San Francisco Grand Prix, 9-14-2003 

by Kurt Garin, The Bean Team

Have you ever ridden up an escalator in a mall and thanked Jesse Reno for inventing such a contraption to enable us to scale such heights in a under a minute, with no effort at all? Probably not. I never had before last Sunday, but I just might start.
I flew out to San Francisco with my teammates Cesar, Chad and Jake along with staff members Barbara and Kim on September 11. We arrived in San Francisco to the obviously labored, but smiling face of Jonny Sundt who had been at the Cliff Bar headquarters all morning, and was now on taxi duty. After he picked us up and dropped us off he went across the Bay to Oakland to pick up Jesse and Jeff. What a teammate and true renaissance man.After we checked into out hotel, Cesar, Chad and myself checked out a small cafe/lounge a few blocks down from our hotel, and found out why San 
Francisco is famous for it's food. I then retired to my room where I met Jake the mechanic, who was one of my roommates. Jonny was my other roommate. Jake and Jonny go way back. Jake is Jonny's cyclocross mechanic and friend. This weekend he was at our disposal. After we made introductions, he asked me if I had any problems with my bike. You have got 
to appreciate a proactive mechanic. A little sidebar: Jake, also looks just like Fred Durst, lead singer of the  band Limp Bizkit. I mean, he's a dead-ringer. Of course Jake is a good bit  skinnier than the chunky Durst, but could still pass has him if he wore a baggy long sleeve shirt or hoodie. This is too bad since Limp Bizkit is probably the worst band on the planet. I did not hold this against Jake. Friday morning I woke up and felt really excited to ride my bike for the first time in two days. I ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant out of ignorance of the area's other breakfast joints. After paying $6 for two blueberry pancakes, I would not return for the remainder of the trip. This incident did not put a dent in my excitement as I returned to the room where Jonny and I watched the Saved By the Bell movie. In this movie, Zack, Screech, Slater, and Kelly take a trip to Las Vegas, have an adventure, and at the end, Zack and Kelly get married. Jessie Spanno and even Mr. Belding were present for the wedding. The marriage was followed by an awesome music montage of Zack and Kelly's best moments from the show.

Anyway, the ride...This guy from Cliff Bar (sorry I for got your name) took us out on a ride over the Golden Gate Bridge to the town of Sausalito. On the other side of the bridge we saw Alexander Vinokourov out for a ride with the T-Mobile women's team. On the way back to the hotel we went up the two climbs on the course, Fillmore and Taylor Streets, and I got my first taste of the hell that I was in store for Sunday. Fillmore was steep. It was the same pitch as most escalators actually. It was four blocks long, and the last two were steep. I was running a 39x27 and I needed another gear if I planned to do the whole race. Taylor Street was easier. Only one block was at 25%. Saturday, after having nightmares about the race on Sunday, I decided to go to San Rafael with my teammates even though I wasn't doing the race. Instead I went out on my own to find a two-hour ride around Marin County. At a stoplight in town I caught up with local cyclist Frank P. (sorry I forgot your last name). He took me on the most beautiful 30-mile, out and back ride that I have ever been on. We stopped at this odd little store/concert venue where some other cyclists were taking a respite. They told us that Lance and the rest of the Postal team came by a bit earlier. Once we got back to San Rafael, Frank and I parted ways, and I watched my 
teammates finish up their race. Jeff Hopkins was under the weather so he dropped out early. The rest of the boys finished nicely in the pack and Jesse won the field sprint.

Sunday was the big day. I wasn't very nervous, just a bit unsure of myself. I haven't been racing much this season due to many reasons which I won't go into. Since school started about a month ago, I have only been riding about 12 hours per week. I knew that this could work for me, meaning that I would show up at the race rested, and ready to roll. I also knew that it could work against me, meaning I would show up at the race feeling flat, and ready to get dropped. So I was just a bit scared that my sketchy form would let me down.

Before the race my old riding buddy from Augusta who now lives in Fresno, Tom Fahey, showed up to wish me well. I told him that I wouldn't let him down, knowing that there was a 99.999% chance that I was lying. And after almost running into Simoni departing from the sign-in table, I was ready to race.The race started off with three, 1.3-mile circuits on The Embarcadero, and then headed out onto the main, 10.5-mile circuits which featured the Fillmore and Taylor Street climbs, and then concluded with four, 5-mile circuits that once again ascended Taylor Street. The course description would be of little consequence to me, however. The  start of the race was fast, and when we hit Fillmore Street for the first time I couldn't get my chain off the big ring. Finally I got it down before the climb got really steep, but I was off the back by about 50 yards (I 
would use meters, but we are in the United States. We don't use kilometers here either all you Euro wannabees...anyway). After swerving around about three separate incidents on my way back up to the back of the pack, I was able to latch back on. Over the top I was hanging on for dear life. At the top of Fillmore there is 100 yards of false flat that, if you are at the 
back, can be awfully painful even of the first lap. The front of the field is already blasting downhill at 1,780 miles per hour and you are cresting Fillmore at a touch over 1.8 miles per hour. So the elastic stretches and guys are spat out the back. I hung on until Taylor Street where I made it up the climb in contact, and watched my teammate Jake break his chain and come to a halt. The Mavic car stopped right in front of me, I went around it, and got back on to the back of the pack. Eric Wohlberg then came around me after having a problem, and started working his way back up. "How great it would be," I thought, "if I could do that right now."At at this moment of deep introspection those thoughts started entering my head. Thoughts like, "we haven't even made it a lap, and you are already playing catch up" and, "look at your heart rate you fool, is this really how 
you want to spend your Sunday, on the verge of a heart attack?" I actually think that I yelled, "NOOOOO," out loud. And then it was like I was having an outer-body experience. I was actually watching myself get dropped as if I was floating next to myself. Then, riding on The Embarcadero, only about 15 seconds back form the pack, I heard the crowd cheering and I thought, yeah, I think this is how I want to spend my Sunday, but it was too late. Then, as I was going up Fillmore Street with a Sportsbook.com rider, now a few minutes down, and the crowd was cheering for us so loudly that it made my ears ring, I thought, "yeah, this is definitely how I want to spend my Sunday." When I pulled out after three laps, I was both dejected, and elated. Dejected that I let myself get dropped like I did, but elated that I got to see how it feels to have so many people screaming for you that it takes your breath, and all of the pain in your legs away if not for just once in my life. That feeling 
made it all worth any sort of sadness that I felt seem small and meaningless.

I was able to feel happy with my day, even though I shattered all expectations about my performance, only in the negative sense, and let myself down, because I got that rare rush. Well, that feeling on top of the the fact that the nicest guy in the world, Cesar Grajales, my Jittery Joe's teammate was busy "riding like a man-possessed," as Phil Liggett says, and 
winning the King of the Mountains competition. So it was a great weekend for the Jittery Joe's/Kerley Ink team, and 
myself. We were able to win one of the biggest prizes in the race, and I got a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Thanks for sticking it out, and reading the whole thing, 

Kurt

Oh yeah, and Lance Armstrong was there. Yay.