And where were you on 11-11-11@11:11 AM?
This race has been bouncing around in the back of my head for a few weeks now. Originally I had thought about making the long journey for the WORS season finale in Sheboygan (WI), but work commitments nixed those plans and left me searching for something to sate my desire for one more mountain bike race. After my crash and subsequent shoulder injury last week I figured that racing the Mullet Classic was out of the question. As things slowly got better over the course of the week and I grew restless, I started to consider racing again. I figured if nothing else it would serve as a nice long aerobic workout, which is something I felt I’ve been missing lately. Besides, how can you resist a race that has “mullet” in the name. A spot in the Feagan’s vehicle sealed the deal for me, and we took off bright and early Sunday morning for Lake Ahquabi.
After arriving and kitting up we took survey of the trails before start time. I had heard/read ahead of time that the course was fast, with lots of doubletrack and swooping turns. The pre-ride/warm up did not disappoint as the course was fun and barn-burner fast! I decided pre-race to set up some bottles on the Feagan’s aid table as I didn’t really have a good feel for how many bottles I would need or how long the race would take. I positioned a couple cold water bottles in my cooler so that they would be available for a quick exchange, and headed to the start. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a low-key race for me I was still nervous. Nobody likes getting their ass kicked, and this was my first cat. 1 mountain bike race. Even if it was a small race there were still fast guys in it.
As the starter sent us off Cam Kirkpatrick and Matias Perret went to the front and lead the group out with Ryan Feagan, Jay Chesterman, and Ryan Nenninger in tow. I started slow, partly as a result of pedal fumbling and partly out of trepidation. I tucked in about 8th wheel and eventually moved up to get on Matt Gersib’s wheel. The leadout train was moving quickly, and Matt didn’t seem overly concerned with catching them, but at the same time wasn’t riding slow either. I debated trying to get around or just settling in. In my mind I was worried that an overzealous start would result in a very unpleasant death march to the finish on lap 4. When the majority of your races are barely more than an hour in Cat. 2, riding for 2 hours or more is a bit intimidating. So I hung back. After bogging down on a steep pitch behind Matt I went around and decided to set off on my own. I couldn’t even see the top guys anymore and just sort of resigned myself to riding alone for most of the race.
I tried to keep an even hard tempo and ride as smooth as possible with hopes of maybe picking up a straggler or two. I hated the idea of getting beat by Ryan, who although a far better bike handler than me had spent most of his time since Dakota 5-0 training minimally and eating fried food (by his own admission). At this point though Ryan was out of sight and I figured it wasn’t worth worrying about at the moment. I was pleased to find that the backside of the course which we had not been able to ride during the warm-up had some challenging climbs on it. I like hills.
After two laps my bottle was empty and I stopped briefly at the start/finish to pick up a fresh bottle. It wasn’t long after getting going again that Gersib showed up and promptly went around me. I hadn’t realized that he was still relatively close when I stopped for a bottle change and that I had effectively erased any gap I had by stopping. It was then that I regretted not starting the race with both bottle cages full. Matt was wearing a camelbak under his jersey and thus didn’t need to stop for a bottle change. I let Matt tow me around for a while, dutifully scrambling to make up the ground I lost on the descents or fast corners. With my recent shoulder injury still fresh in my mind I was perhaps still a bit afraid to fully let it rip on the fast and loose sections of the course. After swooping around on Matt’s wheel for a while and making a few sketchy passes of lapped riders we all of a sudden came upon Jed Clampet (errr…Ryan Feagan) poking along in his denim and flannel cut off kit. Ryan let out an audible sound of disappointment as we caught him, but nonetheless he kicked up the pace so that we had a three man NE train going! It was kind’a fun.
A little while later the NE train came rolling up on the familiar orange Powerade/Indy Fab jersey of Jay Chesterman. Chomp. Jay was absorbed by the train and we continued to roll. Knowing that we were headed into another section of the course with some significant climbing followed by some fast descents, I decided it was tactically in my best interests to try to get some breathing room on the climbs. As we approached a left turn going into a prolonged moderate climb I whipped around and threw down the attack. I knew that someone had taken up the chase behind me, but I didn’t look back to see who. I just put my head down and tried to build a gap. Not long after that we picked up and subsequently dropped Nenninger. From that point on I built a lead, although I don’t know how big it got at it’s largest point. About midway through lap 4 I realized that I had company, and as we hit the prolonged climb this time it was Gersib throwing down the well-timed attack. After getting the gap on the climb he kept the pressure on in the downhill sections and put some time into me. I tried my best to keep him in my sights, even slamming it into the big ring for the long flat section by the lake. By the time we hit the steep grinding asphalt climb I had made up a little ground, but he was still far enough ahead that catching him would have taken something pretty heroic. I stayed strong for the final climb on the course but wasn’t making up any ground and the gap remained to the finish. After all was said and done Matt was able to put about 30 seconds into me. We finished in just under 2 hours and averaged about 13 mph, which is totally ridiculous for a mountain bike race.
After the race we stuck around for the food and beer and waited for Roxy and Todd to finish the marathon race. When the results were posted it turned out that Gersib and I were battling for the final podium spot. Doh! I wish I had known that during the race. There’s always a little extra motivation to be found when you know you’re in contention for glory and/or cash! I don’t know that I could have caught Matt, but perhaps I would have had a little more motivation to turn myself inside out trying. After an hour or so of eating drinking and socializing we finally loaded up and hit the road. A good time was had by all, and I’m already thinking about where we can get a Camaro with a bike rack for the road trip to next year’s race.
Everybody seems to get pretty fired up for the local races, and the hype machine was in full effect going into the Omaha weekend, which for all intents and purposes serves as the first race of the CX season for most of us. This year I already had a tune up race in Iowa and some big time racing at the USGP in Madison under my belt, so I was ready to rock out in the open race. I helped Randy set up the course and organize the registration in the morning so I had a chance to peruse the start lists and noted that while the field wasn’t huge it would be filled with some quality riders. The course at Swanson is a real doozy with lots of grunty short climbs, one sustained climb, and plenty of off camber turns to keep you from getting too fancy. On top of that was a nasty maze slammed down on the side of a hill that was giving riders fits during the practice laps.
After a hard weekend of racing in Madison, and a pretty solid week of training leading up to the Omaha weekend my legs were a little less than fresh, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect after the warm-up. As a result of too much dinking around prior to staging I had to start on the third row…oops. I burned some matches trying to move up early on, and probably got myself up to about 7th wheel before we hit the maze. I got gapped a bit coming out of the maze and really got on the gas to try and make contact again. As a result I came into one of the downhill off camber turns a little too hot and slid out…right in front of a mob of pac man ghosts. I got up quickly for fear of being eaten.
Things happen fast in CX and just like that I lost about 5 positions and almost got eaten by ghosts. I had to take a moment to get my chain back on and get rolling again. I was annoyed with myself for having made a mistake that I knew would cost me, especially so early in the race. Eventually I clawed back most of the positions I had lost, but not without a herculean effort. As the race wore on I found myself locked in a battle with Tyler Carmichael as we went back and forth alternately attacking each other. I had a good gap going for a while, but eventually Tyler worked his way back onto my wheel. We were together flying through the sweeping downhill left known unofficially as the “walnut turn” when I heard the unmistakeable commotion behind me that signifies a crash (usually the sound of grunting, swearing, and bending metal). I didn’t look back, but I knew that was probably the end of that battle for the day. I went on to grab another spot as a tiring Nate Woodman gave me some encouragement as I went by. I finished the race 8th overall out of 18 starters, which was o.k. I felt like I could have done better, but people always think that, it’s just human nature. I promised myself that on day 2 I would avoid the costly mistakes of day 1. Boy was I wrong.
After a restless night of lazing about with achey legs I headed back to Swanson early on Sunday morning to help with course set-up and registration again. I watched the early races with anticipation and cheered on my girlfriend Emily in her second-ever bike race. I was proud of her for bucking up after a tough first day on Saturday which was capped by a less than fun crash. I reminded her that crashing is part of the framework that makes up the learning curve in cycling…or at least in off-road cycling. And of course by this logic I should be learning a shit-load this season because I’ve hit the turf in every single race so far!
I had a nice start on Sunday, but I was too tentative on the fast downhill section and lost some positions I would have liked to have kept. My legs didn’t feel awful, but had no real pop. I lost the front group early on, and again had to fight back after dumping the bike on a dry slow 180 turn. After that the top 7-8 guys were just gone, and I didn’t have the legs to bring any of them back. Eventually, Steve Jarrett caught up to me and we waged a nice back and forth battle for a while. I fought hard to stay in front of Steve knowing that he would likely gap me in the technical sections if I let him get ahead. I could tell he was working hard by listening to his breathing, and I decided to keep applying pressure when I could, namely in the running or power sections. Eventually, I was able to get a gap that stuck going into the last lap, and was somewhat happy that I would come out on top of this battle.
After completing the climb I bombed the downhill leading into the maze to maintain my gap. Unfortunately, I “got a little too big for my britches” (as Stamper was fond of saying) heading into the sweeping left at the beginning of the maze and slammed hard. In fact it’s probably about as hard as I can recall crashing for quite a while. I landed directly on my left shoulder and the impact was stunning. After I regained my wits I started to worry I had broken my arm or shoulder. After a few moments Steve passed by and told me that we had a good enough gap that I could probably maintain my position (minus what I’d lost to him) if I could ride it out. I checked the bike and assessed the usefulness of my arm. In an effort to see if I could finish, I mounted the bike and gingerly made my way through the maze using the left arm as little as possible.
I was initially so defeated that I didn’t entirely care if anyone else passed me. As I reached the Omaha version of “hooligan hill” the assembled crowd started chanting “beer, beer, beer”, collectively urging me to take a handup. Normally I’m so focused on going fast that I wouldn’t even notice, but in the wrecked state I was in I was happy to oblige. Half a Miller High Life and a few turns later, I limped in for a 10th place finish among the 19 starters. This was the start of basically a week of moping, poor quality sleep and partial disability. Happily I’ve been able to get back to riding recently, and the shoulder/arm doesn’t seem to be broken or anything. It’s weird what the combination of a bad day on the bike compounded by an injury does to your mindset. For most of the week I didn’t even want to ride, but as things got better I eventually began to think about Mullets…
( I should also add that a number of other VV rides had great races this weekend. Todd Eyeberg, Dave Randleman, and Jonathan Neve raced well in the Cat. 3 races, Ben Swan got after it in the Cat. 4 race, and Randy Crist competed in a stacked masters race.)
After all of my whining (in jest) on day 1 about the perfect weather and conditions being inappropriate for cyclocross, mother nature took note and delivered on the weather for day 2. Before the race, I opted for an early brunch at one of my Madison favorites, El Dorado Grill. I watched the rain coming down in sheets from the gray sky as I scarfed down a warm stack of blue corn pancakes with cascabel chili maple syrup and red chili butter and a side of bacon. Today would be a good day for cyclocross. After breakfast we rushed to the venue to see the homies (Josh and Tim) roll out in the SS race. I recon’d the course and took note that all of the off camber sections were shredded to pieces. With continued rain and thunderstorms forecast throughout the day I knew things would only get more awesome.
For some reason getting to the start line always seems to be an adventure for me in that there always seems to be more things to do than I have allotted myself time to do them in. This day was no exception as I scrambled around trying get things in order before staging time. But, because this was a big important race it seems that the adventure/drama factor had to be cranked up a notch. I headed out for my warmup at the normal time after pinning my number to my jersey and leaving it in the car. About a ½ mile to a mile from the venue I stood on the pedals to accelerate as I crossed a major road. Ching! I looked down to see what I intuitively knew, but did not want to acknowledge. Chain broken. After muttering a few curse words I quickly collected my bike and busted chain and started running back to the venue to search out the SRAM neutral support tent. Luckily, I found them and they hooked me up with a new chain no questions asked. Disaster #1 averted. I rolled back to the car to don my jersey and get back lickety split for staging.
As I got back to the car the rain started to fall hard again, and I ducked inside to stay warm and dry while getting ready. After pulling on my jersey I tried several times to zip it up but couldn’t quite get it done. After inspecting the zipper a little more closely I realized that the bottom piece of plastic on the zipper had broken off inside the…thingy. Anyway, the bottom line was that unless I wanted to rock the flying tails look, this jersey was done. I invoked Arrested Development in my head as I yelled to nobody in particular “come on!” Luckily I was wise enough to bring an extra jersey, and quickly made the number switch, being careful not to mess up the zipper this time.
As staging time drew near the weather only seemed to get worse. I was waiting underneath the shelter area watching water pouring off the eaves and lighting flash in the distance when I heard the distinct “tack…tack, tack…tack, tack, tack” of hail. As things went from awesome to more awesome the announcers got on the p.a. and told us that they were delaying staging by 20 minutes to let the worst weather pass. Somehow the race management timed things perfectly as the weather seemed to clear up right around the time we were called to stage. I had starting position that wasn’t terrible, but not great either. I was probably about 5 rows back from the start, with 3-4 rows behind me. I prepared myself mentally for the start.
At the gun I got clipped in fairly quickly but was hesitant to give it full gas, knowing we were going to be flying into a right hand sweeper off the pavement into wet grass and mud. This fact didn’t seem to deter anyone else though as guys flew buy me leading into the first turn. Amazingly nobody went down, and not amazingly I got shuffled to the back of the pack. This is normally a sucky position to be in, but when you are in a muddy race with about 60 guys in front of you it REALLY sucks. I went to work passing guys as soon as I could, but I knew that being hesitant at the start had cost me some spots I would most likely never get back. Once again, the importance of a good start in CX racing was made abundantly clear as I slogged along in the latter third of the field.
Happily I was able to pass a lot of guys during the race and claw my way back up into the top ½ of the field by races end. I might have done even a little better had I remembered to put in toe spikes before the race. Total amateur mistake. I got killed every time we had to dismount and run as I had zero traction. Ah well. Although I would have liked to have done better overall, a top 30 placing in a 35+ masters field at a well attended USGP race was not something to go home and cry about. I actually left the race hopeful that I had room for improvement, and could legitimately be in the top 10-15 in a USGP level 2/3 race and in the top 20-25 in a 35+ race. Time will tell I guess.
Omaha Cyclocrash...err cross Weekend recap coming soon
Prologue
Going into this past weekend I was super fired up for the start of the CX season. The Planet Bike Cup is the first stop on the U.S. Grand Prix of cyclocross circuit, and is a well organized and super competitive event. Add to that the fact that it’s held just outside of my beloved Madison, WI and you have all of the making s of a great race weekend. I winged in to Madison on Friday evening directly from Orlando where I had been all week for work, and was greeted by beautiful cool fall weather. We received a little rain over night, but upon arrival at the venue the course appeared to be in good shape and there was nothing but cool blue sky and sunshine in abundance.
Day 1 USGP Category 2/3 race
After a slightly rushed warm up I headed to the staging area to prepare for my call up. Call ups are managed by order of registration at the Planet Bike Cup so you have to be on the ball and know when registration opens to get a good spot in the starting grid. While I registered within 30 minutes or so of the opening of registration, I still got stuck about 5 rows back from the line. While not disastrous, it’s certainly a disadvantage to be starting that far back. Luckily I wasn’t one of those poor suckers who was stuck at the back!
The field size was just shy of 100, and the adrenaline was running high as we prepared for the start. The start of cyclocross races are normally a pretty frantic and chaotic affair, but in a field size this big, full of fit and skilled riders, it becomes even more nuts. Some guys up front inevitably have trouble clipping in, while others come roaring up from poor starting positions in the rear trying to weasel or bully their way to the front. Occasionally people touch wheels or crash and ensnare those around them. As the gun fired , the sounds of pedal stomping, drivetrains engaging , and rubber being laid to pavement filled the air as we collectively leapt forward. I managed to hold my position reasonably well during the opening scrum and started moving up on the outside as we flew down the long power section leading into the first barrier section. I swung wide and picked my line as we turned toward the barriers and then before I knew it I was on the ground looking at the rider behind me turn his bike sideways just soon enough to avoid riding over my face. Phew. I got back up quickly and started to run the bike over the barriers. When I got to the other side I hopped back on intent on pulling back those spots I’d lost. It was then I realized that my chain had derailed. Doh! I got off and pulled far over to the side and fumbled around briefly popping it back on. While it didn’t take a huge amount of time to fix my chain, the fact that the crash occurred so early in the race ensured that I was screwed. NOW, I WAS one of those poor suckers who was stuck at the back!
Luckily there is a fair amount of room to move on this course, and I set forth from that point with the intent to do as well as I could under the circumstances. I rode about as hard as I could for the rest of the race and pulled back every rider in my sights. Aside from that initial costly mistake, I rode the rest of the race without incident and was able to move from dead last up to 29th by the end of the race. It wasn’t exactly the result I had hoped for, but not a bad one all things considered. If nothing else it’s good to gain experience in big race situations. After the race we hung around to drink a few beers and watch the pro races. I got the chance to help out one of the local riders and watch the goings on in the wheel/bike pit, while one of my friends race d to a 30th place finish in his first cat 1/UCI elite CX race. Pretty cool!
As we headed home to rest up and chow down on some dinner, I looked at the weather forecast for Sunday. The weatherman promised that conditions for CX racing would be EPIC, and indeed they were…(to be continued)
El Guapo Supreme deep-fried after 56 mile @ 24.1 MPH grueling TT, the Orbea hanging in the background on the now-infamous rack. Yo quiero Diet Coke!
Climb Every Mountain Click on pic to enlarge
After a week of work and travel in Canada I returned to Omaha for the Babcook Memorial Road Race, the final race of the Omaha race weekend. This was my second road race (ever) and my first race in Cat. 4, and I wanted to represent well for the club and hometown crowd. I managed to get in one ride while in Canada and a few runs so I figured that while not in peak form my fitness would be more or less o.k. Some of the guys on the team had talked briefly about employing some team tactics, but as it turned out our numbers were split as Dave and Pete opted for the masters race while Todd and I battled it out in the Cat. 4 field. Ben Swan and Doug Reid also rocked out in the Cat. 5 race while a trio of ladies (Jackie Wieres, Simone Duryea, and Maddie Eliston) represented Velo Veloce in the cat. 4 women's and junior races.
I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from the field as there were a lot of guys lined up who I had ridden with on the “Wednesday Night Worlds” ride who are pretty strong riders. One thing was for sure though, I wasn’t just going to be able to ride away from everybody, especially on a course that really had only one hill on it that was tough enough to create any separation. I hoped that we would be able to drive the pace hard enough on the climb to whittle down the field by mid-race or so.
We got off to a casual start, but given the sweltering heat I’m not surprised that nobody was eager to get after it early on. The pace continued to dawdle through the early laps, at times becoming painfully slow. I had to resist the urge to charge to the front and I kept reminding myself to try to conserve as much energy as possible while staying out of trouble. The slow pace kept the field together for probably at least 4 of the 7 circuits, and I felt incredibly claustrophobic at times. The climb was particularly challenging as the lane was quite narrow and I was occasionally forced to brake (!) on the climb as riders in front of me were climbing at a slower pace.
There were a couple of people who got off the front occasionally, but I don’t think any of them were real serious efforts to get away. I’m not surprised that nobody wanted to cook out there by themselves on this day. Eventually with about 3 laps to go I was able to get up front, and spent some time pulling the group along. Not surprisingly we didn’t have any organized rotation going in the group so I stayed in the middle of the group and never really saw the front until mid to late race.
(photo credit to Dan Farnham)
On lap 6 (of 7) I made sure that I stayed close to the front so that I would have an open lane of attack going into the climb. As we approached the base I slowly ramped up the pace and then hit the jets as soon as the pitch kicked up. As far as I could tell I got immediate separation, and I continued to hammer my way towards the top. As I neared the summit, Patrick Sumrell, a tall lean jr. rider who regularly hangs with the top group at WNW pulled up along side me and said something to the effect of “we’ve got it”. Sweet, a gap AND someone to work with!
I latched onto Patrick’s wheel to recover for a bit and then we traded pulls throughout the lap. I rode as hard as I could without blowing up, hoping to stay away to the finish. I was counting on a lack of a concerted team effort and cooperation in the group chasing us to keep them from shutting our move down before the finish. For the most part this worked as we were still free when we hit the 1k to go mark. Just prior to that I had been sitting on Patrick’s wheel resting, and thinking we had the race for 1st and 2nd in hand. I came around to ride parallel with him as we started the climb. We both accelerated as we started up but Patrick dropped back slightly and I figured that would be a good time to go for the win. As I got out of the saddle to jump, both of my quads started to cramp…attack fail. I had to sit back down and try to recover somehow as I watched Patrick ride away to victory. It was then that I looked over my shoulder to see Rob Swanson bearing down on me at a rapid pace. Crap. I tried to accelerate again but my legs weren’t having any of it. Both Rob and Ryan Johnston passed me well before the line and I had to hobble it in for 4th (although scored as 3rd in cat. 4 since Patrick is a jr).
All in all it was a valuable racing experience as I was forced to think about the race, make decisions on the fly, and pick a strategy that I thought would give me the best shot at winning. I don’t feel too bad as I know the guys I lost to are strong riders, and I’m not sure it would have turned out any differently had I chosen to wait for a field sprint at the finish. I definitely feel like I can win a race like that, it just didn’t come out in my favor this time. My only mistake really I think was not sitting on Patrick’s wheel a bit longer as we approached the finish. I figured we’d just have a head’s up drag race to the finish from 1k out, but I know that’s not how things operate in the cycling world for the most part. Maybe with a little more rest I would have had the juice to more effectively vie for the win (or at least hang on to 2nd). I guess that’s a question that will have to be answered next time out, perhaps at the Lincoln weekend this fall. Thanks to all who provided support, especially the Greenstreet crew for the bottle hand ups (and post-race shade!) and to the race organizers for a great race. Also great to see all of the fellow teammates out there racing!
