Pontiac. Firebird.

So, the season has arrived, I skipped 2 or three common season openers before arriving at Pontiac.  It felt strange coming into my fist race so late in the season, but a minimal amount of time riding on dirt.  Will skipping these warm-up races have a negative impact, or will I be springtime fresh?

I arrived at Pontiac Lake not quite as early as usual.  It was good to have a shorter commute.  Brain from The Motor Club was already set up, so I poached a seat under the canopy and chatted for a bit.

Soon enough it was time to get changed and start warming up.  I spun around a bit and checked out the new Start/Finish loop around the field.  I was a little tougher mentally, but nice for the folks not racing to see some of the action.

By the time that I finished warming, I saw the cattle being corralled for the start and worked my into the mass of carbon and metal.  I found my group but had to settle for second row.  I lined up next to Gus, while the big guns like Osgood and the KLM Power Duo of Lako and Gonzalez sat in front.  We pushed our way forward awaiting our 10:04 start.

The seconds on the clock flipped to :00 and the surge was on.  Once again the rider directly in front of me missed a clip and fumbled around.  Fuck me, every race it seems I get caught in this.  Strike one.  I work around him as the train formed on the grass and headed to the dirt.  Once onto the singletrack I was last wheel in the group and knew I had to start making up ground.

The troupe consisted of: Anthony, KLM:Power Duo, Osgood, Fedewa, Hemingway, and W9.  (There may have been one other, but close enough).  We stayed together surprisingly well, but soon the rope started to stretch with the 3 leaders pulling away.  I made a pass on 2-mile climb to close on Osgood, but chose a sloppy line and ended up washing out.  Strike 2.  I quickly remounted and began the chase anew.

Before long we were down to a group of just 3 behind the leaders: Gus, Osgood and I chasing down Alex as he was left behind by Lako and Anthony.  The 4 of us congealed and stuck together for a bit, with nobody making a move.  After a short while, the leader from the next wave (Wissink) caught us and I waved him through on the left.  As he began to pass the cluster of riders, it was my intention was to jump on his wheel and follow him through.  Just as I pulled alongside the group, Osgood had the same idea and snatched my line.  The passing window immediately closed, and I was now at the back of a group of 3, with Osgood pulling away.  I missed my chance.  Third strike.  I stayed on the back of 3-pack for a bit longer, looking for a place to make a move and try to chase down Osgood.

Then it happened, we came to the mud hole on mile 8.  All 5 of the riders immediately ahead of me went to left, so I thought “Screw it” and decided that I was going to go straight through the middle and see what happens.  As I came to the mud I saw a log bridge/ladder on the far right side, and heard a commotion to my left.  I hit those logs full tilt and came busting out the other side.  I don’t know what happened on the left, but I was now directly behind Wissink and had a gap on Osgood and the others.  Home fucking run! (OK, I know enough about baseball that it is highly difficult to get a home run after a third strike, so I guess one of the earlier strikes was actually a foul tip.)

I tried my best to stay on Wiss' wheel and increase the gap behind because I knew Ozzy wasn’t going to let me get away easy.  I kept Wissink in sight almost the remainder of the lap.  I didn’t see John, but I thought I heard his name as he came through the finish area.  

Lap 2, the moment of truth (Ok, more than a moment, but less than an hour).  The race was now a Time Trial like years past.  I hit the singletrack solo and trying to maintain my speed.  At the switchback on 2-mile climb I saw the Red/Black/White & Mavic Yellow charging up behind and I put in a dig.  I wasn’t going to get caught, not this time.  I continued to push my pace, and I think I may have passed a couple riders along the way. 

On the straightaway leading to the final switchback climbs of the day, I saw two riders ahead.  One was a wearing blue and white, which I thought could be a KLM jersey.  I closed the gap on those two by the top of the climb.  On the short descent to the 2-track KLM got a bit of a gap and by the time I hit the final flat I was at full steam to make the pass and close it.  On the grass to the finish we were side-by-side and I realized it wasn’t Lako but kept up the effort across the line.

When the dust settled, I finished in 2^nd place, a tie for my best Expert finish ever, and probably my least miserable effort.  I didn’t stay around long after the race, as the rain began and I am a sissy when it comes to the cold.

Terrific outings both fellow Twin Six reps Jorden Wakeley (1^st Elite, duh!) in the Metal kit and Brain (4^th Expert 40-49) and Ken (5^th Beginner 40-49) representing the Motor Club.  It was Kenny’s first MTB race, and the conditions out there were less than ideal for the afternoon groups, but he fought through and got his METAL.  Let’s hope he stays there.

Brain playing it cool

Going. Nowhere. Fast.

I guess this update should have come out before the Pontiac XC race last weekend.  I have been thinking about the content for a bit, but have been too busy/lazy to get it written.  I may as well get it up before race reporting.

2012 was supposed to be my breakout year for racing.  I don’t know if that was self-imposed or perhaps something that others felt as well.  I wouldn’t call it a meteoric rise by any stretch of the imagination.  2010 was my first year racing; I rode singlespeed in the beginner age group with the geared guys.  I trained a bit in the offseason, and 2011 came out in Sport Singlespeed category.  I did well enough, moved up after a couple of races and finished the season winning the CPS Expert/Elite Singlespeed, and finished 4^th in the USAC sport age group on gears on the side.  After some cajoling in that Fall, it was time to man up to Expert.  I used this as an excuse to buy a new bike.

So, I trained hard over the winter of 2011, or at least I thought I did.  I moved to a big name team, and planned on another big race season and kicked it off with some very mediocre performances.  I got taken down at Barry-Roubaix, broke a chain at Yankee and again at Custer, missed a turn at Mud, Sweat and Beers, and overall just came out flat.  I then moved to some road work, and had some fun in the Cat.5 group before catting up after a few races.  Back onto the dirt and I continued my ways of self-destructing and finishing mid pack or worse.

By mid-summer, I was done and not even wanting to ride for fun.  My training went to null.  My racing were just going through the motions.  The only high spot from June on was the Stony XC race.  This was the first race I went in with not caring about finishes, team performances, or any expectations.  The result was my best finish of the season.

Iceman was a bust, and finishing at the back of the Pro group did nothing for my waning desire.  I had 5 months to figure out what it was that I am going to do this year.  You can notice that there is no schedule in the right column, and that is because I don’t know.  Each weekend is a coin flip to see if I am up for a race, or if I am going stay in bed.

This season will be going back to my roots, riding for Twin Six, no expectations, no cares and a Fuck You attitude.  Let’s see how this plays out.

And, the Iceman Go-eth...

Since everybody has been updating their blogs, I figure it would be time that I should do that as well.  Back in November I promised an update on my Iceman ride.  I think it has been sufficiently long that I forgot enough detail that this post can be relatively brief.

It was the Friday before, and on the way up we stopped at a Taco Bell for lunch.  Upon entering I saw Osgood, a scary bearded guy who had to be Lako, and Alex Gonzalez.  I felt better about my dining decision know that the guys who are routinely faster than I am were also sitting down to 4 Doritos Locos Tacos, Supreme, two Mexican pizzas, a Nacho Bell Grande and 164 oz. of Mountain Dew Baja Blast!

After lunch we continued on our way north to Kalkaska.  I had read a lot about the new sections of the course and some re-routing action.  I figured the only way to know what to expect would be a preliminary ride of the course the day before.  I took off from the Kalkaska hospital and hit the trail near the start.  I briefly thought about starting at the school, but was a bit worried about changing in the parking lot.

The new ‘road’ sections were definitely sandy, and deep.  I knew things would be different after 300 racers go through.  I would be taking off in the afternoon; I was a “Pro” after all.  I finished up in about 2:20, damp and cold. I felt Ok for the race.  It was just for fun, right?

Then it was off to GT Lodge to sign in and hit the expo.  I waited in the long line to pick up my packet, and once I made it to the front I was told that the “Pro” riders needed to go over there (*points to the right*) where there were 2 workers and no line.  Doh!  One benefit wasted.  Browsing through the expo, my excitement for mountain biking and cycling in general was waning, so I didn’t see much that interested me.

Time to check into the hotel, sneak my bike into the room and then go get some dinner.  Instead of my traditional pre-Iceman meal, we met some friends at a different dining establishment.  To continue my theme from earlier in the day, it was a wet burrito.  Although the ‘wet’ tasted like spaghetti sauce and kinda ruined the experience for me.

Back to the hotel, it was time for bed.  I awoke the next morning and went down for breakfast.  It was nice not setting an alarm, although the 5, 6, and 7 am racers were plenty loud enough that an alarm would not have been necessary, even if I was wearing ear plugs and put a pillow over my head.  Another issue that morning was a slight toothache that gradually increased in intensity throughout the morning until my moderate discomfort became annoying pain.  I went to the drug store, loaded up on toothache medicine and pain relievers.  It helped a bit, but I wasn’t in to mood to eat any lunch.

Time to race.  I waited in traffic and dropped the wife off at Timber Ridge then continued to Kalkaska. It was super nice just driving up to the starting line and parking in the adjacent lot.  “Pro” benefit #2 I guess.  I got changed, rode around, chatted with Mr. Powers, and get ready for the race.  I wasn’t feeling strong mentally or physically.  Every time I took a cold drink it felt like somebody stabbed me in the face.  Oh  well, it wasn’t like I was gonna win this thing.  There were some call ups for the fast people, whilst I lingered in the middle of the back half.  Then the start, the slow crawl to the line, then tearing off down the street like a bat outta hell.  Riders weaving in and out, cutting people off, sketchy as hell like they are going to win this thing.  I get run off the road and across somebody’s front yard.  Sorry, but I don’t want to touch the floor 42 seconds into the last race of the season.

Chaos continues until we get passed the elementary school and make the right onto the first section of this course that isn’t road.  Flying still, pedaling down the 2-track, a left hander and…oh we’re stopped.  Somebody crashed on the first turn on dirt.  Really folks, we’re “Pros” remember?  I don’t recall much during these middle sections of the course.  I worked as hard as I felt I could, but I wasn’t racing.  I made some passes; I probably got passed (but not much as I was already near the back).  I saw Mitch ahead and tried to reel him in, but was never able to.  I would close and he would pull away.  The last time I saw him was the sandy road.  It was actually ride-able thanks to the earlier traffic.  Made it up the road climb to the cheering masses (who had thinned after the real fast guys came through) and was working until Anita’s hill.  At the base of the wall the Pro women caught me, and zoomed by.  I stood to climb and both of my thighs said “No, we are done for the day, thanks” and I was forced to sit down and spin the rest of the way.

Around mile 8, Ain't dead yet!

 

The rest of the way was just getting to the finish.  Climbing up Woodchip Hill some youngster acutely stated “It doesn’t look like he is going very fast!?!” which was a very keen observation and something I was definitely aware of.  I think he was just in (the opposite of) awe when comparing me to the pros that came through 40 minutes before I did.

Race finished.  Time 2:00:40.  No sub-2 hr. tee-shirt. Oh well.  I was an experience.  I slogged back to camp, showered (Plenty of hot water available since everybody else finished hours earlier, Bonus #3), and ate some food.  It is hard to say now if I was disappointed with my effort.  I hadn’t experienced cramps like that before.  All I could rely on was maybe next year.

And I got to look forward to a root canal to fix that toothache….

What I Did (or Didn’t Do) on My Summer Vacation

Well, it is pretty obvious that I haven’t been updating my blog much this summer.  I guess ‘at all’ would be a better description.  I was practically begged by all of my fan (not a typo) to do an update, several times.

In light of the Iceman race last weekend, and the anticipated end of year race report, I figured I would throw together a brief montage of the events leading up to that day.

June:
Way back in June I finished up the Tour de Mount Pleasant with a couple of acceptable finishes, Cat.5 at least.  Afterwards I applied for my Cat.4 upgrade and was approved.  Some stated I should have remained in 5, other said I should have applied sooner.  Either way it wouldn’t really matter.

So to backtrack just a bit, in early June I accepted a new job in Ann Arbor and was biding my time at my current position.  The writing was on the wall there, I had not been happy for some time, began looking for a new position the previous summer.  So my days were filled with apathy, and my “Give a shit” was reaching record lows.

On June 23 was the Festival of the Sun Criterium.  This would be my first (and currently only) Cat.4 road race.  I went in unprepared, beginning my downward slide in training.  I rode a meek race, just hanging around the back of the pack, not sure I belonged and not feeling like I could hang.  Finished 17 of 25.

The next day I got on a plane bound for Florida.  A week off just basking in the sun, except Tropical Storm Debbie was in town, so it was pretty much a week spent inside.

July:
The first week of July was my last week at my old job.  Time was spent going through files, clearing off desks, taking long lunches, and of course, a day off in the middle.  I started my new job on the 9^th.  I was now spending 10+ hours a week commuting to and from work.  Basically all the hours I was spending on the bike I was now spending in the car.

Also we put our house up for sale, so the weekends were full of cleaning, decluttering, garage sales, and some home shopping (That is looking for new homes, not buying ugly sweaters off the TV).  In an effort to maximize savings I cleared off my racing schedule.  I kept the remaining USAC races as I had already paid, but many CPS and other races hit the chopping block.  Some of my favorite end of season (is this still mid-season) races were removed.  This made my schedule 17 races instead of the ~25 or so it would have been.

The 7^th was the Stony Marathon. In proper form it was a hot one.  I showed up flat.  Took off fast and crawled across the line.  I couldn’t hang with Aryn as he caught and dropped me on lap 3.  I was grateful just to finish.

The 28^th was the Tree Farm Relay.  I tried to put in some bike time leading up to this.  Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t want to let down the team.  Plus I really didn’t want to be the slowest guy out there.  We had a decent showing, but some unavoidable issues left us off the podium.

I was able to return to my apathetic ways of non-training.

August:
In the midst of selling, then not selling, then selling our house, and buying, then not buying, then trying to buy, then buying, then not buying a house, August was a busy time. 

We hit the road to Brighton on the 4^th.  The course there is decent, the Murray Lake Loop.  We hung yet again with the motor club.  Again this was not my day.  I started fast, and cracked just as fast.  Coming out of the woods on my first lap, I saw Osgood and Lako headed back in.  It was going to be a long day.  I think Pongo caught me on lap 2 and drifted away.  I hung back, jaggedly pedaling squares and wondering how much I could sell my bike for.  I think on the final lap (maybe #3) I regained sight of Pongo in the start/finish area, and tried to put in a last effort to close the gap.  Unfortunately, my lack of training meant that as my legs were pumping harder, by reflexes suffered.  I went down in a corner and basically gave up after that, eventually limping across the line.

To wrap up the season, it was back to Stony one last time.  I would have to say this could be the only place considered my home course, as this would be my third trip out, including one 12 hour race.  I went in not caring how I did.  What did it matter anymore?  The plan was just to try to hang on with Aryn as long as I could.  No rabbit starts!  As I lined up on his wheel, the Tailwind folks did a call-up.  I think I was currently 4^th in the series (due to a good showing at the stage race).  SO I moved to the front, with no intention of staying there.  We took off and stretched out early.  The first climb I usually work hard to stay in the lead.  This year I sat on Simon’s wheel and let people blow by.  I moved around Simon sometime on the first lap, and just kept riding along.  I would catch a glimpse of Aryn on occasion, and it would be enough to keep me working to stay ahead, but not enough to force things.  Second lap (of 4 I believe) was pretty uneventful.  I was still riding, passing some people, getting passed.  Literally “just riding along” that day.  I was actually feeling decent and glad to be on a bike.  On lap three I started to see some yellow shoes ahead of me.  Was I reeling in Osgood?  He must be having an off day, it happens.  I caught up to him and I don’t recall how long I sat on his wheel.  I know there was a climb at the end, and I made an effort to get by and tried to gap him.  I may have gotten a bit of distance, but he never let me go.  It was a group of 4, slightly stung out; me, Osgood, and 2 other racers from 40+.  I came through the pit area the last time and saw Aryn handing out bottles, a mechanical brought him down.

I really wanted to stay ahead of Johnny, and was kept checking to see if he was still back there.  He was.  JUST GIVE UP DAMMIT!  I “allowed” the 40+ guys to get in front of my, and worked to stay with them.  It worked well until the 2 track right before the finish.  At the right hander going towards the parking lot I saw a KLM jersey ahead, it was Lako.  One of the 40+ guys yelled “Look out Brad, here he comes.”  I hadn’t anticipated closing that gap, but the guy yelling pissed me off and I made my move.  I threw down all I had to catch, and then pass Brad.  I had figured he would be right behind me through the finish and pushed across the line.  I barely made it over to a picnic table to collapse upon, my heart pounding, my lungs burning.  Probably the most intense effort of the year.  I had no idea where I finished, but I beat Lako and Osgood, and that would be fantastic on any day.  They were already joking around and I was still breathing like a hyperventilating asthmatic breathing through a snorkel.  In the end I somehow managed a 2^nd place finish.  My best MTB finish of the year.  Probably due to the other guys winding down their seasons.

September:
Nothing much here, a couple of trips to poto after work is all.

At the end of the month was the Burchfield TT.  This would be my actual home course.  I lived about 7 miles away.  I helped layout the initial course the previous year, but did more volunteering than racing then.  Because I knew I was moving to Howell the next weekend, I wanted to do this race.

The Motor Club made the trip out, and I raced as an honorary member.  We left the gates as numbers 3 through 5; I was bringing up the rear.  Since I prerode the course that morning to fix markers, I knew what to expect.  Stage 1: Tight and Twisty, this will favor Diesel.  Stage 2: Flat and open, m only shot.  Stage 3: Flow, Aryn will make a move.  I just tried to manage my losses through the first section.  Twisty and rooty is not my forte.  Next I put it all down through the rough fields, trying to close on Aryn.  I caught him before the bridge and was working hard to stay ahead.  So hard I began a bit of dry-heaving.  I never puked from a bike, but this was certainly close.  Still trying to push the pace (and being pushed) I slid out in one section and my bike blocked the trail, effectively stopping both Aryn and myself.  He got by me as I remounted, and I spent the rest of the course working to catch back up.  We came ripping across the line together.  Before results were posted, I was back out on course riding sweep for the MiSCA kids, but it ended being a Motor sweep of the podium.  Diesel got first, me second and that other guy third.  I was just second from getting the fasted time trophy, and if I didn’t wreck (on my home field) I would have.

October:
Some more Poto.  No official training.

We made it to our luxurious apartment in Howell.  Barely room to store the bikes, let alone ride.  Season essentially over.  Motivation practically nil.

I sold my Peak to Peak entry because I didn’t want to spend the money on the only available condo at Crystal.  I guess I lucked out as conditions seemed pretty awful.

November:
And that takes us to November, Iceman, turkey, and perhaps a new start for 2013…

Forty-Seven Cats

This last weekend was the Tour de Mount Pleasant.  It was an omnium over three days, with three different road events race in, you guessed it, Mount Pleasant.

Day 1

I left work early on Friday to load up the truck and get to MP with plenty of time to spare prior to the first event, the time trial.

I checked into the dorm that my friends Kim and Dave had reserved.  Upon entering the room, I noticed 2 twin beds, for the for of us.  That seemed a bit too cozy.  But this was easily straightened out, and I headed over towards the TT start to check in.  It was a bit after 4 pm, the TT started at 5:30, and I was going out at 6:18.

I found the check-in area, although they weren't set-up yet.  So I decided to preview the course, pedaling around in my cargo shorts and Sanuk's elicited some looks from those already kitted up and riding the course.  It was just over 4 miles, and essentially flat.  There were a couple spots where you faced a decent headwind, including the finishing stretch.

Back at check in, the volunteer had a bit of trouble finding my info for the road race on Sunday, but once figured out I received my numbers, and a decent swag bag with t-shirt, water bottle and the assorted flyers.  A decent pack considering some races that cost $75 for 2 hours of riding with no swag.

Back to the room, I got changed for the race and headed out to warm up.  I grabbed a bottle to drink before the race, but some ill-informed folks though I was racing with it and advised otherwise.  I went back towards the start area and did some riding around.  It wasn't hard to work up a sweat, but I think I would have preferred to have a trainer instead of doing hot laps around the lot.  I thought about bringing mine along, but didn't think it would be worth the hassle.

Time to hit the ramp for my start. The two riders ahead of me were no-shows, so I didn't have a 30 second rabbit in front of me.  In fact I didn't end up seeing any rider ahead of me for the whole race.  I received my countdown and I was off.  I was hammering as soon as I hit the road, and instantly my quads were burning and my HR was up.  This was going to be a long 10 minutes.  Head down I charged through as hard as I could manage, just trying to keep around 24 MPH, which I felt was podium worthy.  Less than a mile in I turned into the wind and my mouth was parched.  Perhaps if I had been able to close it a bit I would have been better off.

Around the course, no issues and chugging along the final slow grade headwind to the finish and I was giving it all I had.  I finished in 10:20, for 3rd place, and an average heart rate of 193 BPM.  I circled around a bit to cool off, got something to drink and chatted with some riders.  I managed to completely forget my lil' sister was to meet me to borrow a helmet, so she ended up buying her own, which is probably better anyway.

It was then back to the dorm to change, and then some Lost Horse (roughly translated) for dinner.

 Day 2

This was an early morning race.  The crash5 riders were to go at 8 am, so I was up early for a quick bite before heading downtown to the race area.  Come to find out, starting early was a blessing, as our 72 degree temps gave way to 85+ temperatures for the riders later in the day.

This was my first criterium, and my main goal was to stay in the front, and not crash.  I ran in to Mitch and he and I warmed up by circling the short, .84 mile course numerous times.  I had to pause briefly to move my number from the right to left side. [Side note: do not wrinkle your number, regardless of what Todd Wells says!]

It was time to line up for the race.  I moved to the front row, and while we were waiting, I commented to another rider how it was my first time riding with "clippy shoes" and all of the sudden I had a little more room around me.

Once we were off, I was expecting a more frantic pace.  I stayed towards the front and just looked for clean lines.  I was getting a bit nervous as I heard pedal strikes coming from behind me on nearly every turn.  On lap 3 or 4, Matt took off on the back straight to "stretch his legs" and the group accelerated after him.  One of the riders giving chase directly behind him went into the corner too hot and skidded straight across the road in front of me, crashing over the curb.  I remained upright, but there was some carnage behind.  A couple other riders went down, and the first guy tacoed his wheel.

The rest of the race was just more group sitting together, with an occasional attack by myself, Matt, or another rider to string the group out.  On the last lap we were again coming onto the back straight and for once somebody else made a move and I jumped on his wheel.  Unfortunately that was the wrong move and 2 other riders came flying by.  I came out to chase, but they had the jump and I could not close the gap in the 2 remaining turns.  Ended up in third again (beaten by the same two that got first and second at the TT).

Day 3

The road race was the third ball of worms to top off a trying weekend of racing.  The two previous intense workouts were starting to make my legs tired, and I was looking forward to a nice relaxing day on the saddle.  Well, as relaxing as 85+ degree temps and open fields with WSW winds could be.

I was racing the 35+ group, so I wasn't competing against those whipper-snappers that beat me on the two previous days. I knew the strategy necessary to win the race: sit in for 53.9 miles and sprint at the end.  This strategy bored me.  From the start I took the pack out of town, pulling a decent pace and keeping things lined out.  Ryan came around and did the same, but when he pulled off, the group compacted into a slow moving blob and was satisfied staying that way for the duration of the race.  There were some times when somebody would come up and work, but it never lasted long.

Not to say that the ride was completely boring.  There was one rider that kept everybody on their toes.  It was interesting to see the other riders point him out to teammates with the words "watch out."  I have to admit that he must have had decent bike handling skills, because I have never seen anybody jerk their bike across the road so much and yet stay upright.  It was like he was being tased every 13 seconds (or is it tazed, or tasered perhaps?).

At about mile 15 Ryan went on a planned attack, and I jumped across the gap and we were out front working when about 5 other guys came across.  This could be thr group that got away.  We got into a rotation, but after about the third guy took a turn, the next was satisfied soft-pedaling again until it was gruppo-compacto.

There were various taunts and teases for the remainder of the course, but nothing serious.  When I got to the front I would turn the screws a bit just to try and string out the pack a bit.  This wasn't the winning strategy as outlined at the beginning of this section, but it wasn't like I was risking money.

Our group managed to (mostly) hold together as the pace and heat took its toll.  We passed a handful of stopped/injured riders alongside the road receiving assistance and many more riders that were fractured from their respective groups ahead of us.  Eventually we came to the 5k to go turn, and the pace picked up ever so slightly as the riders that have been waiting for the last 51 miles were getting antsy.

We reached the tunnel of trees, and entered around an ambulance blocking half the road.  From my earlier recon, I recalled that after the trees there was only a downhill, a road crossing, past the cemetery, left turn, bridge, railroad tracks, uphill and finish.  So, as the group exited the "tunnel" I was expecting the pace to pick up but it actually slowed, so I went for it.  I figured get the jump, see what happens and the worst case Ryan could come around in the sprint.

I made it down the hill, across the road, and by the time I was at the cemetery, I had a decent gap and was giving it all I had.  Man, that stretch in the cemetery got a lot longer since the recon ride.  Unfortunately, after the left turn all I had was no more.  I popped entering the final straight.  I kept moving as the pack whizzed by.  Just before the tracks, a rider in front of me came across from the right, leaned on another rider, pushing him into a third and they went down directly in front of me just before the crossing.  At that point, I was defeated, spent, and satisfied with making it across the line upright.

I crossed the line in 16th out of 49 starters and 43 (eventual) finishers.  Still in the top half, as if that is any consolation.  I headed over to "Race Central" and got a bottle of water, half to drink and half over my head as I cooled down for a bit.

I am in a weird spot regarding right now.  I don't enjoy sitting around for 2+ hours waiting until the end, but I don't typically race with enough team or horsepower to blow the race up and make it "exciting".  I compared the race to a game of cat and mouse, with 47 cats and 2 mice.  The good news is that I am back on dirt for the foreseeable future.

I applied for my upgrade and if it doesn't go I will have to decide how to do my one or 2 remaining races.  do I try to make it "hard" and have a challenge, or just sit around and see what happens at the end.  If it is approved, I guess the strategy will become "try to hang on'!

Surf and Turf

This report will be somewhat short, as I did not have my photographer with me this weekend, so without pictures, I will try to limit the length


Saturday: West Branch Classic Road Race

This race was added to my schedule last minute.  I was always planning on heading North for the Hanson Hills XC race, but was looking for something to fill in that Saturday, making the trip a two-for-one.  I was mostly looking into the Boyne Grind, but I could not find a partner, and I was not feeling like riding up the mountain for 6 hours, I can do that in July.  So, that left the West Branch Race.

5:30 in the morning was the departure time.  Weekends like this make me thankful for the work work, where I can sleep in a little bit.  It was misting a little bit, and cold, but I was hoping for the best.  This was one of those mornings where the only reason I was heading out was due to the fact I had per-registered.

As I drove the 3 hours north towards West Branch (figure that one out), the weather only got rainier and colder.  We arrived at the parking area with plenty of time to spare.  My initial concern was to NOT have to park 2 miles away at the soccer complex.  I went to registrations and they were still unloading, but I was able to get my number and head back to the warmth of the truck.  Huddling in your car seemed to be the norm, as riders were trying to avoid the wind and the rain.

I did wander a bit, and chatted up some folks.  That was when I spoke with a grizzled old veteran  Cat.4 that told me to try something else that day.  I had already won the previous week, so work on some other techniques.  Who was I to argue with my elders?

Shortly before 10 am, I decided it was no longer worth delaying the inevitable, and exited the truck to begin to warm up.  Really, there was no warming involved.  It was more like "slowly pedal around to delay the convulsive shivering"

10:30, and it was out time to go.  50 cat.5 riders, standing in the cold waiting to ride in the mist.  There were 3 Einstein Racing members in the pack, counting myself.  We too off, and I could say the pace was anything but frantic.  Riders were fanning out, trying to avoid the tire spray to no avail.  The wind was blowing pretty good from the west, and we were headed north.

We made the first right turn and the pace picked up a little bit.  That is picked up until we reached a downhill section then it was time to ride the brakes.  I got into a slight tuck position and shot to the front.  I figured it wasn't wasted energy if I lead the group simply by coasting without riding the brakes.

First turn South and our groups first encounter with some climbing.  The first little rollers we slowly ground over, but at the first larger uphill, I broke off the front and put some space between myself and the group.  I made it over the next two climbs before being reeled in.  But once back together, the pace slowed again, basically eliminating any thinning of the group I may have caused.

About this time, Einstein Ben pulled off to the side, I thought it was a shifting issue, but later found out it was a flat.  I wasn't sure whether to stay back with him and help him regroup, or stay with the pack.  I chose the latter.

Headed west, and into the wind, we slowly ground through this stretch before turning right yet again and hitting "the climb" for the first time.  The group strung out, and I spun up the right side making my way through the pack.  At the top there again was a slowing of the pace, allowing a regroup.  Maybe I should have gone here, but I didn't have the legs.

Right turn, headed East, I pulled alongside Ryan and asked how he was feeling.  "Pretty good" was the response, so we quickly devised that I would apply some pressure where I could, and he would come around on the last climb to win.  Seemed easy enough.

On the trip south, towards the second half, I once again went to the front.  I wasn't trying to start anything, but pick up the pace a bit.  I spun a good cadence up the final climb and made the right turn around the corner.  I sat up to let the next guy pull through, but nothing.  I looked back and had a ~20 second gap on the group.  Now, running through my head was "7 miles left, 20 MPH headwind, and a ~1 mile climb" and I knew staying off the front was futile.  Instead I pedaled along with a purpose, but not excessively hard.  This made 3 Hagerty riders come to the front and chase me down.  Once back in the group I rode in 5th position, with Ryan right behind me, and let Hagerty work into the wind.

We made the last turn and were on the flat to the finish.  2 of the Hagerty riders had popped, so I again went to the front and lifted the pace.  Part of that reason was I though I saw Ben ahead, but it was actually a CFT rider.  But this strung out the group again.  When we hit the bottom of the climb, I tried to give it all, but was spent.

A Bissell guy game around me with Ryan on his tail.  A few pedal strokes later and Ryan was around and in the lead.  He charged up that hill fresh as a daisy, and I was working to just keep the pedals turning.  I ended up finishing 7th, but was happy that Ryan got the win, his first, and another for Einstein.  He definitely was the strongest rider that day.

After chatting a bit, I loaded up, and headed to Grayling for some lunch, a hot shower and dry clothes.


EDITED TO ADD: I don't mean to make it sound like Ryan couldn't have won without me.he was awesome out there and could have won that race with one crank tied behind his back.


Sunday: Hanson Hills XC

Sunday was the annual Hanson race.  This would be my first year using gears here, and my first time riding multiple laps.  The funny thing about that is the 2 guys who I battled with at Addison (Lako and Bonnell) were there to ride SS, and not gears.  In addition, Bonnell stated after the West Branch race that he wasn't feeling like racing today, so there was a fair chance I could do well.

Staying in a nearby hotel, I was able to sleep in until about 7, and the drive to the trail was about 8 minutes.  The weather was cool and cloudy, but at least no rain.  It had stopped a couple hours before, and things were shaping up to be a decent day.

I rode a bit of the beginning trail during my warm-up, and felt like I had no power in my legs.  Thank goodness for gears, as it would be a spinning day.  Our start time was 10 am, and there were 17 riders in our group.  This is a pretty decent size compared to previous years (last year there were 4 in my group).
As we shuffled forward to the line, I was in the second row at the start.  We took off and a bunch of riders hammered to the front, and I was probably in 8 - 10th place going into the singletrack.  There wasn't much shuffling going on, but our line of riders began to string out.  I knew there were 2 Cross Country Cycle and one other rider off the front.

I made a couple of passes, and by halfway through the first lap I was at the back of the first chase group, but they had no sense of urgency, and passing was tight.  The 40-49 leaders caught up to us, and as they were making their aggressive passes, I would jump on their wheel and go.  The course was in fantastic shape after the rain, and there were areas that could be called "too fast" where you could easily get into trouble if you weren't paying attention.

I stayed amongst them for the remainder of the first lap.  The next two laps were almost like time trials.  I had no idea what position I was in, who was in front of me, or who was closing in.  At this point, it was a race of attrition.  I just kept whatever pace I could hold (read: decreasing) and reeled in riders when I could.

The third lap I was actually starting to feel better, but looking at the race data it was most likely do to my slowing pace and decreasing heart rate.  I crossed the line tired, but not suffering.  I raced with what I had, and finished.

When I crossed the line, the announcer stated I was in 4th place.  That was better than I expected, and by other accounts was correct.  I was sore, tired, and playing catch-up for a long time.  After changing, I went to look at the posted results, which again showed me in 4th.  The odd thing was that the times were off, like showing my total as 1h13m and 3rd as 1h8m, but I just assumed they were off by an hour for some reason.

I stayed around to cheer on the sport (and Expert SS riders) after their first lap, but intended on making the trip home as early as possible after a long weekend.  The began awards and when they got to opur group, I heard my name called as 3rd.  Totally surprised I sprinted (the best I could) across the parking area to the podium.  Brent handed me $30 and asked for my autograph on some form.  That was better than any medal.

In all it was a good weekend.  I am looking forward to a good rest before Mount Pleasant this weekend, after which I intent to apply for my Cat.4 upgrade.  I am not looking forward to tonight's TNR, as my legs still feel pretty dead.  Hopefully I can just hang at the back.