By Travis T -- Chico Stage Race - Paskenta Hills RR (P/1/2) -- 06/26/10

I was looking forward to Chico Stage Race. Chico is my hometown, my legs were showing promise, my girlfriend and Mom were there for support, I had team mates going.....I was seriously considering a podium result. I drove up the night before, and the weather was saying 99 degrees. I tried to prehydrate as best as possible, and the heat smelled and felt really nice.
Morning of stage one we drove to Paskenta for the 90 mile Road Race. It was hot, but not too bad. I got in a little warm up, and Mark and I helped Menso and Ethan when they showed up at the last minute. We had a rough little game plan, and I think the Clover team may have been the only team with as many represented. It appeared they were working for a gentleman in a Specialized kit that people were pointing at and mumbling about. This guy was supposed to be the guy to watch. I made a mental note, he wasn't going anywhere without a Metromint escort!
The race started like any other. A brief easy rollout, with a fairly early series of attacks, mostly by Clover guys who looked like pure sprinters. They would attack, get a gap, then look back to the Specialized guy, who would nod or shake his head. This continued for a while until a small break established itself, clearly visible dangling about 30 seconds ahead. Mark was in the break and the Specialized dude was in the main pack, so I stayed in, waiting patiently. After about 25 miles, Menso decided to bridge to the break, bringing Specialized guy with him. As they joined the breakaway, they dropped a couple guys, including Mark, and the now 3 man break (Menso, Specialized, and a Davis guy) started to get smaller and smaller in the distance.
I kicked myself for not being proactive like Menso. My duty now was to sit in and not work,and maybe subtly disrupt chase attempts, ensuring Menso's podium. This was my punishment for being a conservative racer. Sometimes it's hard letting a breakaway go to ensure you're team mates success, but it was the right thing to do. I vowed to try my breakaways earlier in my next races, it seemed to be working for Menso.
We hit the first gravel section hard, and after 45 miles, half the field had dropped out. Whew, it was hot, and I was sucking down bottles and grabbing them at every feed zone I could. One of the Sierra Nevada guys was doing most of the work on the front, trying desperately to minimize the gap, and finally Ethan suggested we help, otherwise the GC gap would just get too big. So Ethan and Sierra Nevada did most of the work, I chipped in a little, still trying to conserve energy in case we caught them, I was to be the next one to breakaway. But, the gap continued to grow, and the rest of our 7 man chase group didn't seem to want to work.
With about 25 miles left, People started to argue. I told Ethan our chase seemed doomed, and that one of us should try to bridge. "I'm not feeling too good. This heat is getting to me" he said. Alright. I told him I would attack and try to bridge or at least put time in everybody else when we hit 10 miles to go.
Whew, all of a sudden I didn't feel good either. I was out of water and starting to feel weird. I decided to go back to the follow car for a water bottle, but the moment I waved my water bottle in the air, a guy from Davis attacked. I chased back on but was thirsty and pissed. I snuck back through the pack, trying to sneak a bottle before Davis noticed, but the follow car slowed down even more, and by the time I grabbed a bottle and looked up, they had attacked and gotten a good gap on Ethan and I. We worked together to try to get back on, but I started to fall off Ethan's wheel. I was crumbling. The heat was ruining me. I was dropped, and after watching Ethan chase up the road for a while, I was finally completely alone.
I slowed way down. I felt rotten. As far as I could see ahead and behind me, empty open road. Man, I wish somebody would come along with some water. I'm about to have a heat stroke or somethin here! I pressed on, not knowing the rest of the dropped field were relaxing in the shade or river. Nobody came from ahead or behind me. I started worrying about my safety. If I passed out there was nobody here. I guess training in the morning fog in SF doesn't prepare you for this kind of racing.
"Pssssss." That was my rear tubular going flat. I pulled over and looked up and down the empty road. Apparently everybody was hiding in the shade back at the finish line. I thought about hiding in the shade under a little bridge, but there was too much barbed wire. I said some nasty cuss words and got back on my bike.
After riding for a while I came to the 4 mile gravel section, and kept riding. I was talking out loud, and it was a kind of funny swear peppered motivational jibberish. "Keep riding you stupid #*$(@&, you deserve this you weak son of a $%$%^&#!"
Finally I got to the finish line. I mumble/yelled some sort of nonsensical swearities at anybody who resembled a person and grabbed two water bottles and stumbled into the river. I sat down and laughed with friends and talked about what a great time we were having.