2005 Mt. Diablo Challenge - Chapter 3

Who organizes this thing?
- by Alicia S.

If you have read Jeff’s entry about the Diablo Challenge, you will already know that being a volunteer for this race has some downsides. There are upsides, such as free Jamba Juice, but trust me, it’s not all fun.

I knew that this was Willis’s big race for the year, and supportive cycling girlfriend that I endeavor to be, I wanted to be there for him. And since they close the whole mountain down for the race, I also knew that working it was about the only way to see him cross the finish line. So I sent an email to the volunteer coordinator. She told me volunteers were always welcome, and that she’d put me town to “work the summit”. Groovy, I thought, it’s all set.

The logistics of race day were a little challenging. I was told I could park at the bottom (at the Athenian School) and get a ride to the top, but I’d need to be there early because the lot would be full by 6:30. Yes, a.m. I had absolutely no intention of being anywhere before 6:30am. So I decided to ride with Willis and Jeff from Willis’s mom’s house about 6 miles away. That way I could be in the biking spirit, plus not worry about parking. (Actually, I drove the car partway, because the Wong home is on top of a big hill. I thought maybe by the return trip, everybody would have had about enough of hills. This would prove to be a good call.)

We arrived at the race start about 40 minutes before the start. The guys took the opportunity to circle the parking lot and warm up, while I set out to figure out what I was supposed to do. First, it took a long time to find someone to drive me up the hill. At least three cars said they’d be “heading up soon”. Finally I got a ride from some very chatty gentleman who told me he used to ride the race until he got too old and fat. And offered me a muffin.

I finally arrived at “the summit”, only to find, again, no one who knew what was going on. Who was in charge? What needed to be done? There were several private groups setting up their booths, but no one seemed to know what to do with a volunteer. This would have been the time to keep my eyes peeled for others wearing the telltale “VOLUNTEER” T shirts, except that it was so chilly everyone was bundled in jackets. Finally I found the volunteer coordinator, who was having a minor meltdown over the location of the port-o-potties. She waved me in the direction of the guy with the timing equipment.

After another ten minutes of wandering around, I got a job. I was to keep track of the top winners in each category: top 3 men, women, mountain bikers, unicyclists, tandems, etc. I even got a clipboard. By this time, it was 8:30 and the top riders were only about ten minutes from the finish line. I took up my station and waited.

The very first riders came in with a time around 46 minutes. There was a dramatic sprint for the win as the leader got overtaken by #2 in just the last 20 punishingly steep feet of the race. Getting a primo view of that was probably the highlight of my volunteering experience. The rest was all work. And tough work, at that. Was #642 a man or a woman? I just couldn’t tell. Does a hybrid bike count as a mountain bike? And why doesn’t everybody have their number plainly out where it can be seen? Do I look psychic?

I kept my eyes peeled for Willis, and gave him a big cheer as he pumped across the line. There was not much time for congratulatory canoodling, though, because I had work to do. Finally the last unicyclists crossed the line, and my work was done. I met Willis and Jeff, who had by that time found Don, down in the party zone for snacks and swag. God bless Jamba Juice.

But then there was the problem of the descent. No one can head down the mountain until all the riders have made it up. They then release the cyclists in waves. And only after ALL the cyclists have gone can cars start heading down. This was a major pain in the ass. I’d scored a ride in the pace car for the trip down, but we didn’t even get to pull out until probably 40 minutes after Willis, Jeff and Don had headed down. And then, we had to crawl behind the sheriff, who was crawling behind the two slowest cyclists in history. Our speedometer literally read zero. Tensions began to rise. Finally, 20 minutes into this insanity, the sheriff’s van pulled up behind the offending bikers and told them to pull over and let us pass. (You wonder if they felt any pangs of guilt as 30+ cars sped by.) We all breathed a cranky sigh of relief.

Willis and Jeff practically had cobwebs growing over their bikes by the time I got to the bottom, and Don was no doubt wondering why we hadn’t met him at McDonalds as promised (mental note—cell phones might have been worth the weight). We were all hungry and tired, and I felt guilty for making everyone wait so long. However, we eventually got back to the car, and then into the shower, and then fed. And that was one of the best lunches ever.

So future notes: while it was fun to work the race and get to see all the riders finish, the logistics really discourage a person from wanting to volunteer twice. If I were to do this in the future, I’d have to find a way to have my bike at the top (a way which did not involve riding it there, because I am just not a hill climber) so I could ride down. But I’m glad I got to be there, and encourage Willis to his record breaking (sorta) time. But I’ll let him tell that story…