Austin Tri-Cyclist Blog

Thursday, April 30, 2015

2015 Fayetteville Stage Race, W123 Race Report

Fayetteville Stage Race Day 2, Photo by Ino Sofjan
by Marla Briley

As I am writing up this race report the theme from the The Lego Movie keeps running through my

Everything is awesome
Everything is cool when you're part of a team
Everything is awesome
When we're living our dream

Those lyrics sum up this weekend of racing with my truly awesome teammates as we live the dream of racing our bikes.

Saturday morning the team woke to Armageddon outside. The never trusty weather reports had predicted storms would be passing through around 4 a.m. They must have stopped in Austin for a breakfast taco because they didn’t reach Fayetteville till 6 a.m.  The rain was coming down in sheets; the lighting would have been beautiful if I hadn’t been picturing myself having to ride my bike in it.

We kept checking the race Facebook page for updates, but there was total radio silence. Finally, Christie, never shy, found the race director’s number and called him. There was a 30-minute delay to the start of racing. Looking at the WeatherBug radar, I could see this was the first of many storm cells that were stomping their way across our location, so I didn’t think 30 minutes would make much of a difference.

GC podium - Mina, Marla, Allison
We load up our bikes, wading through the lake that had been the driveway, and head out into the storm. I have to pause here in my report and comment on a 24-hour bike race that had started at 7 p.m. the previous day. I was certain that all of the racers would have been scooped up and driven to safety, but as we traverse the windy roads toward town, barely able to make out what is in front of us, I see a light as bright as a train headlight heading our way. One of the 24-hour riders is still on the road. All I can think is “Lunatic.”

We arrive at the staging area to find there is another 30-minute delay. We set up our bikes under cover and wait as the cells move over us, leaving us clear one moment and then in a torrential downpour the next. Finally, after two hours of delays we are told the first stage will be cancelled. I do a happy dance. We are just about to roll back to our cars when the sun pops out and the race official tells us we’re on again. Geesh, they’re worse than a woman trying to decide what shoes to wear to a party.

We line up without further ado and off we go. The roads are still wet, but the sun is out so it’s like we’re riding through a sauna.

Sadly, the women’s field this year was the smallest I have ever seen it. ATC Racing made up over half the field. Because of this we plan to attack in pairs and wear out the other girls, saving Mina and Allison for an end-of-race attack. One of the nice things about women’s racing is you pretty much know everyone and you know their strengths and weaknesses. We’re fairly certain no one can challenge Mina or Allison on the time trial except for the one unknown Cat1 rider from Vermont. We’re about five miles in when we hit the biggest hill, which would be the KOM the next day, on the course. Right after we crest the hill, I launch an attack. Missy was supposed to be my wingman, but I don’t do a good job of communicating my intent and I leave her behind.

About 10 seconds later she catches up to me, but so does the rest of the pack. That’s okay. We have 29 more miles to practice the “Attack with Wingman.” About half a mile down the road we turn into the wind. I gleefully launch again, once again leaving without Missy. (I’m not very good at this “Attack with Wingman” stuff.) All I keep thinking is, “C’mon, Ms. Vermont, chase me down.” But she doesn’t, and neither does anyone else for that matter. My teammates are setting a false tempo at the front and covering attacks, so for the next 28 miles it’s me and the 99 Bottles of Beer song running through my head. I don’t even have a working Garmin, so I have no idea how far I am into this TT effort until I hit the hotspot at mile 23, with just 11 more miles to go. I have never been so happy to see the 2K sign in my life. I rolled into the finish, solo, with a three-minute gap on the field. The rest of the race finished in a field sprint with Mina taking the sprint and Anne coming in second. ATC now sat at 1, 2, 3 in GC.

After the race it’s off the bike and back to the house we have rented for the weekend. Now is the time that I give a shout-out to one of the best places to stay in Fayetteville, The Wild Rose Cottage. It is located at mile 9 on the bike course, so nine miles out from town. The accommodations are great, though we did see more than one spider in the house. Eek! The owners made an amazing breakfast for us, getting up at 3 a.m. Saturday morning to make us sausage, bacon, eggs, skillet potatoes, and biscuits, all ready by 6 a.m. It is the second year we have stayed here, and it is the perfect place to chill out after the races.

Due to all the delays earlier that morning, the TT had been pushed back, for us, from a 4 p.m. start to around 6 p.m. That gave us about five hours to eat, rest our legs, and then load up our TT bikes and head back into town. Our team is unique among other bike racers in that almost all of us have time trial bikes. It may be because half of us come from triathlon backgrounds where we call them “triathlon bikes.” Thanks to ATC for my beautiful P3, TriRig for my super aero front brake, and my boyfriend for this year’s birthday gift of a disc wheel, my bike was fast even if I wasn’t.  My legs were pretty toasted from my earlier effort, and my watts were nowhere near what my coach and I had planned, but thanks to the tech doping, I was still able to pull out the third best effort behind my teammates Allison and Mina. Once again we were 1, 2, 3 in GC. After the TT, Allison moved up to third place and Mina and I were still firmly in first and second.

Sunday our group would not go off till 11 a.m. So we slept in a bit…..6:30 this time….and slowly started our day with another homemade breakfast of sausage, bacon, and fluffy French toast sprinkled with bananas, nuts, and strawberries. Most of my team is gluten free, but even those gluten nay-sayers could not say “no” to vanilla syrup and French toast. Our bellies full, we loaded our bikes, packed our suitcases, and said “goodbye” to the Wild Rose Cottage.

Since we held the top three spots in GC, all we really needed to do during the last stage was control the field and keep the tempo high enough to dissuade attacks but not so high that I’d get shelled. My legs were still pretty tired from the previous day’s efforts. I actually have a terrible time with cramping at the end of races. This road race was only 50 miles, but the temperature was predicted to be in the high 80s with high humidity. The perfect combination for cramping.

If you were one of the other riders in our race you would have said not much happened, but I can tell you there was quite a bit of teamwork going on. Missy was designated wheel bearer for Mina and Allison since they all ride 11 speeds. If one of them flatted, then Missy would either give them her wheel, or if a wheel change was quick from the car, she would help them back to the pack. Chelsea was my wheel girl and my babysitter. Allison and Christie sat on the front most of the race, keeping the tempo high. The only time where I felt like I wanted to let the pack go was when they were driving the pace. I had to ask Chelsea to tell them to slow it down. Mina was like our cattle dog keeping the pack together. If someone tried to attack, she’d go get them and literally herd them back to the group. Anne sat at the back, and between her help and Chelsea’s, I was never in the wind. Allison really wanted to attack the pack in hopes of getting the stage win. She could have and I have no doubt she would have eventually gotten away, but she would have ripped my legs off in the process.  We agreed, with 2K to go, she should take off. I had three minutes on the other girls, and I was fairly certain I would not lose three minutes in the last 2K.  Allison took off, and the group sluggishly started the chase. I held on, but after she got caught, she attacked again and my right hamstring decided it had had enough and cramped. I limped in, taking last place for the day but still first in GC. We didn’t sweep the podium on the second stage, but we did remain 1, 2, 3 for GC.

It was great to get to spend the weekend with my team. I think we learned quite a bit about each other: like who is not a morning person, who is afraid of spiders, and who brings a stuffed animal with her when she travels. My team took care of me this weekend, whether it was making sure I was safely in the pack, reminding me to take my salt tabs, chasing down attacks, or overall controlling the race. Every time I race with this team, I remember why I switched from an individual sport where I relied only on me to a sport where we share in the work but also in the glory.

Specs on Marla's breakaway companion:
Her name? BOLT

  • 2012 48cm Team S5 frame and fork
  • 2010 Zipp 404 clinchers (aluminum rim)
  • Continental 4000s II tires
  • Shimano Ultegra 10 spd (11-28) gruppo 
  • 165mm Quarq Elsa crankset
  • Rotor chainrings (52-36)
  • 3T aluminum stem 
  • Ergonova bars
  • SpeedPlay Zero pedals
  • Serfas Carma seat
  • ATC bar tape
  • Care and feeding by the fast and friendly staff at Austin Tri-Cyclist!

Thursday, April 23, 2015

New Arrivals in Runwear at ATC

Running is hard. Make the experience more comfortable (and fashionable) head to toe. Along with all your old favorites, check out these new additions to ATC’s run store inventory.

Nothing says cool and cozy like an armadillo. Lightweight and fun, three options from BOCO keep the sun out of your eyes while expressing a little ATC personality: the ATC tri hat, technical trucker, and 360 visor.

Don’t forget to slide on some shades while you’re at it, like the lightweight (24 grams) and durable Tifosi Hagens.

New, surf-style run shorts are on the racks at ATC—the Zoot Run 101 Shorts (8-inch and 6-inch). They’re lightweight and cool, with a hip panel that allows for maximum range of motion.

Try ATC’s huge inventory of running shoes on for size. Brands include Altra Running, Asics, Hoka, Newton Running, ON, Pearl Izumi, Saucony, and Zoot. These models are just in: the ultra-comfortable Zoot Del Mar (men’s and women’s) and the award-winning Saucony Triumph ISO (men’s and women’s).

Many athletes swear by Swiftwick socks. The ASPIRE line is in stock (4-inch and Zero)—thin and light, they’re great with minimalist running or cycling shoes, and there’s no annoying toe seam.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

On Being a Filmmaker, Secret Agent, and Cyclist: An Interview with Marc Strong

By Kat Hunter

Strong at the Driveway
Photo by Scott Strance Photography
Back in the day you'd have to work for ESPN to have an onboard camera, Marc Strong tells me. In the early nineties, he raced on a regional junior development team in the Midwest, a skinny teenager with shaved legs. He remembers a great aunt, not one to mince words, asking him why he didn't do a “real” sport like golf. At the time, for the uninitiated the true nature of bike racing was an unknown, the peloton a windowless and clandestine bubble of the lycra-clad.

“I think I've always wanted to make cycling cool, so for me the Driveway promos are a way to give non-cyclists a glimpse of that,” Strong says.

Using hundreds of hours of footage from bike-mounted GoPros and Canon DSLR's, Strong has been stitching together short, vivid video montages of Austin's Driveway crit series since 2012. The videos capture the excitement of racing and the fierceness of competition—the pain faces, the elbows, the speed, the hands in the air for victory. They're also a highlight reel of cycling's beauty and romance. In Strong's shots you see the incredible symmetry of a peloton in motion, or bikes backlit against the last light of the day; you feel the unmistakable spirit of camaraderie and community. Different angles and vantage points explore the scene from the minutia of handlebars and safety pins to the final melee of the sprint.

Some of Strong's cycling videos have a specific theme: in 2014, for example, Strong featured women's racing at the Driveway, and he produced a promotional video for cycling lawyer Brad Houston. The most well-known of his cycling projects, however, are the annual, Castelli-sponsored Driveway "trailers"—quick-cut, get-you-worked-up videos that come out in the off-season to promote the coming year, acting like a spring thaw on the blood and the legs.

Riding in 2015 for Waterloo Racing, Strong is one of the Driveway faithful, referring to the weekly Thursday-night series as "cheap therapy." As a time-limited father of four (ages 3 to 10) and small-business owner, Strong likes the short format of the crits and the convenience of the East Austin location. The Driveway's diverse racing community runs the gambit from leaned-out pros to middle-aged nine-to-fivers and college students, and Strong is an example of the unique talent pool that community represents—talents which extend far beyond riding ability. Some riders, like Strong, lend their professional skills to the sport as a kind of ancillary passion. Strong's company, Wienot Films, largely focuses on whiteboard "explainer" videos and corporate advertisements; live-action cycling videos aren't Strong's bread and butter, but they’re what he loves best.

Junior Racer Goes Rogue
Strong racing up Signal Hill in 1995,
his father running behind him. 
Strong trained at an elite level from roughly age 15 to 19, racing at national events across the U.S. During his last semester of high school, he convinced his P.E. teacher and the school principal to allow him to pursue a cycling-based "independent study," which basically amounted to leaving school two hours early every day to train.

After graduating from high school and enrolling at Brigham Young University, Strong continued racing for about a year, but then he took a different track. He went on a two-year volunteer church mission to Australia. By the time he returned home to continue his studies, friends he'd raced with as a junior were pursuing careers as domestic pros. Most were unpaid, considering themselves lucky if their teams covered travel costs, and they spent the majority of the year on the road. If a rider wasn't Tour-de-France quality, that's what he was looking at. This struck Strong as a difficult and lonely life. He downgraded from a cat 2 to a cat 3, the "sweet spot" where he could still participate in the sport without being in prime fitness. Still in love with racing, however, he helped to found the BYU cycling team. Later he went on to grad school at Johns Hopkins University and was a part of their conference championship team time trial team.

During my interview with him, Strong makes several references to how he used to work for the “government,” but we talk for more than an hour before I ask him which branch. I'd assumed it was some innocuous facet of the vast bureaucratic system—city waterworks, parks, maybe healthcare—so when he explains he used to be an intelligence analyst for the CIA, I ask him twice whether he's joking.

Strong assures me he's not, nor is his former career confidential (though he does still have to get special permission to put it on his resume). He worked for the CIA for a total of seven years.

This "government" job was Strong's unexpected and unusual segue into filmmaking. His background was in political science, international relations, and economics, and while he lacked formal education in film or illustration, he had a knack for and an interest in both. To explain a new technology, he created a simple whiteboard-style presentation video using his kids' whiteboard and a small, consumer-grade Canon Powershot. Soon he found himself being asked to do more.

"You break into it, and you're the guy doing it, and then all of a sudden it's like, 'hey, can you make another one for us?'" Strong says. "So I just started becoming known for that."

He took classes and learned through experimentation, eventually setting up a side business making films. His job responsibilities as an analyst—in essence, to sift through vast quantities of information and present it to time-pressed policymakers in a clear and concise way—were very similar to what was required in making explainer videos about a confusing product or concept. But the video presentations also gave him an opportunity to set his left brain aside; he was still explaining things, but with a visual narrative spun from creativity and intuition as much as hard facts.

When visiting his parents one Christmas, Strong thought about how much he loved making films and wanted to do it full time, even though he already had a great job. At one point, his mother said, "Why not?" That was the genesis for the name Wienot Films, and in 2012, Strong transformed his part-time hobby into a full-time career, working out of his home in Austin. The venture involved a lot of unknowns, but every bike racer worth his or her salt knows the value of a good gamble.

Elbow Grease & a Marker
What is Sylectus
Whiteboard animation was Strong's answer to the self-posed question, "What can I do better than most people?" It would be the specialty that set Wienot Films apart, though Strong also creates computer animation and live-action video for many clients.

At first, the company was a one-man operation, but with increasing success and interest, Strong was soon building a carefully chosen and highly qualified team of voiceover artists, illustrators, animators, composers, and writers. (One of his writers, Jon Bernstein, wrote the Disney feature film Meet the Robinsons.)

Wienot Films' explainer videos turn complex content into plain and entertaining English—they might be a homepage video, explaining what a company does or why you'd want to work for them, or a presentation that covers a complicated topic in a much more engaging way than the traditional souped-up Powerpoint. Clients range from startups to large corporations like Canon or Cisco. A recent project for the Gatorade Sport Science Institute was right up Strong's alley: the series of presentations centered around carbohydrates, protein, and hydration, most using the analogy of a race car (e.g., the engine standing in for muscle, the coolant for needed fluids).

“Metaphors are more fun, and they stick with your brain a lot better than direct content,” Strong says. Wienot Films is in the business of storytelling.

In speaking with Strong, you get the sense that his company is like another child: well tended, a source of great pride. He quotes Leonardo daVinci in saying, “Art is never finished, only abandoned,” but his products are as close to perfect as he can muster. Strong says he's always heavily involved in making sure a given project is up to snuff.

Tandem Law Firm
The end result may make the process look easy, but countless hours go into even the smallest details. The beauty of whiteboard animation is that it seems informal and approachable, but the reality is a medium that's remarkably unforgiving. Each image is hand-drawn with fickle markers on a slippery board on which it's all too easy to erase with a stray sleeve or new mark. Live-action video is its own can of worms, as well, especially when the focus is cycling. Out at the Driveway, Strong films pelotons moving 30-plus miles per hour in less-than-ideal light. And like the proverbial needle in the haystack, the most crucial, unforgettable seconds of action must be plucked from hours and hours of race footage.    

Now that he works for himself, Strong says he actually rides less. His schedule is more flexible, which makes fair-weather riding easier, but he spends more total time on the job. This doesn't prevent him from being at the Driveway nearly every Thursday, however—still (happily) a cat 3, he often races the 3/4, P123, and masters fields—or from considering himself an avid cyclist. Last October he won the 3/4 race with a surprising (even to himself) multi-lap solo break. Knowing that his kids got to see him made the victory all the more sweet, he says.

Though certainly not as fit as he used to be, Strong says the skill set never really leaves you once you've given it years of study. For him, cycling is a workout, a pastime, an addiction of sorts. But perhaps all of this is best explained in a simpler, visual form? Watch Strong's videos, and you'll get an idea of what it's all about…

2015 Driveway Series Teaser from Wienot Films on Vimeo.

Driveway Series Trailer 2014 from Wienot Films on Vimeo.

Driveway Series Trailer 2013 from Wienot Films on Vimeo.

Driveway Series Trailer 2012 from Wienot Films on Vimeo.

More cycling videos on YouTube

More whiteboard animation on YouTube

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Race Report, 2015 San Dimas Stage Race - March 27-29

By Kat Hunter, Visit Dallas Cycling p/b Noise4Good
Race photos by Jason Neben

Other riders in Texas called me “the triathlete” for my first one or two years of racing on the road. At the time I thought they’d misunderstood just how brief my experience with tri really was, or were basing the judgment on sock height. I realize now, however, that I could have earned it purely by riding style. On the front, off the front, to the side, dangling on the back—if there was a way for me to be in the wind, I’d find it.
Anna Grace Christiansen celebrating the win.

This year I’m racing in a setting where my competitors have just as much horsepower or significantly more than me. I’m learning a new bit of vocabulary in the national pro races, a synonym for non-drafting: It’s called “dropped.”

Bike racing is more lived than learned. Riding in a pack is fluid and instinctive, like a language, and to speak that language you have to immerse yourself in it. If you just focus on the things that you’re comfortable with or naturally good at, whether that’s crit racing or time trialing or road racing, eventually you’ll find yourself in a situation where you’re asked to be a complete rider and you come up lacking. And even if you do manage to be successful, if you’re honest with yourself you'll always wonder how much more you could have done if you’d done it right.

This year is a crash course for me—no pun intended, and knock on wood—in the skills I should have picked up a long time ago. (I mean, come on, what more can you ask for when the Driveway Series is practically in your backyard?) I also intend for it to be my final season of bike racing. Here’s hoping, now that I’ve buckled down, that I’m a quick study.

Time Trial: 
Amber Neben with hand cyclist Jenna Rollman. Dare to Be Project.
The San Dimas Stage Race opens with a twisting, 4.25-mile hill climb through Angeles National Forest. Riders are on road bikes (some with aero helmets), and most women finish between 17 to 20 minutes. It’s a steady grind, gaining 1,257 feet in elevation over numerous switchbacks.

I’m a pseudo-climber and pseudo-TTer, so I was expected to do well. I finished 17th in the stage at 19:06. The effort was in line with the lower range of my power goal, but even as I crossed the line huffing and puffing I had the sense that I could have gone harder. Regardless of finishing place, in a TT you just want to know that you left nothing on the table. At San Dimas on the descent back to the start you should feel like Pac-Man gathering up the pieces of your soul you left behind on the way up.

It was a great day for the team, though—Amber Neben was in the yellow jersey with a finishing time of 17:15, roughly 30 seconds ahead of Team Optum p/b Kelly Benefit’s Brianna Walle. And my teammates Flavia Oliveira and Anna Sanders placed seventh and eighth.

Later that night, however, we had a very unexpected and unwelcome surprise. On our way to dinner, Amber called. She’d broken her little toe while unloading the car. The injury changed everything and nothing. Amber was still determined to ride, but it made our job as her teammates all that more important.

Road Race:  
At San Dimas, the hot spot sprints can make a significant difference in GC: there’s three of them, with three seconds each for first, plus ten seconds for first place at the finish. The P123 women complete eight laps of the course for a total of 56 miles, with the hot spot sprints for the time bonuses and sprinter’s jersey on laps 3, 5, and 7, and QOM points for the climber’s jersey up for grabs on laps 2, 4, and 6. The course is twisty, bumpy, and narrow in spots, and we had a field of 99 riders. Also, the time cut is strict (the winner's time plus 5 percent). For me, terror levels were high.

My job, along with my teammates Anna Grace Christiansen and Beth Ann Orton, was mostly just to set tempo at the front. Anything that went or that snuck off too far, we were to steadily close down. Not much went. And I wasn’t very good at my job, which means I provide a somewhat limited perspective on what happened during the race. I was like a satellite orbiting the peloton, either killing myself at the front or at the back, and often completely in the dark about what was happening in the race. At one point I was gapped with a group at the back and had to fight for a long time to get back on. The race set a new normalized power record for me in the 2.5-hour range (which previously had been the cat 2 men’s race at day one of Lago Vista), but most of the time I was working hard in a way that wasn’t useful to anyone.

Flavia and Anna were in a break that went around the last QOM; the situation was dangerous for Optum, and they had to chase hard to bring it back. Olivia attacked ahead of the third time bonus, preventing Brie from getting those seconds. On the last lap, Flavia broke away on the climb with Optum's Lex Albrecht and Team TIBCO's Kristabel Doebl-Hickok. Lex attacked the breakaway in the closing 500 meters, and as the field caught at the line, she took the win. Optum swept the podium, with Brianna Walle in second and Leah Kirchmann in third, but the silver lining for us was that Brie hadn't gotten the first-place time bonus. Unfortunately, Amber had been gapped at the finish, losing three seconds, and Brie had made up about half the GC time with other time bonuses. With the broken toe, Amber was having difficulty standing up in the saddle and had thrown up twice, but she had finished third in the sprints two times to gain two seconds, which mitigated a little of the damage. At the end of the day, we still had the yellow jersey and 16 seconds on Optum. Roughly a third of the field hadn't made the time cut and wouldn't start on Sunday.

The start of the crit was nerve-wracking. In order to take GC, Brie would have to either get in a break without Amber, or she'd have to get all the sprint bonuses, win the stage, and gap Amber at the finish. Any and all of those things were our job as her teammates to prevent.

Kat's solo break
And boy did it come close.

Brie won the bonus sprints at 20 minutes and 40 minutes. Optum was putting on a truly impressive performance. My teammates were controlling the front of the race or attacking. Anna Grace had put in a Herculean effort before the first bonus sprint in a solo move, missing out on winning the sprint by less than a width of a tire.

Again, I wasn’t being as useful as I could have been, but I did manage to see the front of a pro crit for the first time in my career. Around 24 minutes, I put in a hard attack and got away solo for roughly a lap and a half. It was thrilling to be in front of the race rather than dangling behind it, and I pushed myself hard. After I was caught, I was mostly just struggling to hang on, but eventually attacked again around 45 minutes. Though I was told later it wasn’t good for the team timing-wise, it happened to be a merchandise prime lap. When I won that just before getting passed, it felt like a major victory. Yes, I was aware no one else cared enough about the prime to go for it, and yes, I was still in way over my head, but it felt really good to do something. Unlike the crit at Valley of the Sun a month before, I hadn’t been completely invisible here.

Just before we started the final lap, there was a bad crash on the last right turn. Several big names went down hard, including Alison Tetrick of Optum. My teammate Mia Manganello got caught up in it, breaking her bike frame, but otherwise got up with only minimal roadrash.  I was at the back and was able to squeeze by the chaos on the right, but I’d had to slow and lost the pack. I was digging deep around the next few turns to catch back on—my goal was to at least catch the group of riders just ahead who’d also gotten gapped by the crash—but then the moto approached and neutralized everyone still in the race. We rolled slowly back up to the start line, and when they started us again, they gave us three laps to go instead of one. I think everyone felt bad for Amber Gafney of TWENTY16 p/b SHO-AIR, who’d been 8 seconds off the front before the crash and would almost definitely have won the race (which also would have suited our team). The officials gave her a few seconds’ headstart, but now the game had completely changed.

Brie finished first in the stage and Amber with the pack. It was tight, literally coming down to the last .7 seconds from the TT, but Amber was the GC winner! Team director Scott Warren and our mechanical miracle-workers for the weekend Ryan Szabo and Clint Sparks busted out a bottle of champagne, and we celebrated the first big victory of the year, exhausted and sweaty and hungry as lions, but overwhelmingly happy.

The San Dimas Stage Race was a vindication for our team. We’d been denied an invitation to one of the big national races this year. The victory was a statement, loud and clear: we have everything it takes to win.

Next up, the Redlands Bicycle Classic!

Fun video of the San Dimas crit
San Dimas Stage Race

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Next up, Redlands! April 8-12