Modesto was my first P12 sanctioned road race in over a year as I have been benched with injury rehab. Bike racing, cooking meth and waiting to die are the top three things to do in California’s lovely Central Valley and I was glad be there racing my bike.
The course was pancake flat, exposed to central valley wind and with only a few 90 degree turns to challenge the field. The P12s were doing eight, 9 mile laps.
Chuck Hutcheson, Dustin Hahn and I were racing with the goal of getting Chuck in a late-race move. Dustin and I worked the front as much as we could by keeping pace and reeling-in attacks. With two laps to go, Chuck and Phil Mooney (Jamis) bridged to another move of two up the road. I looked at Dustin and said, “ok, we’re done” and slinked to midpack.
A few miles later, a BOMB was dropped in the middle of the field in the form of amotorcycle referee stopped on the side of the course. The field rear-ended the moto at 30 miles-miles-hour. Bikes and bodies flew everywhere, dudes were screaming for their mommies and time slowed down. It was a war zone. The field wasn’t neutralized, but the momentum of the chase was taken out for good.
This disruption was enough to secure Chuck’s break and he sprinted for 3rd. He won five whole dollars! Just enough to afford one gallon of gas to drive the fuck out of Modesto.