Blog Gap and The Tour de 'Peake

October 30, 2007

Greetings, it's been awhile blogettes and other blogees. My first bike racing season ended in mid-August. The season overall was extremely grueling, sometimes difficult to raise killer instincts in order to compete, and physically painful---I loved it! The moment-to-moment thrills were endless. I made new friends and, I suppose, opponents in the races which had many of the same riders from the Tidewater, Virginia area, my former stomping grounds and place where I grew up. I was always inspired by the riders on our team as they competed.

The day following my infamous cheeseburger-toting Tour de Port, I raced in the Tour de 'Peake in Chesapeake, Va. There were around 35 Cat 5 riders like myself. Two riders from my club, Ricky D. and Michael B. were with me. Again we lined up, me first, wheel on the start line, Ricky on my rear wheel, Michael on his. I noticed two riders lined up together on the far right, Cory and A.J. They were from different teams but I knew they were among the strongest I could pick out, and having them together on the start line told me something was up. Cory was on the line followed by A.J., and then A.J.'s whole team stretched out behind him.

I had no idea exactly what I was going to do but I sensed something was about to go bang over there on the outside. The race started. I let the riders to my right, also on the starting line, go forward creating a gap giving me a lane over to the right where Cory and A.J. launched away. I shot the gap, broke into A.J.'s team's line and accelerated like a crazy person to catch A.J.'s wheel. We had about 100 yards to the first lefthand turn (90 degrees, 2 lanes wide). We came out of the turn way fast in a streaking paceline! I had no idea at this point who was behind me or where my teammates were. I glanced down at my computer---30 then 31 mph! "Oh my god, we're in a break," I thought. "I hope other riders are hooked on to help keep this pace. I'll never last the whole race if it's just the three of us. Is the main field still attached to us?"

All I could do was stay tucked down out of the wind, drafting in A.J.'s slipstream as I watched Cory come off the front, slide down along our left side and to the rear of the paceline with it's unknown number of riders. A.J. leading, I would have to take my turn working at the front next. He peeled away on the back stretch right before the turn into the finishing straight. I led us back across the start/finishing line and could hear the race commentator say something about Kitty Hawk Cycling Club in the break.

We again rounded the first 90-degree corner, went about 300 yards and I slid off the front and began dropping back along the paceline's side. I counted riders anxiously as I progressed toward the sanctuary of the rear, where other riders were enjoying the labors of the riders leading them.

Ricky, my teammate, had made the break and was safely working in about the sixth position back. There were a total of 8 of us. Before the end of the race one rider would drop out of our lead group. The main field was quite distant behind us and no threat, the break distance having been created. Our group settled into a 27-29 mph tempo, which functioned well with the number we had and as long as everyone cooperated and took their turn working at the front.

I stayed in the rotation behind A.J.'s rear wheel. Several laps in I knew we were pressing the fitness level of this group as riders would immediately come off the front when it became their turn, or if they were the second rider, stay on the leader's wheel when he came off the front skipping their turn altogether. The cooperation among the riders began to stress, tension and even anger crossed riders' faces as they were pushed more quickly to the point. One paceline became two almost competing lines.

Grudgingly, riders fell back together realizing a group tantrum was only going to empower the riders following us in the main field, and maybe have them bridge up to us. So the unspoken decision being clearly, and convincingly concluded, we fell back upon our group fate to help each other to the bell lap where the gloves would come off and our primal, solo efforts would overtake all else as the only thing in the world that mattered.

I remember the bell ringing as we passed the reviewing stand. A.J. was at the line's head, me huddled on his rear wheel, other riders in the break behind us. A.J. rides for the Fat Frogs Racing Team out of Va. Beach. He is a big, powerful rider, maybe around 6'-2" and 240 pounds with one large eyeball tattoed on the back of each of his calves. I had noticed these and his raw power in time trials earlier in the season. He is a superb time trialist.

As we pushed hard around the back stretch still holding our paceline, I leaned forward and urged A.J. to push harder saying,"let's time trial 'em A.J." Meaning let's ride faster to keep the other riders back while trying to break any of the riders who may be suffering. Easy for me to say when I'm hiding behind his wheel out of the wind right? He answered back to me,"it's too far to the line yet Skip." So we kept up the pace pushing 30 mph again. I found out later, my teammate was on my wheel also enjoying his protected position.

The last 90-degree turn before the finish line was about 1000 yards from the line. Out of the turn we held our positions and stayed on our saddles for about 50 yards and then the race exploded. We all shifted to a higher gear, stood up, broke out of the line all at once groping for an open path to the finish. The sprint was on! Bike frames creaked and cogs and sprockets clacked and clicked. A.J. slowly pulled away from me. Ricky launched out from behind my rear wheel, streaking by me and then A.J.

I poured every cell of strength I could gather down through the pedals, the drive train and to the very rubber tire face engaging the road surface. I crossed the finish line at 33 mph having been passed by one rider on the left, one on the right, and finishing fifth. I had partially dislocated a rib during this race I guess during one of the big efforts. Didn't realize it until the adrenaline faded later. Ricky reached an impressive 37 mph as he took first place, A.J. in second.

I finished my first racing season with a seventh place at the Chesapeake Criterium and a DNF at the Statesville (N.C.) Criterium. Training time has been filled since then with surfing and tempo rides. Won't begin focused race training again until mid-November. Hope to blog you again soon. Let me hear from you sometime.