Trimble Racing

Launching the winning sprint. I held the field off with determination. Thanks to Andy for the shot

I won Tour of High Bridge with a secret weapon. It came in the form of almost uncontrollable anger focused so tightly into my riding that nobody even had a chance that day. My disgruntled details will be spared but I’ll describe the effects on a sprint that my skinny legs were not formally capable of.

I arrived at High Bridge mid day amidst soaring temperatures. The cat ½ race was well underway and damaged bodies and destroyed egos were already flooding the side of the road. Master hill climber Albert Pedemonte was already out of his race kit and swearing up and down that he was taking up bowling. Hard man Rufus was hanging in the pack with a look of disgust written all over his face. Nobody had their fresh face on, everyone was suffering, and my confidence was growing.

After registration I took a recon lap of the course and quickly developed a love/hate relationship with the course. A short wall (17% max according to my Garmin) started the 3.3 mile lap. It twisted to the right and leveled off just long enough to keep your lunch in before grinding upward and onwards. This led to a narrow, bumpy, alley way style run through a quaint neighborhood. The second half of the course was a rolling expedition through absolute stunning scenery. One more steep short climb with the words “YOU”VE JUST MADE A DEPOSIT IN THE PAIN BANK” scribbled on the tarmac kept the legs burning. After the final climb a fast twisting descent led to long rolling section that circled around to the mostly flat finish line.

Discussing pre race tatics with John Taki

The race was short and the field small. Neither factor made the race any easier as the course profile and ambient temperature provided the difficulty.

Lap 1: Pace was immediately hard but manageable. The field stayed together and stared each other down.

Lap 2: I didn’t recognize too many of my competitors so I conducted a little test. The test involved attacking hard up the wall and seeing who was made of what. I went red and pulled away from the field over the crest of climb 1. I was approaching oxygen debt but the pressure was kept on the pedals through the short recovery zone. Up the next climb I pushed hard again and increased my lead. Behind me the field was strung out but the kids weren’t giving up. Halfway down the bumpy alley I was in too much pain to continue alone so I eased up and blended back into the (somewhat smaller) pack. The pain deposit climb awarded everyone with another attack. This one seemed really strong as the Bianchi rider soon vanished around the next corner. I stayed at/near the front and helped keep the pack motivated with an un-relentless pace.

Lap 3: The wall gave the Bianchi rider a hard dose of reality and we swallowed him up and spit him out. On a level of 1 to 10 (where ten is when your head explodes) I was around 9. Everyone else appeared equally haggard. I brought along an extra water bottle and poured it over my head trying to lower my escalating core temperature. Nobody was brave enough to attack on this lap.

Lap 4 (final lap): I love kamikaze attacks. They provide entertainment and take the pressure off the real race. Needless to say one of the kids in the pack shot up the wall so blindingly fast that nobody even considered responding. The effort at the front of the field was fast enough and rose further level between the two climbs. On the base of the final climb we passed the would be escape artist who at this point had blown up and was barely pedaling. A few riders accelerated up the rise but no separation took place. The rolling run up to the finale was filled with position jockeying as a sprint finish was approaching. I focused on recovery and placed myself fourth wheel. Two teammates pulled the field to the final two corners at break neck speed. As soon as I recovered a bit I felt the urge to go. I quieted the twitching muscle fibers in my legs and focused on the perfect time to launch.

Timing is developed through experience and for once I nailed it to perfection. I launched mid apex around the final bend with a huge acceleration (by my standards). The finish line was an awful far way (over a quarter mile) off but my grinding teeth and near exploding heart allowed me to instantly open up a gap. The winning acceleration came out of the pack at 30 mph. I instantly hit 37mph and held that speed the entire way across the line. I was foaming mad and barrier after barrier where I normally slow down were being shattered. I glanced back once surprised by my lead. I glanced back again but didn’t lose a single mph and realized I had a chance. I glanced back a third and final time right before the finish line with the front of the pack nipping at my heels. I ended the race with a bike length over second. This being my first road win was hugely liberating but I experienced no wave of euphoria. I was in complete and total oxygen debt and couldn’t regain my breath for almost five minutes after the race was finished. I instantly headed for river and jumped in to regain control of my over heated body.

Up the wall on lap 2

following the old school rider at the base of the wall

John Taki suffering

Dangerous course but the field was small. Surprisingly nobody stacked it the entire distance.

Attacking on lap 2

The “PAIN BANK” climb

Down but not out. This was John Taki’s first road race. Talking about jumping off the deep end.

Valiant effort but the course was too hard to stay away

Toping off the wall on the last lap

My face twisted in pain (somehow I appear to be smiling)

I made sure to help keep the pace hard on the last lap

I agree.

Racing in 100 degree weather has its rewards