So CJ talks me into this race (for once he's the one making us do stupid things) which was in Merrimac, MA. Tells me it's a "flat" race so we HAVE to do it...never mind the fact that the race STARTS at 8:15 AM, which means we are leaving my house at 6:15 am...ugh I am NOT a morning person!! Anyways, CJ, me and Shedd load into CJ's car and off we went.
We arrived at the venue in plenty of time, almost fully awake and semi-looking forward to the race. During our quick warm up spin we recon the finish of the race and duly note that it is going to be a downhill sprint finish for about 600 meters. Downhill finishes seem like a good idea, but trust me they aren't. What it typically means is a bunch of over stressed, over tired racers toss caution to the wind and ramp the speeds up well past the point of reason in a mad, gravity fueled dash to the finish. All this on roads that look like a 15 year old boys face.
The race was 5 laps of a 6 mile loop. It started out with a "neutral" roll out which sounded pleasant enough, until it became obvious to those of us that started towards the back of the pack that the race had actually begun without our knowing it. This led to a somewhat frantic chase to the pack up the only semi climb on the course. Maxing my HR within the first minute of racing is not a great start to the day.
Let me also say that while "just 200 feet of climbing per lap" sounds pretty mellow, it takes a little bit of a twist when the majority of that "just 200 feet of climbing per lap" occurs on the one climb that is immediately after a 90 degree right hand turn, which means that you aren't going to be carrying much momentum into that "just 200 feet of climbing per lap". good times.
Anyways, after that "start of the race" hiccup we settled in to racing on what can only be described as a 6 mile series of ruts and potholes. While the race promoters should be commended for the attention to detail with the race (awesome pace cars, motor cycles, directions, volunteers etc.) the town of Merrimac should be ashamed to call this collection of broken pavement a "road". It was virtually impossible for anyone in the field to maintain a steady line anywhere on the course. If you were to break down my $30 entry fee to .25 cents per pothole hit during the race, I would have come out ahead...by a fair margin!
We rolled around the course at a typically brisk 24+ mph with various people taking liberties with the "yellow line rule" and a few guys futilely trying to establish a break from the field. Of special note was one asshat that consistently passed vast portions of the pack well outside the yellow line, causing much bitterness and angst within the pack. Note to dumbass, we could ALL pass the pack by going over the yellow line...doing so makes you no superman. Try weaving your way through a pack of 60 guys to get to the front, then you have done something noteworthy (not to mention following the rules). His eventual DQ from the race was the ultimate in Street Justice (unfortunately not until after he took out one of our friends by driving him into a particularly nasty pothole and causing him to flat out of the race and then for an encore nearly killing everyone at the finish...but I digress).
Even though the roads were atrocious the race itself was mostly manageable. Other than a little panic on lap 3 where I swung the aforementioned 90 degree turn VERY wide and almost hit a car, leaving me well back, almost stopped and having to burn a few matches to chase back to the pack up that damned hill, it was going as planned. I knew that the pack was destined to stay together for bunch sprint at the end and was both excited for it and dreading it. The potential for carnage was unusually high on this one.
Coming around on lap 5 I started to work my way to the front. My gameplan was to be about 5-6 wheels back and on the far left (hugging the yellow line) so that when the road opened to the full 2 lanes within the last 200 Meters I could take advantage of the extra room and avoid the melee in the middle.
Coming into the last 800 meters all was well. Position was good, speed was good and the "plan" seemed to be working. Then of course all hell broke loose.
Asshat guy takes a huge flyer from the back of the pack as we start to go down the finishing hill. He's easily 5 feet outside the yellow line and flies past the entire pack. This causes a huge reaction from the field and it's basically game on. I look at the inside line where CJ is and see some guy run off the road next to him, come back onto the road, hit him squarely in the shoulders and then fly back off the road. CJ didn't look any worse for wear from having this guy bounce off him, but I am sure it didn't help his mental state any (Here's where being a Plus sized cyclist probably saved CJ from a nasty crash).
Seeing the race quickly disintegrating before my eyes I hit the gas and started my sprint well before I would have cared to. I did my best to weave around the various riders who seemed intent on killing me (and themselves) and got into a little clean air with about 75 meters to go.
A final out of the saddle kick got me past a few more riders and I rolled across the line in 11th place. Not quite the goal I had in mind before the start, but I was mostly happy to have both bike and body still in one piece. A quick glance at my computer had the final sprint at 45.3 mph (thanks to the downhill run up). A touch of wheels at that speed would have left a lot of skin and carbon fiber on the ground.
CJ rolled in just a few places behind me safe and sound and Shedd came in a little after that, torched but alive.
Overall we had a decent race, but not sure I'd like to temp fates by tackling that one a second time (unless they get rid of that downhill finish). I think my nerves were more shot than my legs for this one ;)
Off to the next one....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment