The day of the 1981 edition of the Stockton Time Trial saw dreary overcast weather, and it was somewhat windy. It did not appear to be a the day for any record setting times. The Stockton Time Trial course is flat and straight with the exception of a single ninety degree turn to be performed once on the way out to the turnaround, and once on the way back. Going through apple orchards, there is very little traffic. The surface of the road is quite grainy and is at sea level.
Only a handful of people had broken one hour on this twenty- five mile course, and while not being an experienced time trialist, I felt physically and mentally up to the task. We started with a slight tailwind, and things felt good right away. My execution of the ninety degree turn was perfect, and all was well. After about eight miles, I was shocked to discover that the rider who had started one minute behind me had closed the gap more than halfway.
As I barrelled into the turnaround, I had already passed the two riders who had started one and two minutes ahead of me, but my confidence was severely shaken to see that the rider behind me was less than ten seconds back. I had gotten to the turn around in under twenty-nine minutes, and despite the return trip being a headwind, felt that I could still break one hour. My concern about my finishing time meant little as the rider behind drew even with me.
Who the heck was this guy? I picked up the pace so that I could study this mystery rider better. This practise usually annoys pure time trialists, but this fellow clearly didn't mind. He was sporting a jersey of a club that I had never heard of, and he was really built. I thought that I knew every category one and two rider in Northern California, but all I could do was simply wonder: who the heck was this guy?
He slowly crept away from me, and I slowly faded, more from my morale being trampled by an unknown rather than due to any physical inability. I was far from excited when I finished half a minute over one hour (normally an excellent time for this course). After all of the results were posted, I sauntered over to the posting of times and saw that this guy had blown away the course record. I had gotten fifth place but was still in no mood to celebrate; I just had to find out more about this guy whose name was unfamiliar to me and my teammates at the race. A check of the start roster revealed that this man, Bob Hammond, was of local origin, and one of the locals told me that he was not new to the area. How could this happen? We were soon to learn more about Bob at the Laguna Seca Road Race (see Laguna Seca Road Race Story )...