Race Report: Turtle Pond 2010 cat 3: GG Bavolar Works The Break

The real race report is on the team blog. I have just a few short comments. Nonsense really.



My job was to either get into an early move, and then if the early stuff failed to stick, sit in and sprint. As always, if we got a man in a promising break, I'd control the front, breaking up any chase efforts and sitting on and thwarting bridge efforts.


As Gary states in his report, I expected Embrocation's Rapha celebrities to be a factor in the race, as both PVB and Mr. Dunn can climb well and have deep hardman credentials.

My early moves didn't stick, despite having some good company on a couple of attacks.

After what I decided would be my last attack of the early laps, a big group went up the road. It had over 10 riders and representatives of most of the stronger teams present, CL Noonan, NEBC, Threshold and 2 Svelte riders. I found Gary and asked him to bridge to the move. He jumped and succeeded in getting into the group.

At this point, there was confusion at the front of the peloton. With all of the strong teams represented up the road, no one was willing to pull. The pace slowed considerably. PVB and Jeremy Dunn drifted to the front and I told them that it was their job to chase. They laughed me off, pointing out the the move was still in sight. Since I am good friends with PVB, I explained that I was serious, that the move was likely to stick. I was hoping that he'd take the hint and try to bridge up to it while that was still a possibility. He didn't. PVB and Jeremy spent the rest of the race fruitlessly attempting to get away (every chase was quickly marked and neutralized) from a slow peloton, trying to get a paceline started and grumbling about how much the situation sucked.

Since the break was gone, I started resting for the sprint for 13th. Man, I really wanted to finish 13th. I still chased down bridge attempts and remained vigilant at the front, but I sagged on the big climb, allowing myself to drift from the very front of the group to the very back, sometimes even loosing contact, knowing that someone would work with me to get back onto the peloton within minutes.

On the last lap I made arrangements with Dave Montes to stick with me on the climb, so that he could pace me back to the main group when I allowed myself to get dropped. Uneventfully, Dave and I got back into contact and went to the front so that we'd be in position when things started heating up.

Spaits made a few promising attempts to attack the main group in the last lap. At one point he got away with a small group that included Jeremy Dunn. They took a wrong turn, or failed to turn and thus lost their advantage.

A few attacks were reeled in. Nick Mashburn worked the front, chasing moves down. He was clearly working for Svelte sprinter Mike Sabatini, as Sabs was sitting in while Nick kept the group together.

The sprint was textbook. Svelte and CB were at the front, ramping up the pace in the final 2k. I had instructed my teammates, Dave and Spaits, that all I needed from them was to keep me out of the wind up until we were done with the fast descent and inside the 1k to go mark, which they slayed themselves to do (Thanks Dave and Matt). I then marked Sabs's wheel, tucked in and waited, as Mashburn was giving him a fast leadout from the front of the group, that put me in 3rd wheel with 1/2 a kilo to go.

Since the sprint was slightly uphill, I waited an extra few seconds before jumping. When I did go, I had the road to myself. I felt like I was going to win 13th place. Then, as I came screaming toward the finish, I noticed that there was a traffic jam of pace and follow cars stopped on the finish line, in my path of travel. I sat up. As much as I wanted 13th place, I didn't think that it was worth crashing over. I coasted in 15th.

GG stayed in the break and got 8th. Gary has been having a rough season on top of his thwarted cross season, so I was glad that he was able to get into a successful move. While the team may have been hoping for a better result, I am happy that most of our race went according to plan and that Gary affirm that he can hang with the tough guys of cat 3 New England road races.

Winding Trails Fat Tire Classic--How Many Ways Can RMM Suck in One Day?

I’ve been busy. Too busy to train. In fact, my training calendar was so sparse earlier in the Spring that I considered hanging up my road season instead of repeatedly wasting time and money in getting dropped out of easy races. More on that after Turtle Pond next weekend.

Mountain bike racing is different. Even if you finish DFL, you still get to complete the race and feel like you did something. Also, bike handling can often trump pure power, as is demonstrated season after season as road cat 4’s without an upgrade points stick it to soon-to-upgrade road 3’s weekend after weekend. But this offers me no reprieve, as the saturated trails have kept me from riding offroad much. So really, I was showing up to this mtb race with every disadvantage possible. No watts, no handling.

I rode to the race with Greg Whitney and Mike Wissell of Back Bay Cycling Club. I figured that driving to the race with faster off-road riders would make me fast. While their skills did not rub off, it was a pleasant ride where we discussed diverse topics such as: getting punched in the mouth, mixed martial arts fighting in the military, German scat porn, gambling in Thai sex clubs, skateboarding, neuroscience, METAL , fixed gears, Bicycle shops in Boston and Freds. Overall, interesting conversation.

Prerace was relatively uneventful, with the exception of preride. A number of riders, including myself, mistakenly thought that the previous race was over and we went to preride a particularly steep climb that occurs about 3 minutes from the finish (though I was unaware that this section was so close to the finish at the time). We jumped on the course and encountered the one deep nasty mud bog. We dithered and complained about getting our dry goods dirty before the race and were soon overtaken by other riders. I asked them if they were racing, while they were about 50 meters away. Here’s where the trouble starts:

A certain angry Cape Cod masters rider who I have seen unrepentantly interfering with cross races in progress was coming though (At Coonamesset 2008, he was loitering on the course in the logic line out of a corner during a race and when this fact was politely pointed out to him, he offered to punch the polite commenter out [I was not the commenter, nor did I comment]). I asked him if he was racing so that I could clear out if he was. He yelled at me to “get the F--- out of my way!” even though all of us were already off to the side of the trail at the time of my inquiry. I may or may not have called him a douche bag.

He verbally threatened me, using my last name. But he did not stop racing (at least he has priorities). I expected to get punched in the face on the starting line of my race. Since this didn’t happen, I expect that there will be some entertaining drama in the near future, as this dude is known to get into it (I have seen him in heated exchanges a number of times), maybe even more so than I am.

Back to the race. The start is a slight downhill into a sand section, where there is often crashes. 100 meters in there’s a rise, almost a climb which leads into some windy single and double track, which a good description of the course. My plan was to stick to the left of the course, as it was less loose and also offered a hard pack line on the climb, instead of the loose gravel and sand. I also planned to take the hole shot and blow up.

Wissell got the hole shot, I missed a beat clipping in. I get through the sand and climb drama free in about 7^th or 8^th. At corner 1, which was more than 90 degrees, a rider crashed, slowing several more riders. I rolled through incident free, now in the top 5.

I rode hard, made passes, got repassed. It hurt. The short story is that I blew up about ½ a lap into a 4 lap race. I was so slain that I almost pulled. In fact if the parking lot had been there at the moment when the parachute came out, I would have went to the car and cowered (and probably have received my punch in the mouth).

I tried to fake it. I rested and concentrated on not wasting energy and staying off the brakes. Riders streamed around me. I conceded to all of the riders in my chase group one at a time. The next group got me and I hung in for a bit, but at this point, I was in oxygen dept and handling the bike poorly, recovery was coming slowly and quite incompletely.

The course itself is twisty fast hardpack. There is no gnarly terrain, so bike handling should not have been a factor. In fact Wissell tried to reassure me before the race by saying that “there are few rewards for good bike handling on this course.” Little does Wissell know how poorly I handle a bike when I am out of practice and/or tired.

On the flats and climbs I was gaining ground, but as soon as there was a root or a turn, a gap formed. When people were on my wheel it was downright embarrassing. I started letting people by so that I could ride their wheel for a bit. Soon enough, I was getting passed by riders from other fields, since I was now riding DFL in the 30-39. I was passed by the 40-49 leaders. Single speeders came by me with little effort, scoffing at me as I hit the sissy switches before easy corners.

The race felt long to me. Last season I was a cat 2, racing 3 laps on most courses. Cross races are only 45-60ish minutes. Most crits are about an hour. 4 laps of mtb biking is more hard riding and self abuse than I am used to. Add to this my detonation at half a lap in and you can imagine my misery for the last 3 and half laps.

Wissell broke a chain, blowing a likely podium, as did good friend Cary Fridrich (Embronational) in the PRO race. I am not sure where Greg finished in the PRO race, but surely well.

I finished my race. Normally, I race bicycles. Yesterday, my performance was more akin to the hordes of people suffering through the Boston Marathon with no chance of placing, no real concern with their time, their only goal to finish and have a story to tell--“I finished the Boston Marathon”--and to get a $2500 Boston Marathon branded warmup jacket that they can where to running club events.

The race wasn’t a total loss: I was slapped in the face by my inadequacies, which helps me know what to work on when a precious afternoon unexpectedly frees up; I have a tongue lashing and possibly a punch in the mouth coming my way in the coming weeks; and I made a couple of friends, Greg Whitney and Mike Wissell are both solid and interesting dudes, who I hope to share a few more rides with soon.

Sh-- Happens--Thoughts on Crashing

The unspoken truth is that we all crash eventually. Some of us more often than others. If you race for long enough, dumb luck is going to run out and the odds are going to get you.
Sometimes it is entirely your own fault, as when we overcook the final corner in the last lap of the local criterium. Other times it is clearly someone else’s fault, like when that idiot overcooked the final corner of the criterium and crashed out half the field.

Even more complicated is when you are crossing wheels and the sketchy rider in front of you swerves into your overlapping wheel thereby taking you out. Sure, dude shouldn’t be squirrely in the pack, but neither should you be crossing wheels, especially with the guy with the black, baggy, possible-non-bib-shorts, the unshaven legs, and the oversized non team issue jersey. Most crashes fall into this category--indeterminate blame.

A couple of recent events have brought me around to my current reflections. Firstly, my good friend and fellow competitive cyclist, Colin H. Murphy sustained some serious injuries during the Tour of the Battenkill. Reports indicate that Colin was in the lead group of the cat 2 field and riding well. The rider who’s wheel Colin was on apparently hit something in the dirt road and swiftly took out Colin’s wheel. Knowing Colin, even if the rider in question was clearly at fault, Colin is likely not harboring a grudge.



I mention Colin to illustrate how quickly our sport can deal you a crappy hand. One minute you are in position to get a great result in a prestigious event and the next you are being hauled off in a meat wagon and kept in the hospital for an extended stay. Colin: get well soon.

Secondly, a few weeks ago at the Wells Ave training criterium, there was a horrendous crash in the last lap of the A race. There was a 10ish man break up the road and the field was winding up for a sprint. I was near the front, sitting in about 3rd or 4th position glued to Kyle R. Smith’s trusty, fast and steady wheel with about 400 meters to go. We were in the inside lane in the middle of the long steady final corner.

Adam Myerson, came by me and was overtaking Kyle. Adam was not yet sprinting, but he was getting into position. As Adam passed Kyle, Kyle and another rider (I believe Corner Cycles) both moved to get on Adam’s wheel, as Myerson was the fastest sprinter in the pack. Kyle and the other rider collided. It should have been a simple shoulder bump, but the other rider lost control and crashed (the pavement is not great, which easily could have contributed to the loss of control). Kyle remained upright and unflustered.

Since Corner Cycles was in an inside lane and near the front of the pack, he took out about a dozen riders. In the end, 4 riders left the race in ambulances and 2 on backboards. According to hearsay, all of the crash victims seem to be healing.

While this crash was unremarkable, it set of a round of accusations. Over social media, Adam Myerson was blamed for the crash.

Obviously the crash was even more ridiculous when you consider that this was a training race AND that the top ten were up the road. This was a perfunctory sprint, entirely pointless.

I was there; the whole series of events occurred 3 feet from my front wheel and directly in my line of sight. There was no way that the crash could have been Adam’s fault. Nor do I believe that it was Kyle’s or the Corner Cycles rider’s fault.

It was dumb luck. Part of the game.

We all play the game and we know the risks. And we all make mistakes sometimes. These mistakes can have dire consequences for our friends and rivals alike. But even the sketchiest rider isn’t sketchy on purpose.

I am not sure of my point here. I am the first to bark at a sketchy rider. I am also the first to apologize for my own transgressions.

I guess that I am asking for you to be careful out there. We all race often, sketchiness will eventually cause its logical consequence. Whatever you are sprinting for; 10’s of dollars, muffins, a medal, a jersey, or swag, it is not worth putting yourself or someone else in the hospital for. But, sort of like Bob Dylan said, "everybody must get..."

Race Report: Myles Standish Road Race Cat 3 Race 2010

CB had largely boycotted Battenkill, though our cat 3 teammate, Ryan O’Hara podiumed without the help of teammates. While Ryan was riding to glory, the rest of the CB cat 3’s were attempting to dominate the Myles Standish. We showed up with 4 rested and ready riders: Spaits, GG Bavolar and CB new jack Dave Montes.

I was not meant to get into a big break. My job was to cover the early moves and then sit and rest up in case there was a field sprint. We assumed that one of my stronger teammates would counter the early moves and get into a promising move later on. The race was only 24 miles long, so we assumed that the pace would be plenty fast.

The course is a rolling 2ish mile loop with a short punchy “climb” about midway through. The course is mostly glass smooth with mellow corners requiring no braking. There is a fast downhill left hander into the official’s area. On the final lap, riders were directed to a dedicated finishing area that forks off to the right at the bottom of the fast left hand descent.

My job was to cover Paul Curley. Curley and the Gearworks/Spinarts team were favorites, since they had 5-6 strong riders and decades of experience.

Off the starting line, Svelte’s Mike Sabatini and I created a two man break, which Sabs pushed with some seriously intense riding. The field chased us down quickly despite Sabs’s effort.

Upon reintegrating with the peloton, I quickly found Curley and sat on his wheel. Within minutes, a Gearworks rider attacked and I marked it (honestly I can’t remember that it was Curley, but it may have been Borello). The break quickly coalesced into 5 of us: Luke Fortini, Gary Aspnes (Benidorm), Borello (Gearworks), Curley (Gearworks) and myself. We were out of sight of the field within a couple of laps, which was surprising.

From the getgo, Benidorm did most of the work, taking long, hard pulls, Fortini and I took pulls and sat in when tired, while Gearworks mostly sat in. Curley took slow pulls, was slow to pull through and generally disruptive. Borello mostly tailgunned, taking occasional pulls.

Before the race, I had heard that Gearworks would be working to set Greg Vigneaux up for the win. Gearworks clearly didn’t want the break to succeed. Aspnes, Fortini and I decided to rotate pulls without Gearworks. I dropped back a few times to cajole Curley and Borello into working. Knowing that the shrewd, often cutthroat Gearworks riders had 40% of a 5 man break was disconcerting enough, the fact that they weren’t working was downright upsetting.

At one point, I told my breakmates that I wouldn’t work anymore unless Gearworks also refused. I was tired. I am not very fit. Furthermore, I hadn’t planned on getting into a successful break…in fact I even thought of joining Gearworks in sitting in order to bring the break back in order to allow Spaits to get into a more promising move. As it stood, tired and unfit as I was and forced to work hard, I knew that my chances of actually winning were thin.

I wasn’t getting gapped on the 45 second climb, but I was feeling it. I made sure that I came into the climb 2nd wheel so that I could take my “pull” up the hill, thus controlling the climbing pace, while fulfilling my obligation for taking the pull.

As the lap cards ticked away, I kept looking back, expecting and hoping to see the peloton chasing us down. But it didn’t happen. There were only 25 racers, 5 of them were in the break. At least 7 of the riders in the peloton were teammates with the break. There were no other teams with the manpower to organize a chase, so the chase was lackluster at best.

Once we were within a couple of laps to go I started thinking about the finish and how it would play out. I considered attacking the break, but I was not confident in my ability to hold off the other riders for any amount of time. This left me riding defensively. The question was what/who to cover.

Aspnes attacked at the top of the downhill receiving the bell solo. No one reacted; he got a gap. I sat up. About a quarter of the way through the lap I pulled up next to Curley and said “It is going to humiliating for you if he [Benidorm] wins, with you guys having 2 men in the break…its not mine to chase!” I got on Curley’s wheel as he got out of the saddle to begin the chase.

Fortini sat in thoughout this short chase. Fortini attacked the hill and got a gap. Curley hesitated. Again, I taunted him, truthfully telling him that I was unable to chase Fortini down. Curley rode away from me, making contact with Fortini shortly after the climb. I gapped Borello.

Curley and Fortini caught Aspnes about ½ a mile from the finish. They all hesitated for a minute, jockeying not to lead it out and I dug in to try and catch them. They started working after I had closed about half the distance, 150 meters. I held on for 4th, still far out of the peloton’s sight.

Benidorm led the 3up sprint. Curley jumped, Fortini was coming around Curley in the right gutter in the last 100 meters. Fortini claims that Curley drifted toward the curb illegally, thus shutting Fortini out. Fortini (2nd) protested with the officials. Curley 1st, Aspnes 3rd. I wasn’t close enough to see it, so I won’t venture an opinion.

Back in the peloton, Vigneaux was apparently chomping at the bit to break away. Team mates had to talk him down a number of times, explaining that it would be poor form to chase his own team mates break if he brought others with him.

Vigneuax eventually got away solo, finishing 6th.

As for my thoughts on my performance and that of my team mates: we played it as well as we could. While I was not supposed to be the winning break guy, I was. I wish that one of my stronger teammates had been there instead of me. The lesson that I learned: If you get in break, you need to be prepared for it to go the distance. If you plan on sitting in on it and causing it to be brought back, do it early and decisively.

While I needled the guy throughout the race, it was a pleasure to watch Curley play his hand well. He feigned weakness at every opportunity, while likely the strongest rider there. As I have stated before, you can learn a lot from Mr. Curley.