It was our third week in California. I had raced surprisingly well on July 19th, but then I got the flu, and had to miss a week. So, a few days before we were due to leave, Amy and I packed my bike and the dog into the car and drove down to San Jose from Palo Alto, for my second night of racing at
Hellyer Velodrome.
I was, as usual,
incredibly nervous, to the extent that I was hoping that some catastrophe would prevent us from getting there. They have earthquakes in California, don’t they?? In the car, on the way to races, I’m usually sullen and silent, pre-occupied and miserable. Once I’ve actually raced I’m usually elated, particularly if I’ve done well, but till then I’m a nervous wreck. I have no idea why I get that way. I would love to know if other racers get as nervous as I do.
On this night, however, my nervousness was replaced by excitement earlier than usual, because when we got to the track I saw a motor-pacer, and realised we would be racing keirin!
I’d never raced in a keirin before. Basically, a keirin race is where the riders are paced around the track for a set number of laps by a (usually fat) man on a small motorbike, who pulls off the track with a lap and a half to go, leaving the racers a short, fast sprint to the line. It’s hectic, and the winner is usually decided by a very small margin. It’s huge in Japan, where keirin racers are like human greyhounds, and where betting on the races is a massive business, the tax on which funds the local schools. (Hey, America! I have a plan to save public education! It involves lots and lots of velodromes and
NJS bikes!)
So anyway, I was very excited. Amy took Dorothea for a walk in the park, and I took myself and my bike down into the infield to set up. As I mentioned before, I was riding my street fixed-gear, because I hadn’t brought the
Concept with me. I changed the pedals and the cog. I took off the camo top tube pad. I removed the spokecards. It went from fashion bike to track bike in about 5 minutes. I raced in the C group again.
First race. Six racers. We were held on the line. The motorpacer moved past. The whistle sounded. We started, and moved down the track to get in a line behind the pacer. I found myself in second last place, behind some riders from Montano Velo (a few of whom, it turns out, Josh knows.) Each lap, the pacer increased speed until, with a lap and a half to go, he pulled off the track and we went for it. I have no memory at all of what happened. I came second, but I don’t know how. I think the pacer had said he would bring us up to 30mph, so the sprint must have been pretty fast, but I think I was so excited that I blacked out or something.
Second race. Six racers again. I started on the outside, against the rail. When the pacer came by and the whistle sounded, I was a little slow in starting, and found myself in last place. Actually, I was pretty happy. Not having to worry about someone behind you allows you to relax a little bit. I sat in and drafted the field, thinking about what I would do. I decided I would just feckin' go for it when the pacer pulled off. After four and a half laps the pacer pulled off the track, and the sprint began. Maybe actual keirin racers don’t sprint with a full lap and half to go and instead leave it to the last minute to really drop the hammer, but all I knew was that we were all going for it! Into turn three, and I got past the racers directly ahead of me, going around them on the outside until I found myself in front as we came out of turn four and approached the line. With a full lap to go, I just put the head down and went for it. Someone grabbed my wheel, and by the time we exited turn two we had opened up a gap on the other riders. I felt good, but I knew I would tire before the line, so I was just hoping the guy on my wheel would too. As we went into turn three of the last lap, I could feel him right behind me, and I knew he was getting ready to make a move.
Coming out of the final turn of the final lap, I'm in front, gritting my teeth and expecting him to make a move. Photo by
Jason at
Montano Velo.
I pushed hard, spinning like crazy. I could feel my heart in my throat. I was trying to sense him move around me on the outside, but coming out of turn four, and with the finish line in sight, he hadn’t yet made his move. Into the straight, and I felt him ease off a bit. I had won. I couldn’t believe it.
As usual, having done well I wanted to call it a night. What a feckin’ baby, wha’? But, there were other races to do. Third race. Another keirin. I don’t remember a thing about this race, except that I started in the middle of the line, and came third.
Then a ten lap scratch, with eleven racers. I was dead tired, and could only manage to come fifth. I didn’t care. I was saving myself for the miss’n’out. But, I made a pig’s mickey of the that, when I forgot that they were pulling two racers per lap and not one, and got pulled after only a few laps. Eejit!
Anyway, I had done better than I had any business doing, and I was delighted. I came 4th in the omnium. Amy had videoed my second keirin race, so I watched that as I calmed down (I’ll post the video soon) and then we packed up my stuff and the doggie, and headed back to Palo Alto. We got lost on the way back, and feared for our lives at one point when we found ourselves driving vertically up a mountain in the dark, but we made it back eventually.
All in all, I had a blast racing at Hellyer those two weeks. I missed having friends and team-mates to race with, but the weather was lovely, the park was beautiful, the velodrome was nice, the riders were friendly, and the races were a ton of fun.
