	26 Paul Ollerich 	02:09:30 00:02:22 00:28:33 462
40-44 Sport Male 	4 Michael Urbina 	01:49:05 00:00:46 00:05:46 453
40-44 Sport Male 	11 David Gittleson 	01:55:01 00:01:27 00:11:42 459
40-44 Sport Male 	14 Jeff R. Hane 	01:56:47 00:00:22 00:13:28 31
Senior  Sport Women 	6 Meredith R. Obendorfer 02:30:14 00:12:23 00:35:36 420
35-44 (W) Sport Female 	2 Jennifer Oellerich 	02:11:32 00:02:09 00:02:09 461
35-44 (W) Sport Female 	6 Kathleen Meyer 	02:15:31 00:02:18 00:06:08 351
Junior 2 Beginner Men 	4 Patrick Meyer 	02:27:23 00:07:38 00:20:33 348
Senior 2 Sport Men 	3 Matt Leonard 		02:13:38 00:22:50 00:29:12 211
Clydesdale 		7 Christopher Machon 	02:01:46 00:00:15 00:12:08 458
Master Women 		1 Julie Barott 		02:03:37 00:00:00 00:00:00 205

Race Reports
 

I woke up feeling good, such a relief after my last few weeks of lung/head clog.  6am comes pretty early as I slept a little restless after finally hitting the bed around 1am.  At 6:45 I am picking up Allan and we are on our way.  We arrive at the parking lot at 8:45ish and registration was a breeze.  No prereg for me means no t-shirt or I could spend an extra ten'r, so no t-shirt for me. 

I procede to my warmup routine and the legs feel okay not stellar but not screaming "why did you even bother."  During my ride around, I run into Urbina and chat for awhile then head to the line.

The start, I am in prime position toward the front of the pack.  Why?  Who knows, it just felt right.  The countdown begins and were off.  I watch and slide towards the rear of the pack.  I look back and there are still quite a few people behind me but an awful lot ahead of me.  I feel smooth but not overly strong.  We hit this stupid hike a bike and I push my bike up the hill w/o much zeal but finally make it over the top.  I get over towards the airport and all the TWW jerseys are gone.  My game plan is keep a steady pace.  After all this is my first MTB race of the year and I haven't  uite been up to par lately.  I pass a few people as we head by the airport.  As I enter the whoops, I hear Allan.  Hmmm I know I am not riding that fast so something must be wrong.  I catch up to him as we go through the whoops and then he pulls away only for me to catch him and him to pull away.  You know your not doing to well when you look around and
see all these people struggling but they are still ahead of you.  I pass Allan as we head down to the slippery mossy rock creek crossing.  I know he is right behind me because he is chatting up a storm. Bastard isn't even tired just struggling.  I am fighting my bike as now I know 45 PSI is too great of tire pressure when you have loose wet leaves covering the ground.  So even the DH portions of the course are alot of work today rather than gliding.  Allan passes me back at some point and we make our way through some really great new singletrack.  I am staying smooth and making up ground on people that are struggling with the tight singletrack, it kind of reminds me of riding on the east coast but still alittle wide and no wet tree roots.  Still I am swearing at myself for having 45psi in the tires, I have this chant going in my head that says 38, 38, 38....  Oh well I didn't get a flat.

I am heading down this really fast DH section and for some stupid reason I grabbed front brake, next thing I know my dangly bits are staring right at my RF Dues Stem and my Sun Ringle RPM Lite is 90 degrees out of phase with my direction.  This can't be good and I am awaiting an embrace with mother earth.  My mind is asking her to be kind but I know she has evil intentions.  I wrench the Easton Carbon Bars back towards center, the bike makes a wicked hop but my momentum carries me down the trail instead of into the ground.  After a quick thank you to the heaven's, I am back in chase.  We start climbing and I find Allan again along with a bunch of other people on the intial slopes of the grind.  I would call this pre-grind where you are doing the really steep rollers.  I am passing a few people as they are off walking.  Somehow I end up in front of Allan again only to have him go by me when I get hung up by someone that decided to get off and walk right in front of me.  This would be the last time I see Allan as the grind takes its toll on me.  Finally I make it out of purgatory and I am spinning up towards the airport.  Whose the a'hole that turned on the fan?  Man that wind was killing me, its so bad that I am in granny climbing up the short section prior to the airport.  What a whimp I am!  We get within a mile of the finish and people start passing me as they are trying to sprint for home. Whatever?  I mean is 2nd to DFL better than DFL.

I come across the line to see all my teammates sitting and enjoying themselves.  I just want to die.

NVDC was alot of fun, too bad I just didn't have it today.  The good news is I feel my body is recovering from that cold from hell.  I still have a slight cough and the race really hurt but it was just good to be back on the bike racing.  Well if you call what I did racing.

Dave
22/26 (2:02)

 

 

I posted this to the Velo Bella list. (what'd you call it Mike, Velo Bueller? nice.) Thought I'd share. Was offered a clean TWW jersey by Kathleen, but declined so I could race in my dirty VB jersey, since I'm a dirty girl. Hence this picture, looking like a total dork:

in Matt's TWW album of TWW pictures from the race. For all you stoners out there (and I KNOW there's quite a few of you), take note of my race number.

Napa Valley Dirt Classic... at least this year is wasn't hot. But one of the puddles I rode through smelled pretty foul. Ewww.  

I hate this race. Actually I don't. Well, I think I do. I don't know, I'll let you all know next year when I whine and moan and complain and convince myself to do it again.

This race is ridiculously brutal. It's almost not worth it, but the singletrack is just so sweet. They should really call it the Napa Valley Climb Classic.

I showed up at the line and because I was on time (big smile), I got the rush of waiting for the whistle to go off and seeing my HR monitor read 150... while I was standing still. I looked at the field, knew many of the girls, and thought to myself, "oh crap, I'm going to come in last place." But, as these things go, the downhill technical is just as much a part of mountain bike racing as the climbing and I passed one of the girls in my field who had super bloody knees about 2/3 of the way through the race. I crashed at the race pretty bad last year and said to her "Don't worry, we all have our Napa Valley horror stories."

I rode with the beginner men for most of the race and realized that racing in Sport has the advantage that you don't start way in the back, so you usually don't have to ride alone all that much if you can hang with the people that catch up to you-- it makes racing all the more fun. As I crested the top of the big, lame ass climb, I nudged the guys to take off with me as a wheel would have been glorious relief. To no avail though and I powered out the last 2 miles on my own for a 6th place finish (out of 7) and another doozy of an improvement over last year's time-- 28 minutes faster (I completed S.Otter last weekend 35 minutes faster than the previous year). Woo hoo. And nailed all the technical sections and didn't crash this year, which is just as much of an accomplishment, since I'm still on my trusty ol' hardtail.

Will race Howell Mountain with joy, since it doesn't have that lame climb in it. Congrats to Jenny for her 2nd place finish!

cheers,
Mo.

 

 

I can't say I had exactly been looking forward to this race...memories of suffering the climb of previous years makes thinking about the awesome singletrack and descents bittersweet.
 
After a less than restful sleep, I woke up to find the sky dark with raindrops sprinkling the window.  I tried to convince Paul we should just stay under the warm covers and sleep in; no pre-registration, no commitment, right?  For a minute I thought he was in my corner, but NO!  We were going to race.
 
I was tired and discomboobilated as I started to warm up before the race, so my mind and body were on two different planets.  I now know this is the secret to having a blast at the NVDC, although the cool weather and trail conditions helped, too!!  I went back and forth with a few women throughout the race,  but tried to focus on riding up those steep climbs (cleared a lot more of them than last year) and staying off my brakes on the downhills.  I had a near miss at the end of the race- a guy riding next to me stood up and cramped, and fell sideways into my back wheel.  I was able to stay upright, and looked back to ask this poor guy writhing in pain if he was okay.  Was that a convulsion or a yes?  It finally dawned on me I was out there to race and had a woman not too far behind me, so I took his convulsion as a yes and headed past the airport, looking forward to the descent back down to the track.
 
So a thanks to my husband who got me out of bed to race, because I did have fun as well as my best finish of the NVDC thus far (2nd/11).
 
Jenny

 

 
It was 1995, my first ever mtb race, where my inexperience caused me to crash and fracture my skull. I decided that racing wasn't for me and I should stick to enjoying my bike. The following spring Glenn Wegner convinced me that the Napa Valley Dirt Classic course was so fun that I should go and just ride it like a ride. The course is on private property, usually not open to mountain biking. It was awesome!
Now 10 years later I found myself back there. I have been there many of the years in-between but this time I had company. Having promised my 15 year old that I would pay for him to race if he put in a good effort at the Sea Otter, I had to keep my promise. No reason for me not to race while there too. Jeff wanted Garrett (12 years old and not so into biking) and Mac (our newest addition to the family-from the beagle rescue) to come along too.
Saturday night at a Motel 6 in Fairfield was meant to give us a good night's rest but we didn't plan on a beagle in unfamiliar territory. Just as we were drifting off, Mac alerted us to the possibility of danger off somewhere outside. A sign of things to come! Patrick (who had avoided sharing the bed with his brother by sleeping on the floor under the window with the air conditioner/heater) had knocked the cover off the heater during one of his many tosses and turns. Mac, woken by the sound, sat on the bed continually growling at this invader...grrruuu.....grrruuu....grrruuu. I was finally forced out of bed to retrieve the object from a still sleeping Patrick and able to show Mac that the enemy was taken care of. It was the kind of night everyone hopes not to get just before a grueling race.
We got there way too early. As I registered Patrick and me, I realized I was in a different age category. As I showed it to Jeff, he said I should change it and race with the women I know, down one age category. I asked and they agreed. Good job!
The mice were coming in as were the Velo Bellas (Meredith) and fellow TWWers. Missing was Erin. The excuse I heard for her not showing was to lame to repeat.  Sorry Erin...    :)
My friend Walt (Walt introduced Berry Stevens to mountain biking and trailwork) came up to visit us. I had asked him to come see Patrick race and he was there. He has been a great friend for the boys and me over the years.
We were at the start line when Julie Brown (I can't remember that other name! ...Barrott) came up looking for her group. Turns out Paule didn't help her pay attention-she was in the original category I singed into. Their start would be 6 minutes later and there wouldn't be any of the women she usually raced with. As we with lined up with 2 minutes to go, I called out to the starter. I explained the situation and asked him if she could start with us. He called for her on the mic, had her come up and join us. It eventually caused some confusion in the scoring but made for a much better race for all.
Patrick started 2 minutes behind us. I wasn't really into racing but the course was fun. I spent the first half wondering if I should stop and wait for Patrick, then I could ride in with him. I had forgotten just how hard this course could be. Not everyone will understand the conflict going on inside me. Here I have taught this kid how to ride. He enjoys it, we both do. Our times riding together have been a special time for him to talk to me. Yet this course is so tough, I kept thinking "what if something bad should happen while he is on my watch?". Was he really ready for it? Then again, finishing on his own without mom hovering is important to helping him become an independent person. Really tough call. It's not always so easy being mom!
Once the serious climbing started I let go of the worry. For one thing, I have always climbed that heinous hill and even though I am not in racing shape, I didn't want that to be an excuse.
I made the hill, had two cramping calves and a good sprint at the finish. Coming across the finish line, Garrett and Walt were there with hugs. I, of course, let them both hold me upright as I stood there collecting my hugs!
No one at the finish line had any horror stories about crashing kids on the course so I figured with Patrick 30 minutes back, I'd take a quick shower. Imagine my surprise to come out of the building to see Patrick standing there with his bike. "You didn't finish the race?" He replied he had. "Did you cut the course"? No he replied. It took a while before I actually believed he had not only finished but he did much better than I expected. The results don't lie.

  

02:27:23 Patrick

02:15:31 Mom

Good job mom!!!!

:)

 

 

A little long, but with plenty of drama...
 
The last time I did this race was in '01 and for the life of me I couldn't remember exactly how the course went. Well, I know the course now, and it knows me.
 
And how could it not? It now has my water bottle, cyclo-computer, and several samples of my DNA in the form of skin and blood. Gory details? Here ya go:
 
Left San Jo at 6:30, arrived at the venue a little before 9, and ran into many TWW'rs: Mcrimmon (somehow I knew he'd be there) Franck, Hane, Henthorn, Loyd R, Kat M, Patrick, Sherlock and others. After a good warm-up I headed to the rider's meeting which never seemed to happen and lined up for the start, gridding in about the third row.
Off the uphill start, everyone bolted at a pace that I knew was too fast because before we even funneled into the singletrack people were slowing. Just before the singletrack I got around a small group and I saw that Sherlock and Hane were close by. On the way up to the hike-a-bike, Henthorn blasts by and I give chase. Onto the flats and Rich is on a tear, looking strong and pulling away. The pace hurts but I kick it up a notch and eventually catch a paceline that he's leading. At this point it was all about not getting left out in the cold without a pace line, then we hit the forest.
Into the rollers, alot of people were slowing down and I'm thinking "Get off the frikkin' brakes people!!"  Through the first set, Rich's skirt blows up over his eyes, momentarily slowing him, (sorry, I couldn't resist ;^ ) and I get around by taking an alternate line up the middle that no one is using because it looked scary. I gotta say, my FOX F100X* fork was just awesome on this course.
Into the downhill singletrack switchbacks I'm having stupid fun til I start getting held up. I enter a sharp right hander that has a bottleneck starting to form and I get a brilliant idea to take the far outside line to get around everyone. All is going well until I realize there are 2 guys completely stopped on said line so I unwittingly grab a handful of front brake. Over the bars I go. You see, the only mountain bike I've ridden in the last 4 months has been my single speed which has old Pauls Love Levers on it. On that bike I could grab a handful of brake and get away with it but not so on the Superlight. Anyway, I get back up and join the fray with blood streaming from my right knee. And leg. And ankle.
Back onto some straight doubletrack I go to check my computer and notice it's now gone. Damn!!
Somewhere in here I pass Loyd R. who offered words of encouragement that I couldn't return because I was out of breath. He was kickin' butt and I never knew he was in front of me! 
I got fairly lucky through most of the singletrack as the pack I was with were pretty decent bike handlers and those that weren't were being  cool about letting others by.
Every once in a while I'd look back and see another TWW jersey a few switchbacks back. I figured it was Sherlock comin' to get me, but wasn't sure. (Turns out it was Franck) It was definitely keeping me honest though, especially when we hit the Death March where we started to bunch up. Speaking of TWW jerseys, did I mention my spiffy TWW uniform made by Voler* was doing an exemplary job of wicking moisture away from my body?
 After a while I decided to stop looking back cause it was messing with my head and taking the focus off my lines.
OK, the Death March hurt but can I tell ya -- all those slightly uphill rollers that came after it absolutely stung!
I know others were feeling it too because I slowly started to pass guys I'd been chasing the whole race.
Back onto the flats about 1.5 miles from the finish I'm caught out without a paceline and getting bathed in a nice cold headwind. I put the power to my awesome RaceFace* cranks as efficiently as possible and hoped for the best.
No one passed me here and I actually got by a couple of people although I doubt they were in my class.
 Now I can hear the crowd yelling as I approach the hike-a-bike section which is now a steep little downhill section with "DANGER" signs all over it. Surely no one will try anything stupid here, what with all the warnings.
As I start to go down it I see about 5 guys taking the far righthand line with the guy in front kinda holding everyone up. No problem methinks, I'll just take that line on the left that has the slight little drop-off and swoop the inside, it'll be so cool!  Again I'm on the brakes and the next thing I know I'm OTB again, doing a Texas star, complete with serious hangtime, which would have netted perfect 10's had the spectators had scorecards. I landed with a thud at the bottom of the hill and felt my back bend into a very unnatural position as I hit.
Funny, when I was younger I'd bounce, now I just go THUD.
It was one of those crashes where you're asking yourself as it's happening "am I going to get up after this is all over?" I took quick inventory, got up and got my bike handed to me by a spectator who grabbed it from tumbling all the way down the hill on the other side of the trail. My bars were tweaked sideways and a brake lever was bent. My Easton EA50* stem survived the brutal blow with no problems. As I was gathering my wits, what was left of them, I watched about 6 guys go past me as I hoped none of them were in my division.
 I jumped on the bike and hammered to the track where I seemingly had a burst of adrenaline, maybe from the crash, I dunno.
 
After going through the finish chute, I slowly got off my bike and sat down as I watched Franck and Rich came in not too far behind me. Big mistake, because when I went to stand up 2 minutes later, I almost couldn't. My lower back was wrenched.  I reached for my water bottle to get a drink and noticed that it, like my computer, was now gone.
 After I got home other things started to hurt as well; as I sit here writing this I feel like I just went 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. I think if I'm gonna start racing mountain bikes again, I need to start riding them more because what happens is I start having too much fun, get too excited (especially in the technical stuff) and end up biffing my brains out.   
 
Anyway, the result was worth it: 4/31 with a time of 1:49.
Even with the crashes I'd do it again because this course is such a kick!  Well....maybe.
 
--Mike U.   * denotes shameless plug.

 

 

We must have received a lot more rain in Santa Cruz than Angwin on Saturday. When it finally stopped raining Saturday afternoon, I took a short test-ride in DeLaveaga. When I got home, I set-up my bike for a muddy race: angry knobby tires front and rear adorned with fenders. When BHam and I arrived in Angwin and started warming-up, I noticed that the ground was much dryer there. I removed the fenders but had to stick with my tires.

After one last trip to the boy's room, I arrived at the start line with about a minute to spare. After the initial paved climb, I'm doing OK and in the top 20 of the 3-or4-age-category Sport wave. We hit the 1st double track section and I start to move-up, passing Allan and settling in behind Urbina. Push the bike up the hike-a-bike and motor on to and past the airport. I catch Mike again and draft for a short time, then decide it's my turn and push past. Off the main road and on towards the Do-de-Whoops. I pick the middle line on the 1st one and start to hammer up, when my choice of tires bites me. Slipping on a few pedal strokes in a row is enough to stall towards the top. I dismount and push while Franck flies past - crap! I keep him in sight, about 6-8 riders back, until we get to the first uphill, twisty 1-track.

My race plan was to push hard at the beginning (if I felt good) in order to get to this uphill singletrack with guys who can actually ride well. I was feeling good and pushing the pace, so I thought the plan would actually pay off. Well, I must have arrived mired in the mid-pack of the 30-34 age group or something, because I was surprised and disappointed that these guys couldn't ride switchbacks at all. OK, if you can't ride them well, at least dismount and run through them, right? It's not that much slower and at least you don't stop. Alas, there are some that don't know their limitations. Finally reach the top, and hammer past those guys. Reach the next 1-track, stand on it and reel-in a small group that seems to be riding smooth. We come upon a switchback with rocks this time and, crap, the guy 2nd in line pulls the old "stall, stumble, lay-bike-across-trail" trick. OK, I dismount and cut past him and others. Jeez.

Have I mentioned how sweet the trail conditions were up to this point? Soft, tacky dirt, overcast skies, temp in the upper 50s. Perfect. My front wheel is tracking perfectly with the meaty Velociraptor, but the rear, with a narrow knobby, is a bit squirrely in the fast corners, but nothing major. I'll manage.

I start the descent into the valley and Franck is nowhere in sight. Oh well, I'm still feeling strong and plan to pick off riders during the climb-out. A SCCC rider that I recognize from CCCX, and who had some mechanical problem early on, goes past me. I know he's pretty fast, so I decide to hang with him as much as I can. Yee-haw! We're flying over the rollers and he's taking great lines down the sandy rutted descents. We pull away from anyone who is left behind us and hit the intro to the death march. I'm determined to ride all of this climb. It's painful, but I keep focusing on the next bend and succeed, passing a handful of guys in my category in the process.

I reach the flat fireroad just ahead of a group of five riders. I stay ahead of them for a while, but I know it's just a matter of time before they paceline up to me, so I decide to sit up, take some HammerGel, and paceline with them to the finish. We reach the little hill just before the airport and I realize I'm not where I want to be - I should be in front, not the back because I'm almost out of power. Yup, I stand on it but they pull away from me and I'm left alone for the final 2 miles.

I make it down the loose "danger" hill just fine, and notice Franck is just ahead at the final switchback. Even though he's not in my age group, I do what I can to try to catch him. It wasn't enough, as he finishes 15 seconds ahead. But I feel I had a good race.

I finished 8th in 1:52 and change. It would have been nice to duke-it out with that paceline to the finish. Maybe next time.

Good to see such a large turnout for TWW! Congrats to Jenny for taking the high score (from Urbina by just two points!). We had like 6 podium finishes. Including Lloyd in the Sport 30-34 group. That's awesome!

Hope to see a lot of you at 8Hr.

-Rich

 

 

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