I suppose I should add my experience, since Arlen and Scott have already done so with such grace.  I’ll apologize for not being as articulate as those two - most of my writing consist of technical writing that’s not really all that exciting, so my literary ability has all but disappeared in the great depths of the ocean where I now do most of my work…

I pack up the car and give the kids one last kiss before I head out on the road to meet up with Arlen somewhere around the Auburn Mall.  After a few calls to figure out which parking lot we were in, we meet up and exchanged the usual pre-race banter of being ready and all that pep-talk stuff to justify another weekend away from the wife and kids.  How they put up with us is beyond me, but somehow the wife still keeps the door unlocked when I return and the kids always seem excited to ask how the race went.  We fuel up (food) while looking for directions at the mall.  We figured a book shop would be a good place to go to find an atlas of some sort that might give us an idea of how to get to the race.  Turns out the book shop at the mall went out of business, replaced I’m sure by some pre-teen cloths outfitters (based on what we saw at the mall).  So we ask a mall security guy if perhaps he may know the directions, but the best he could do was point in the direction of the mall information desk.  They, too, were of little help, so Arlen called up the Taylor’s and asked for directions, which they did and we were finally off.

After missing I think just about every turn we could have on the road, we finally made it to the park just in time for a nice quick rain shower to start.  It could have been a lot worse - the clouds were looking pretty nasty, and it could have been much worse.  We check in and pick up our welcome package - stocked with plenty of goodies for before, during and after the race.  Arlen and I spy a stack of Cliff Blocks sitting on one of the picnic tables, and ask if we could perhaps grab a few extras.  Our request was accepted, so we grab a few extra bags for the race.

After the check-in, we headed over to the Tyler’s house, which would become our headquarters for the weekend.  We checked into our room, which was graciously provided to us by Sara (at least I think it was Sara’s room - if it was Emily’s, I apologize for the error).  Once we saw the four-post canopied bed, we quickly grabbed the pillows to dual for who would have the honor.  Arlen got the better of me (his only victory of the weekend – more on that later) and he slept like, ahem, a queen.  I found my spot on the floor, later to plot my revenge for the next day…

Having decided that we were going to ride to the race in the morning, we figured it would be a good idea to pre-ride the route to the race.  John was quick to throw on the old Horst Kit, and after a heavy scrapping of dust off the old stead and a few psi in the tires, we headed out to the start/finish line.  It was a nice 4 mile ride out.  We got to the start, and desided that we were going to ride some of the first sections of the race that included some roads and some pubic trails.  It turned out to be a great ride, and Arlen and I we getting pretty excited about the race.  We tried to convince John to do the race, but he refused the offer - we’ll get him out there next year. 

So we headed back to the HQ for the night, and we cleaned up and got ready for the next day.  Meanwhile, Janis was quick at work putting together an amazing meal for us.  What’s that sound?  It’s music playing outside - kind of like the music you would hear from an ice cream truck.  Sure enough, it was - could this get any better?!  The ice cream lady pulled into the driveway, and we were all out there picking our treat for after dinner, after all, dinner was just minutes away.  We all picked our favorite for the day, and packed them the in the freezer for after dinner - all but mine.  I think mine was gone before the truck even pulled out of the driveway. 

On tap was Harpoon Ale, to go along with the steak and chicken dinner that was planned for our post Pre-Race ride.  The spread was truly amazing, with enough steak and chicken to feed a lot of hungry mouths, not to mention all the garden fresh vegetables that were offered up.  A huge thank you to all the Tylers for going way above and beyond the call!

After dinner (did I mention it was an amazing meal?) everybody grabbed their treat - all but me:(  I tried to convince the girls that they should maybe consider giving me their ice cream, but no joy.  They did, however, offer up a nice ice cream sandwich, which I just couldn’t refuse.

Art and Mark joined not much later,  and we all settled down and reminisced of the old days - John even had the old Velonews to back up some old stories of past grandeur.  We eventually relocated inside to catch some of the Olympics - hoping to catch the Phelps race.

Race day:  We wake up and the weather is absolutely prefect.  Spirits are high, and after a light breakfast, we gear up and head out to the race.  John agreed to meet us at feed station #3 and hand off our camelpacks.  He also rode over to the race with us to grab our extra gear that we didn’t need for the race.  I was actually starting to feel like a pro - having such great support is truly amazing, and I can’t thank the Taylor’s enough for everything they did for us over the whole weekend.  We met up with Scott, Art and Mark prior to the start, took in the instructions, and got ourselves ready for the race.  Art and Mark were off first, so we wished them well, then Arlen, Scott and myself (ASS) went off.  Within the first few meters of the race, we miss the first turn!  Oh man, I hope the rest of the race won’t be like that.  Fortunately, the organizers did a fantastic job of putting everything together and there were plenty of signs up to keep you on track throughout the race. 

Our first hurdle was the train bridge - I thought we had a pretty good plan for the bridge, but that didn’t factor in the tandems!.  This was the point of a major bottle-neck, and we ended up behind the tandems.  It was still early in the race, so not a huge deal, and besides, one of those tandems was our own teammates.

The first 20 miles came pretty fast, but after hearing all the reports that the first 20 are the easiest, I knew not to be over-optimistic with our times up to that point.  Within those first twenty miles, though, were some not-so-easy sections - including a pretty big climb leading up to feed #3.  We meet up with John and family at feed station #3, which was about 25 miles into the race, and he handed off the packs for Arlen and myself.  We were all feeling pretty good, so we hit the trail once again. 

We hit some nice trials for awhile, then we hit the power lines - oh those power lines!  I used to ride the same kind of trails when I was a kid in Maine, but we lived near the coast, and the hills weren’t nearly as big as what they had in store for us on this day.  We go over part of the trail and we come to another clearing - you can see that the power lines go up this huge hill that looks like it’s at a 30 % grade, but surely the trail wasn’t that way - I’m sure we would shoot into the woods at some point.  I desperately try to wipe the sweat of my classes to just barely make out the riders on the step section - yup - we’re going up over there!  Arlen notices a few minutes later that that’s were we are headed and relays the info to me - I already know. 

We get over the hill, which seems more like a mountain to me, mostly walking our bikes up the climb.  We get over, and then we go up and down a series of a bunch of hills throughout the country side of NH.  Most of it is in the woods, which is nice because it keeps the temps down and the sun at bay for most of the day.  The bugs were biting, so it kept you from spending too much time being slow/stopped.   We go through what seems like a hundred puddles, some only an inch or two deep, but most are deeper and there were a few that were up to your waist.

We made it to feed station #5 together - the original point where we were going to break our friendship pact, but we were all together doing pretty well, and there was still close to 20 miles to still race, so we decided that we would race together until the next feed.  Just a couple miles away from feed #5, Scott waved the white flag and suggested that me and Arlen go ahead without him.  So it was just the two of us, or so we thought.  Scott ended up staying with us for another 5 or 6 miles before we lost sight of him.  We wouldn’t have been surprised if Scott were to meet up with us at some point, but that didn’t happen before the end of the race.  Arlen and I still decided that we would race together until feed #6, and after some discussion, we decided that we would also leave the feed at the same time, at which time the race was on!

We come up to feed #6, and we dismount and stock up on some goodies.  I load up on those great Cliff Blocks, Arlen is chowing on something or other, trying to get the receipt from the ladies.  We fill up our bottles one last time, and I hit the port-a-potty for good measure. 

Arlen is getting anxious to get on with it, so I join him and we’re off.  I spend the first few meters talking smack, trying to demoralize my partner - the same guy I’ve been encouraging and reassuring throughout the race; that is, up to this point.  Now it’s all about who can beat the other to the finish.  My plan was simple; stay as close to Arlen on the final big climb, and if I can keep close, it would be all over for him.  He gives me an opportunity to pass before we get to the summit, and at that point, I don’t look back.  I hit it as hard as I can, and then I just keep hammering.  A short time later, we’re at the top of the mountain, and I’ve got a grin that goes from ear-to-ear!  The race is over - 8 more miles of sweet single-track or downhill.  I’m not going to say it was the easiest 8 miles I’ve ever done, but I just couldn’t get enough of it.  I quickly look over the shoulder, and no Arlen to be seen.  Time to turn on the jets, it’s go time!  I get encouragement from the riders ahead, as I pass one, then another, then another one shows up in the woods.  I feed off their pain as I dart by, with the only cramping I’m feeling now is from my perm-a-grin, knowing that Arlen is suffering, and more importantly, behind me.  Riding stuff that I know he has a hard time with and stuff that I just love.  Yes, life is good – even after close to seven hours in the saddle at this point.

Needless to say, I put a little over 4 minutes into Arlen at the end, and end up taking 3rd in class.  Sweet, I get an award.  Arlen and I decide that we need to hit the road ASAP to keep our chances of coming back alive, so I ask if perhaps I could grab my award before he hit the road.  Since there were still finishers coming in, they wanted to wait.  Ok, no big deal, we’ll go back and take a shower and on the way out maybe we could pick it up then.  Worst case, I could get it in the mail if the results stayed the same.

We clean up, give our thanks to our amazing hosts, and hit the road (this time with directions in hand).  We stop by the race venue, and as I get out of the car, I hear over the loud speaker “And in third place, Spike McLaughlin… Spike McLaughlin… Is Spike here?”  I go running over to the tent, and accept the award, with that smile still extended from cheek-to-cheek.

This was truly an epic day.  Seven hours and twenty six minutes in the saddle - I can’t wait to do it again next year!

Spike

Scott, Spike, Mark and I returned to the land of Willow and Ollie Jordon.

            The story starts out in its usual tranquil manner, with Spike meeting me at the Auburn Mall off 290/190 in MA.  I unloaded the car, packed his and we headed off into the mall for a grinder and some eye candy. After our carnal fill, we headed out to the land of  A Little More than Kin.

            In atypical fashion I left the directions to John and Janice’s house on the printer at home. Even though I have been there at couple-hundred times, the way we were heading up this time was new to me. After several panic phone calls, we reached the race venue.  Our arrival was greeted by heavy rain showers and the assurance that the course was dry and there was LITTLE mud…

            The organizers did a superior job at this race. Each entrant received a printed pint glass, T-Shirt, Cliff Blocks and hair ties. Well Spike and I did not need the ties, but the other goodies we did. Due to the entrants numbering around 150 there were plenty of extras to be had. So, Spike and I filled up on the blocks, and mugs and headed to J-n-J’s house.  Our arrival was greeted with the usual style of a movie star or the return of the Prodical Son. It has been too many years since the last time at J-n-J’s.

            After and offer and refusal of a beer, we dressed and headed out to pre-ride the opening 7+ miles of the 100km course. BTW; 100km = 66 miles in NH….John straddled his 1980’s mountain bike, as Spike and I mounted our Specialized Epic Dual-Suspension Machines. Overend, Tomac and all of Merin County would have been proud og John’s ride and shaggy legs. As we road we plotted our strategy for the following morning, keeping in mind that we, Scott, Spike and I, were to ride the first 50+ miles as a group and then the gloves would come off and the hammer down for the remainder of the race. We pre-rode for 15+ miles and headed home for food, drink and merriment. Either just prior to or during dinner Art and Mark called stating that they would arrive in a few minutes to take their places in the Tandem event. This was news to me, but very exciting. Art and Mark joined us at J-n-J’s house for the evening….

Spike and I , in a flash of stupidity decided to ride over to the course in the morning. With John in tow we headed out at 05:45 for the 4-mile dirt road ride. Earlier we had decided to have John feed us at several stations, thereby saving our backs from carrying the CamelBaks for the whole race. More later of this treat. We received the pre-race message, checked the tyres and readied the minds and bodies for this epic journey. Art and Mark went off in Wave 4 and Scott, Spike and I (SSI) went off in Wave 6.

Go…..the GUN went off, which is nothing new in the Land or Darby, NH. We were moving. Remembering back to a previous statement, SSI are all riding together. So, the start was atypical as Spike and I wanted to bolt with the early move, but alas: All for One and One for All. So, we let the rabbit go, know full well we would see then again.

The first FUBAR of the day was the bottle neck at the GW Train Bridge. We had decided earlier to go to the left, as the line was faster. Well this plan went to hell as we ran into the backend of several tandem teams, one of which was ours…..but then again we are only 6+ miles into the race and we can afford to lose a little time.  So, we passed our tandem team to never see them again, as SSI continued on our epic ride.

Traveling along now, we’re making good time. The course was we marked and contained a little of everything a rider could want: pave’, dirt roads, river crossings, giardia pools, power line walks and climbs, gravel washout climbs, bugs, mud and quagmire.  The first ray of sunshine was at feed station #1, were John waited for us to pass. Thanks John for the words of encouragement. We rode on and eventually meet the whole J-n-J family at feed station #3, were we exchanged CamelBaks, hugs, kisses and a foul stench with J-n-J. This would be the last we saw of John until the finish.

So, let’s fast forward, as I am sure you are getting sick of this and my hand is cramping. Remember the purpose of the ride? Stay together until the last 10+ miles. Well in this vein, we had the MERCY RULE; allowing a rider to call an end to the pack, allowing the others to continue. Part B. of the rule stated that there would be a 48-hour mouretorium on smack talking about said rider after the MERCY rule was called.  We that time is up. Scott called the MR some where in our 40+ mile. I heard it first and then relayed the info to Spike, who confirmed that he heard it also. So, the pack is broken and the horse can run…..Well not really. Scott, in a show of super human strength and intestinal fortitude stayed with us for an additional 5+ miles. So, somewhere between feed station 5 and 6 we left Scott to his own suffering and continued on. During this time Spike and I reworked our pack to included up into and out of Feed station 6. Here begins my downfall.

We enter Feed 6 and fill up, top off and ready ourselves to go….well not really. Spike the shopper decides to pack his CamelBak with 15+ bags of Cliff Blocks, empty his bladder and get the phone numbers of the ladies working the table. All the while allowing Scott to cut the gap. As Scott roles up to #6, Spike leaves the can and we are on our way gain: GLOVES OFF.  Spike the thinker knew he had the race. With a climb to the top of the mountain and a nearly 6 mile descent to the finish, Spike’s plans were made. As we neared the top of the mountain, without the aid of a prolonged dirt road climb, Spike and I were like to conjoined twins, well that is until the surgical team stepped. Drs. Stonewall and Roots successfully separated the twins and Spike was on his way to VICTORY, with a Cheshire Cat grin. All I could do was mourn the loss and fight like hell to get back on. Well as everyone knows, anger is the worst riding partner for the mountain bike. Anger joined me as I crashed in the quagmire, lost my way (well sort of) and mis-shifted on everything. As Anger became my Achilles Heal, Spike powered on…..

The race ends as we enter the ‘stadium’ and do one complete lap of the dirt track. Prior to us both entering the ‘stadium’ at separate times, we passed Mr. Red. Spike relays the story that he bombed by this guy suggesting that he “get on” , well he couldn’t. I then passed him a few minutes later, and smoked him on the track. Spike coming in for 3^rd (13^th overall), Me 4^th (14^th overall) and Mr. Red 5^th (15^th overall). After the finish Mr. Red comes up complimenting us on our finish strength….he just doesn’t realize how much Spike wants to beat me and how much I hate losing to Spike and how much adrenalin this ‘friendship’ fuels. Great race. We’re going next year. Party at J-n-J’s house. Now for Spike’s and Scott’s side of the story.  BTW 7+ hours and we will take off at least 40-minutes next year. Spike 2: Zane 0

This is the first post for the Hampshire 100 and it is a lazy one. Since I got mine up first, here is the link.

I know that Arlen Zane is working on one, so he should do his own post with the real play by play. I’ll comment after he posts. Mark and Art (on the tandem), Spike, Arlen, and I all had a blast. We suffered dearly in extreme conditions. More later.

I headed to Dah Rivah yesterday with perfect weather for racing;  clear, sunny and relatively dry.  I have not raced here before despite the fact that this is it’s fourth (I think) year and fairly close to home.  The course was a ~1.1 mi 4 corner loop on fairly good roads in an industrial park next to the Fall River Airport, somewhat reminiscent of the old Lincoln Chris Hind course.  Each lap featured a 4-5% grinder of a climb and, though I wasn’t enthused about that at the outset, once we got underway I realized it was within my comfort zone (mostly).

The 35+ race was first up for the day and we ended up with a resonably good sized field with day of registrations adding to the original 28 pre-registered.  Since things were running ca. 30 min behind from the morning races I got a good warm-up in and was glad for it!  Several teams were well represented including the host team (Bikeworks/Hallamore), the ‘Nauts, and Millwork 1, along with some strong individuals but it was Fuji who was (unsurprisingly) to take the dominant role.

Fuji took charge immediately with both Schultze and Gunsalus hitting the front and driving the pace for a couple of laps.  That effort was a set-up for an attack and I did happen to be in the right place to respond.  A move went on the hill on lap 3 (based on my GPS data) and had us accelerating to 28 MPH on the climb (with me sucking wheel for dear life).  We ended up with Mark McC., Ernie Tautkus and me off the front.  Unfortunately, this was where the hill got just out of my comfort zone and for a couple of laps, Ernie and Mark would gap me and I was chasing back through the downhill, not a good formula for a successful break.

After a couple of laps of that, we came back together once Mark pulled the plug on the move.  The break that finally did stick happened shortly after we came together.  Tobi got the signal from Mark going through the start finish and attacked into the downhill.  McCormack immediately moved up to the front and slowed up the pack going into the fast turn at the bottom of the downhill and that was pretty much it.  And yes, I could watch the whole thing unfold including the obvious instruction to go and subsequent block, but having been sucked into the preceeding attack, I wasn’t prepared to jump again. 

Several bridging attempts ensued over the next few laps and ultimately McCormack made a solo bridging effort that none could or at least did respond to (well, other than lots of bellowing from Norton and Co.) and then there were 3 up the road.  Around the 14-15th lap, I made one more attack into the hill and got a bit of a gap.  I was joined by one of the Noreasters going through the S/F  and we were joind by Colman O’Connor the next time up the hill.   Despite our efforts, the pack brought us back in short order.

Here’s where my race nearly fell apart.  4th to last time up the climb, I tried to sag to recover from the preceeding couple of laps, but mistakenly allowed myself to get gapped heading to the finishing straight.  I dangled a few seconds back from the pack, but figured I’d catch back on prior to the climb.  I didn’t and hit the 3rd to last climb still a few seconds back.   I determined to maintain the gap and look for any opportunity for redemption.  That opportunity came the next time up the climb.  I saw the pack fan out and slow and went hard as I could to regain shelter.

Once back in, I took a brief breather through the S/F straight then started moving into position to contest the sprint.  The right side of the pack was the best place to be while in the hill due to a cross-headwind and I managed to pull myself up close to the front for the turn into the sprint.  I picked up a few more spots to catch 7th in the bunch sprint and 10th overall.  Not a bad salvage considering not much more than a lap prior I was dangling off the back.

Of course, once done with the masters, I had to get prepped to race the cat 3’s.  I had originally been planning for a 1 h recovery.  However, that turned to 30 min, owing to the delays from the morning and the fact that low pre-registration saw to the elimination of the P/1/2/3 women’s race.  Thankfully, the promoter actually provided some nice support perks.    A cooler full of FREE Vitamin water (which, I hate to say, I wouldn’t otherwise drink) saw to rehydration needs and FREE power gels at registration got some sugar back in my veins.  By the time we lined up I was feelign almost human again.

I figured, despite the high likelihood that a break would succeed (the fresh legs joining us included Bill Yabroudy), that I was going to sit in the pack and recover.  Sure enough the break went off fairly early.  And of course, eventually I had to make a bridging attempt, but managed only to dangle out in no-mans land with no company.  So, I again contented myself to sit and wait.

Based on the 35+ experience, I did find the perfect mix of sagging on the climb, but being able to gain back nearly all the spots by taking a fast outside line through some rough pavement on the fast back strech that most people shied away from.  So, with about 2-3 to go, I started getting myself into position for the bunch sprint.  Somewhere along the line, I latched onto Curley’s wheel and followed his moves to keep towards the front. 

By this time I was also starting to fight the cramps.  Each time I stood, I found myself making quick position changes to avoid the start of a lock-up.  With the threat of leg lock, I took the “when in doubt, lead it out” option.  Coming into the final turn, there was a momentary hesitation in the pack and I jumped.  I kicked it up through the gears, but with nearly 400 meters from the corner to the line, I couldn’t hold off the wolves.   8-9 guys ultimately popped around me and I rolled in at 13th overall. 

BTW, the best back-handed compliment of the day came when I was OTB coming through the S/F in the 35’s and I hear the announcer saying something to the effect of: And this is Gary Aspnes off the back of the pack.  This is unusual to see with such a stong rider, we usually expect to see him on the front.   Ah, the frisson of the ego boost contrasted with the shame of having the world (at least the most important part at that moment) know you are getting dropped.  After that, I HAD to claw my way back…

As most of you know, this is a great route if you’re prepared to do some shorter climbs and one steep wall for 63 miles.  This year the climbs didn’t kill me as in the past, and I stayed safely in front most of the time.  I wanted to test the legs for GMSR, and I think I got a B+, maybe an A-.  If I can only figure out why I can’t sit in the saddle squarely and fix the problem, I’d be golden.  Been struggling with this for 3 years now despite trying almost everything to correct it.  Just can’t generate equal power with both legs, and I think about it all the time.  I feel the loss of power most when hammering on the flats.  I know most are tired of hearing me talk about it, but it’s still a major limiter.  I’m using Esoles this year but no major changes.  John Interlandi (Stage 1) suggested them and while there nice, still not the solution.  I was stretching like crazy for a few months, but still nothing.

The field quickly shrunk after the 1st lap but kind of regrouped on the flats.  If we drove the pace after our group got away that would have been ideal, but like Hillstown the group didn’t and that was frustrating.  I suppose the fact that there were no big teams there to take control played into it.  Second time around and the field shrunk again and then it was a battle between 20 guys or so (35+ and 45+ combined).  There were a few good moves that seemed to have a chance, Bill Thmpson in many of them, but the field had the horsepower to pull them back.  I used up a lot of energy helping out but felt strong enough to assist.  Last time up the steep wall and I was about 4th wheel, behind Troy, when Funk hit it hard at right before the top.  We had a little split but it came back together shortly after.  There were many attacks after the wall all the way to the finish.  Troy made a strong move followed shortly after David Taylor and one of John Funk’s teammates.  The 3 of them motored away and looked to be extending their lead as we approached the finish.  I dug really deep with Robert Latanzi and Dan Staffo (JW Dundee’s/Home Performance), and we managed to bring them back, just barely.  A guy from out West, no-one knew him, countered and got the winning gap as the field didn’t respond.  Dam!!  That was a good move.  As we approach the finish, my left foot cramped and I did the best I could to sprint but got passed by Joe Reagan and another guy at the line.  I’m pretty sure that I got 6th but it was a bit confusing with a few 45+ guys there as well.  I’m still undecided about GMSR as I think I’ll be lonely without my teammates.  I feel very good and probably should do it, but might not be fun.  It’s all about having fun!  Later.

There, now that pretty much says it all right?

Yeah, somehow I convinced myself that it would be a good thing to head up to Salem and race tonight.  I was feeling pretty energized and psyched to race whn I set out on my journey, but somehow that all got lost on the way.  I suspect most of it was lost spewing vitriol at my fellow motorists and the (un)civil engineers responsible for creating the highway system  around the Boston area.  Now, after sitting in traffic jams on I-95 near both RT 3 and I-93, do I realized why I enjoy working and commuting around SE CT.  But I digress…

I left early enough that I had a sufficient buffer to make it by 5PM or so.  I must’ve been the 12th registered day of (#83) so I was in (others were not so lucky).  I got a really decent warm-up, but just felt like I was missing just a bit of snap.  Never mind, I’ve felt that way before races and lo and behold, once the race starts the legs feel good and I can get to work.  Today wasn’t one of those days. 

Overall the race was fairly fast, though not blistering fast until the last few laps.  Nothing got away, so it was a bunch sprint in the end.  I finished well back in mid-field nowhere near the money.  A decent speed work-out on not so decent pavement.  I’d think twice about subjecting myself to Boston Metro area rush hour traffic to do this one again.  I certainly wouldn’t subject myself to Tokeneke 3 days before it if I DID do it again.

EH 12 August 2008

Paul, Wade and I lined up for the Tuesday Nite Worlds. The field was not the largest I have seen, maybe around 25 or so. The usual perennials were there minus TU.  In his absence the race started without the usual salvos and we eased into. Tonite was going to be 45-minutes +5 laps. I was concerned, as I had done an earlier lunch Hill interval workout, but I was willing to accept my fate. After several attacks and counter attacks, an 8-rider break got away. Pulling through and looking over my shoulder I realize that we have the numbers and quality to make it: Wade, Henk, Todd B., Aidan, CCNS #2, C3 Rider, Ian Sinclair and me. We settled into a good grove and started to put time into the ever dwindling field. With around 10-minutes left we made contact with the field, but in the process we dropped CCNS#2. So, the seven us are now going for the win. I go right to the front, as I wanted to pull the break thru the field, but alas that was not to be. I settled in near the front, as I was expecting Aidan to rocket off with a few to go, but he did not. With 2-to go, Matt S. got on the front and ramped it up some. We come into the bell lap and I am sitting second or third wheel. We go into the final turn and Ian jumps, and I don’t respond well enough and he gets the gap…I sprint to the line, coming in third in the sprint, but luckily the second place rider was the lapped Aki. In conclusion it was a great nite for Horst, as we took 3-of-5 preems, a 2^nd place and Wade’s finish in the top 7.

Finish:

1, Ian Sinclair

2, A.Z. Wenzel

3. Aidan Charles

4. ?

5. ?

6. ?

7. ?

8. Aki

Wade rocketed out so quickly after the race, that I am not sure of his placing. Wade?

Felt really really bad today and barely hung in there.  This was my rest week and my legs, and everything else were closed for the day.  Probably should have skipped racing today but I paid my $35 so did it anyways. To make matters worse, my car battery died this morning so I had to bring the family along and didn’t get a warm-up.  The race starts and Gary and Mike Norton are away trying to get to the climbs with a little lead.  I decide to jump and get to them, which I do, but the pack comes back as we’re flying downhill.  I figure i need to try to open up the legs a bit before the climbing starts.  We hit the climbs and I know this ain’t going to be good.  My HR is pegged and the legs feel bad.  I am forced to ride steadily but I can’t do anything but sit in.  Roger Ashlom and and I believe Johnny Bold and maybe another guy get up the road and are n sight for much of the race.  Zane tries to encourage me and i do my best to hang in there.  As the climb continues, I am able to just barely able stay in the front group but just manage too.  The group was much smaller now and the front guys keep it rolling.  We hit the KOM climb and I finally get my legs back a bit and am one of the first over the top.  I’m not sure where Zane and Gary lost contact but I’m the lone guy from our team.  Celtic (Gerard), 2 Target Training guys, CCB (Ciaran), and Bethel (Joe Reagan), CVC (Mark Paggiolli), and few others were riding very strongly.  Mark and 2 other guys got away a bit on the KOM and were in the 2nd chase group.  Funny, Mark asked me if I was ready to go with him before he attacked on the KOM, and I said not today.  Thanks but no thanks!!!  He was pretty impressive today.  Our group worked pretty well on the downhill and caught Mark and the other 2 in his group but lost it on every climb.  Roger and Johnny were in sight but I knew chances are we weren’t catching Roger on this course with the way he’s been riding.  I felt better the second time up the climbs but used too much of my reserves the first time around.  I was dead weight.  Bodin and Ciaran attacked before the final climb and held it to the end.  I crawled up the hill watching some big dudes get away from me.  I was happy to finish but am still hurting and it’s 7:00PM now.  Recovery weeks are good and bad I suppose.  It was “fun” out there today!!

If I had my druthers, I would have raced in Concord yesterday.  However, based on scheduling, Bow was the only race I was going to get this weekend.  I last did this race in 2004 as a Cat 4 and suffered so miserably that I didn’t really ever want to do it again.  I did remember the way there and headed right for the start-finish only to find it was not there! 

It turns out that as of last year, they made a slight course change.  When I back-tracked to the intersection at the fire station (where you used to make the fast  right turn to the finish)  I realized that the course now goes straight and found the new S/F at the High School.  After talking to a few people prior to the start, I got the general feeling that the already hard course was made harder with the new route substituting a “brutal” climb followed by a descent and another little leg breaker before you descend a bit to rejoin the old course near the top of the long drag before the old KOM climb.  Other than that, it’s the same old painful course.

With extremely unpredictable patchy cells of rain threatening, we got off about 15 min after our scheduled start time.  The 19 pregregistered had swelled to a whole 27 bodies with day of registration, so there was no real room to speak of for sagging.  Our first time up the “brutal” climb was neutral and then racing started, so, first lap I was right there with the group.  I hit the KOM climb near the front and sagged most of hte way through and then some, cresting not more than 5-10 sec behind the group, not a good sign for things to come.  2 riders had also managed to get away at this point, so technically I was chasing the chase group.

Thankfully there is enough downhill after the climb that I was able to get back in the group before the next little kicker.  I kept up the sag climbing  and manged to finish the first lap at 3rd wheel going into the brutal climb.  Well, that one was just a bit too long and the field too short.  By the time I hit the base of the KOM, I was ca. 40 sec behind the group.  By the time I crested, I couldn’t see them anymore.

Well, I chased as hard as I could, but only managed to catch one CCB rider and then managed to lose his wheel on the last climb before the descent to the S/F.  Meanwhile, the skies had started to open up a bit and I got a pretty good soaking on the descent.  Funny thing was not 5 min later, rolling through the S/F, the pavement was dry.  That gives you an idea of how frenetic the weather was.

The CCB rider chose to head to the cars, but I figured, hey my entry was paid for, so I may as well suffer through.  I headed once more up towards the KOM.  Just as I started up the final pitch, I heard rumbling and looked east to see a solid black mass of clouds.  I finish off the climb and Sandy is sitting up top telling everyone thanks, turn around, your finish is the top, tuen around and go home.   Evidently the cat 3 leaders (who had just passed me on the climb) ended up with their finish as the KOM and the P12 and the rest of the masters finished up that lap at the s/f (thus the 32 mi races for both fields on the bikereg results). 

All in all, it reconfirms that Bow is a brutal course.  That and I am not the team climber…

So, see you next week for Tokeneke.

Since I’m off to CA tomorrow AM and won’t be doing the big “race”, I decided to branch out a little this weekend.

Last night I did the Sandy Beach Triathlon in Litchfield (on Bantam Lake, near the infamous Rowland summer home) on a team. A former student, now PE teacher did the 1/2 mile swim, his friend the 5k run, and I did the 10 mile TT. Our swimmer came out of the water in 28th, I passed 27 people on the bike, and our runner cruised home in first with a sub-18 5k. My TT time (no major hills) was just a hair under 25 minutes, and based on last year’s times, it may actually have been the fastest bike split. Go figure. Me. Mister Time Trial.

This morning I rode for an easy spin out to Pleasant Valley and did the People’s Forest 7-Mile Trail Run. This was my first trail race ever and I’ll have to say that my trail running descending skills are probably about the level my mountain bike descending skills would be, if I ever rode an MTB. That is to say, poor. I cruised on the uphills, only to get washed away on every downhill. Still, it was a blast and I managed sub-10 minute miles for a finish time around 1:07. Scott was there too (and Deb and Shep were on the course a couple places to cheer us on!) and he turned in an enviable 55-minute time. The winner was some ridiculous time like 43-44 minutes. That’s crazy fast. The guy must have no respect for his ankles.