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.

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.

Race Report(s): Northampton Cycle-Smart International cat 3 2009

As always the photos are courtesy of my lovely wife

I went in to NoHo feeling good. This was one of my "A" weekends, so I had built my training around being fit and rested for these races.

There were a number of goals for this season and most of them revolved around beating friends who have consistently bested my in the past. The list and results are as follows:

1. Rosey-beaten at Green Mountain Cyclocross/VT Verge (and others)
2. Yash--Green Mt.
3. Sebastien Dumont--Results swing back and forth
4. Cary Fridfich--New Gloucester--Both Days
5. Colin Holmes Reuter--10/18/09 Wednesday Night SuperPrestige (obviously, this isn't a sanctioned event, but I take what I can get)
6. PVB--10/18/09 SuperPrestige
7. Colin Holmes Murphy--Never

As you can see, prior to this race weekend, I had accomplished most of my goals for the season, including podiuming in a Verge race (twice). But Murphy hung out there. Colin has been smoking me so badly that he doesn't even show up as a rival on my crossresults.com page.

The Racing--Day 1

I got there early, warmed up and thoroughly inspected the course. I was confident that I was going to put forth my best effort.

The race was relatively uneventful. It started fast, I was near the front and stayed there. Riders attacked and few got away. On the first or second lap, I found myself gaining on CHM.



I caught him on the run up and then rode his wheel for a few turns, hesitant to throw down the gauntlet with so many laps remaining.




Soon, it became obvious that I would travel faster if I took the initiative in the corners and handled the rooty sections with an unobstructed line.

I waited for Holmes to take a corner wide. I turned a tighter radius while carrying more speed. I accelerated before Holmes was able to. I got a gap.

Photo courtesy of Josh Garlich

Eventually, I saw Holmes and Rosey start working together a few seconds back. This scared me.

Sometime near the end of the race, I was riding with Evan Huff. God damn it. I have been beaten in the last lap of uncountable cross races by this dude. Usually by less then 3 seconds, sometimes 10ths of seconds. He is becoming my white whale. He bested me for the last paying spot, 5th to my 6th.

I held off Murphy. Sad though it is, this is currently the highlight of my season.

Overall a good day.

Day 2-

With Murphy bested and Cary in the Verge leader's jersey, my goals for the race should have been minimal. But during preride/inspection, I began to believe that it was my day. I got that nervous feeling that you get when you can taste victory. Anyone who has ever targeted an event and then been confident about their chances of a really good result knows the feeling I mean.

Again, I was in the top 10 in the prologue loop. The pace was super high. Attacks were coming thick even before we entered the first lap. It was my day. After Chris Laflamme had settled into the front of the lead group, setting a high pace, I attacked the straight away leading to the sandpit.

I entered the sandpit alone with a small gap. I had ridden into the pit "step through" style fully intending to dismount with momentum and run the sand instead of risking a crash and a first lap pileup. Others behind me rode the sand faster than I was able to dismount/run/remount. My attack was absorbed and answered within 30 seconds of my initiating it.

I was still in the lead group, but taking on water. I watched Huff, Laflamme and Murphy ride away from me, as if in slow motion. It wasn't dramatic, a gap just opened and grew. I could have slayed myself to stay with them...but I chose to stay back. It was still lap one and many matches were being burned. I figured that those dudes were racing like fools. They all ended on the podium.

The rest of my race was tame. I'd get in a group, ride wheels in the straights and get in front on the upper deck. I maintained position. The weight of the Verge leader's jersey had pulled Cary back. I could see him chasing on opposing sections. Again, Cary is no joke. He kept me honest in the corners, helped me keep the hammer down.

On the last lap, I was in a group with Mike Wissell, James Morrison, and a local named Jeremy, all solidly inside the top ten. On the upper deck, I gapped them by taking a good line through the roots.

I went super fast down the launch ramp and came into the S turn after the RR tracks too hot.





I made the first corner but my line made it impossible to negotiate the second. I tried to cut hard left to correct. I had a full speed crash. While my file treads gave way easily, I beleive that I would have crashed with any tires. The impact was loud enough that me and my bike slid so far that people started running over. Friends went to get my wife. Morrison asked me if I was OK as he passed, the tone of his voice implying that he believed that I wasn't.

I got up, pissed. I wasn't hurt. But I was pumped full of adrenaline and annoyed about loosing spots. I passed Wissell in the next set of corners and got on Jeremy's wheel. I attacked him, but he countered and wouldn't let me get the advantage. Jeremy rode me off his wheel and outsprinted me for 6th. Morrison was out of sight.

7th is a great result. But it wasn't my day. I have no scratches, cuts, bruises, or marks as a result of my last lap crash. Maybe it was my day.

Race Report: Canton Cup 2009--Elites

$750 paid 10 deep draws a crowd. While most fast riders may know that someone fast like Justin Spinelli will show up to take first, they think they are fast enough to at least make their registration fee back. There were about 40ish fast dudes on the starting line. Everywhere I looked was a dude who's definitely faster than me. And even the rare rider that I have beaten before, had also beaten me. On the start line, I was more concerned with not finishing DFL than finishing in the money.

Also, this race was declared as the LCC unofficial championships, since it is one of the few races where all of us were able to race in the same category. Lining up to contest the LCC Cup were: Kyle Smith and James Morrison (both of whom made the foolhardy decision to ruin their chances for LCC glory by racing the B race prior to the elite), PVB, Colin Holmes Murphy, Scott "Rosey" Rosenthal, Cary "The Mantis" Fridrich and honorary LCC member, Colin Holmes Reuter. While we had a quorum, we were upset that LCC founder Yasushi was not present to officiate the proceedings. Apparently he was caught up in an anime nightmare that involved costumes, carbon fiber and may or may not have involved hallucinogenics.

Canton a grass crit punctuated by a few sharp rocks and roots to flat your tires. And it was windy as hell. Group riding is key if you were going to achieve a good result. Either that or ridiculous Watts.

I had a good start, for me anyway. Which means shit in an elite race. Dudes are fast. I was probably tenth going into corner one. I fell in behind Reuter and mucked it up for his cameras by getting inside of Peter Sullivan's wheel-folding-crash which Colin was right on top of. Then Colin and I fought it out for a few corners until he got a gap and a wheel and I got relegated to no-man's-land.

Justin Spinelli was having mechanical issues; we'd all pass him while he fixed his issue, only to have him come storming by a minute later. This happened at least twice. Getting on his wheel was not an option. He eventually pitted and finished second to Justin Lindine.

Cary and both Holmes's were up the road. Morrison came by and I hopped on his wheel. He took a pull that lasted like a lap and then pulled out, waving us through as he pulled off the course. In retrospect, I think that he knew that he was pulling out and he was attempting to pace me up to the 10 man train barely visible up the road. Thanks James.

Thom Parsons raced in costume. I'll post photos as they become available. I only mention it because at one point he almost caught me. Nothing motivates like potential humiliation. While everyone knows that Thom is fast, no one wants to get pimped by the dude in a costume. I dug deep and got away...at least that's how I remember it. Maybe he passed me and I shut it out similarly to how adults are often unable to remember traumatic childhood events.

I passed a few riders with mechanicals, mostly flats if I had to guess. PVB, CCC, and Guenter Hofer, all of whom would have put minutes into me had they better luck. I always feel guilty passing fast dudes after they mechanical; I sheepishly apologized as I passed.

I spent the rest of the race soloing in the wind. And it was seriously windy. I literally 10-20 seconds behind Mike Wissell for 4-5 laps with no one behind me. I rode hard but seemed to make no headway. Wissell had already rode the 3/4 race earlier, so I was exhibiting extra suckage by not catching him. For most of the race, there was no one on sight behind me, which made it hard to keep the effort up at times. Matt Green slowly closed in on me. I overcooked an easy corner, picked up a shrubbery and lost enough time that Green got close enough to strike.

I got his wheel when he came around and we caught Wissell. The 3 of us attacked each other repeatedly in the last lap, which made for some exciting racing after riding solo in the wind for an hour. Green, RMM, Wissell in that order.

LCC Results:

1st Murphy

2nd The Mantis

3rd Rooter

4th RMM

5th Rosey

6th PVB (flat tire)

DNF James Morrison

DNF Kyler

Verbal reports indicate that my LCC rivals up the road were smart enough to take shelter in a various groups. I've taken note and will race smarter next year. Good job everyone. We should do this more often.

Race Report: Mansfield Hollow Cyclocross Race: A Winner

Most race reports focus on the race and the action therein. This post represents a departure from the (my) normal format. While I will roughly outline my race, I think that my readers will appreciate my observations about the race in general more than my usual ramblings about my performance in comparison to others’.
This race has received many good reports from friends. It was highly recommended. With 3 other races in immediate driving distance on the same day, rider recommendations tipped the scales toward Mansfield Hollow.

I wasn’t disappointed.
From the moment you arrive until when you reluctantly leave, it is clear that the organizers of Mansfield Hollow race love putting the race on and are concerned that you enjoy yourself, whether you are there to race or support/watch a racer. The organizers had a huge table/tent with free homemade pastry (including cupcakes), coffee and hot cider. They made sure that everyone knew about it. Racers were encouraged to have a hot drink, chat and eat a brownie. And when stuff ran out, they restocked it! I should mention that the cookies and brownies were great. There was even a cup of coffee for the road after the last race.
There was a prime on the first lap of every race. A pair of Tifosi sunglasses. The first rider to go past the dude in the chicken suit won the glasses. The chicken moved all over the course, so it was unpredictable and great. Furthermore, there were signs all over the course, “Cluck, Cluck Cluck,” “Where’s that Chicken?” etc. When you were in oxygen debt, these signs become puzzling. Nice effect.
And one of the organizers (sorry, I am terrible with names) circulated around when top riders were collecting their prizes and pay. He wanted to know if we were happy with what we got! Seriously. After having so many promoters grudgingly hand me a gargantuan sized Vanilla Pepsi T Shirt and some expired Clif Power Bars (real talk), I was shocked that an organizer cared so much what I thought of his prize package. For the record I received $40, a cyclocross specific tube, a Men’s Medium Louis Garneau rain cape (which fits well and replaces the one that I misplaced at Gloucester), a cycling magazine (commuter focused) and a pink LG mussette bag for my 3rd place in the men’s 2,3,4 B race.
Then the organizer asked how we liked certain sections of the course. While we were discussing this topic, I was made to feel like he would actually take MY suggestions into consideration when laying out the course next year.
The races all went off on time and ran smoothly.
The course is conscientiously laid out, taking note of feedback from prior years. The effect is a fast, challenging course that has a great combination of power sections interspersed with some sketchy off cambers turns and long deep sand sections and a ridable runup.
My race went off as expected. I shouldered my way though gaps in the staged riders from the last row to about 2nd/3rd row. While it may have offended the riders who had left me room to do it, this turned out to be the best move that I could have made.
I was about 5th after the initial shaking out. There was a huge crash on a long off camber section behind me that took many riders out of contention for a top placing. After the race, I was told that 2/3’s of the racers were forced to awkwardly dismount and run a long section, which caused them to lose considerable time.
By the end of the 1st lap, I was in 3rd and chasing hard on second place. 4th was nowhere in sight, so I didn’t bother thinking about getting overtaken. Every so often, Rosey and I would pass each other on opposing sections and I’d get worried that he was reeling me in. I’d grit my teeth and drop a cog.
Meanwhile, 1st was burying us, eventually putting more than a minute into the rest of the podium. Basically, I spent the whole race yo-yoing behind 2nd, about 10-20 seconds behind. In the sandy running sections, I would gain a couple of seconds, then I’d bobble a corner or the ride up (I had trouble with traction on the climb since I was running file treads). In the final lap, I dug in and closed the gap considerably. On the final grassy straight away, which was about 500 meters, I laid down some serious power (feeble by objective standards, but for me it was WATTAGE) and really started closing it down.
My competitor was cooked and had sat up, thinking that he could just mail it in. Someone cheered for me, causing 2nd to look back. He feebly got out the saddle and gave it just enough gas to hold me off. I passed him 10 meters after the finish line. I am convinced that I would have overtaken 2nd before the line if no one had caused a ruckus. In retrospect, I should have made my move 500 meters earlier. Live and learn.
After my race, I went over to the goodies table and ate more than my fair share of brownies, while the locals offered me more. I was getting cold fast, beginning to shiver. A nice lady fixed me a hot cup of coffee. I was thanked for coming out to race at every opportunity. I considered doing the Men’s Elite race, but by the time I felt recovered enough to truly make a decision, the big boys were staged and getting instructions. I changed out of my damp chamois and began cheering encouraging things to passing racers.
Though not very emotional, I was touched by the genuine happiness of the locals at this race. They clearly loved hosting us. They were gracious and friendly, quick to offer a smile and to help you out if they could. While I knew that I had been missing the grassroots, local races, I had forgotten why. Mansfield reminded me. These guys aren’t putting on a race to make money, to get UCI points for Pros or to promote a product. If I had to guess, they are putting on the race because they like to see people race their bicycles. My second guess is that they plough any profits back into the race.
This race is a winner.
Mansfield Hollow is already on my calendar for next year.

Race Report: Green Mountain Cyclocross Weekend Verge 2008 Cat 3

All photos are courtesy of my lovely wife over at Pedal Power Photography.

Saturday's race saw sunny and warm weather and a dry grassy course. Sunday was misty and damp, with course conditions deteriorating quickly.

I got to the starting line of Saturday's race feeling amped. I was rested and ready. I had a good deep warm up. I was quite nervous since I felt confident that I would earn a respectable result.

I had a lofty goal for the 2009 season: beat my friend Rosey in any fair race (no mishaps or mechanicals). I have never been able best him in any cyclocross race. Every time that I have tried, I have crashed or ended up blown apart and limping in for the last few laps.

Rosey got the hole shot. He was 15 seconds ahead of me within the first 30 seconds of racing. I was in OK position after the first climb and the initial corner. Perhaps 20th. I raced smart and remained within my abilities. I have been finding that it is better for me to burn matches to remain near the front of the race in the first lap, but not to try to lead the race. My new riding cyclocross style is to settle in and reel riders in over the course instead of killing myself to ride top 10 only to detonate and slide back.

Most of my first lap was uneventful. Little shoving and jostling. Almost no words exchanged. I made a few passes. Corey Lowe came blowing by me about midway through the lap. I briefly considered getting on his wheel, since he usually finishes a few places ahead of me, but he was pushing a pace that would have left me destroyed.

There was a slight divot or gutter in the corner leading into the barriers. Going into the barriers I was about 10th. I unclipped and tried to ride into the barriers standing on my pedal. I was coming in too hot and the gutter jostled my bike into a skid; I immediately went down. I was able to get up quickly, run the barriers, and remount as if nothing had happened, but when I remounted, my chain was derailed, which required me to dismount awkwardly and put it back on. I slipped a few places and lost about 30 seconds.

Angered, I rode fast. I passed people in corners while they rode their squealing brakes. The sound of grass ripping accompanied me as I chucked my pedals as I pedalled through sweeping corners.

When I got to the the runup/rideup, my competitor's were running feebly. After mountain biking for the entire summer, I was easily able to ride over the three logs that prevented road cyclists from riding this section. Every time that I crested the top of this climb, I took back a little time on the people ahead of me or further shut the door on the people behind.

The rest of my race was fairly standard. I suffered. I put in efforts to catch riders ahead of me. I wanted to drop out. I prayed for the bell every time that I came through the start finish.

I made it a point to dose my efforts in the parts of the course where it would yield me the most speed. For instance, instead of blowing my wad on the climb leading into the rideup only to scrub all that speed on the off camber 90 degree turn going into it. I eased back a little shifted into the appropriate climbing/clambering gear and put in a huge burst over the logs.

In the last two laps, I reeled in a lots of riders. All through the race, my teammates had been calling out my position on the road to me when I crested the 3 log ride up. Steadily I went from 17th to 15th to 13th to 11th to solidly inside the top ten. I reeled in Rosey. I didn't say anything as I passed him. He looked hurt.





Taking the hole shot often does not pay.

I also reeled in Mike Wissell of Back Bay. At the Hodges Village Dam MTB race this summer, my A race of the mtb season, he put over 5 minutes into me (I rode a good race too!). So passing Wissell was a highlight of Saturday (and Sunday's) race.

I finished 7th. My good friend Cary





podiumed and Rosey hung on for 10th. The wife was on the podium in her race. My 2009 nemesis/friend Sebastien Dumont bested me with a 5th place result.

On another note, cat 3's who finished near the back of the race were prematurely pulled. The Verge organizers have decided to run the junior's race at the same time as the cat 3's, giving the juniors a 2 minute head start. When the juniors were "lapping" slower cat 3's, the officials were pulling the cat 3's so that the juniors could have a "clean" finish. While I don't begrudge the junior's their race, it is unfair to curtail the race of someone who has paid good money to race because they have been caught by another field that started minutes ahead of them.

I know that many cat 3's were quite upset that they were pulled. From a solid source, I heard that these disgruntled riders vented their rage on unrepentant sandbagger, Brian Wilichoski by booing him and yelling insults as he crossed the line in first place.

Furthermore, I caught junior riders all through my race, as did the leaders of my race. I had to negotiate passing them, as did the leaders. The juniors were polite and made room, but nonetheless, they were on the course at the same time that I was. The presence of these juniors could have also interfered with our finish, but no one (me included) would suggest pulling them of the course.

Sorry for my digression. Day one was a success. I felt that I rode well. Obviously, I am upset about my crash and the fact that I lost 30-45 seconds to it, but overall, the race went well and yielded a better result than I would have predicted for myself beforehand.

Check back for photos and a race report from day two.

Race Report: Hodges Dam Village Dam Race 2009

Beforehand/Background

Perhaps I am delusional. Or perhaps I have am hyper averse to sandbagging. All summer I have maintained that I would be upgrading after this race. This season, I have consistently placed top 5 in Root 66 cat 2 races, podiuming most of the time. My plan was to rest up and slay this race. It is the Mtb Massachusetts State Champions and I like gold medals. But we all know how that goes, planning on slaying a specific race...

While this is my first season racing mountain bikes, I have raced this course the previous two years with my wife. It has become sort of a tradition with us. She is more involved and interested in mountain bikes while I am more into road. Obviously we both share a love of cyclocross. But this race has become "our" race, since it is the only mtb race that I have done before this season and I used to do it in order to race "with" Natasha. I usually do well on this course, so I was confident.

Pre race there was little drama. The wife and I (who I had to prod and cajole into racing [she had hoped to upgrade before this race, she didn't feel good, she isn't trained], in fact, I had to give her registration money in cash in order to finally convince her to prereg) arrived about two hours early. We dressed, ate, got numbers, warmed up and prerode the first third of the course without incident. I felt good. Normally, I show up to mountain bike races after hard training weeks, sore and already broken. Today, I felt supple and relaxed.

Earlier this week, I learned that Scott Rosenthal planned on racing the cat 2 race with me. I consider him my prime nemesis. In anything off road, I can't beat him.

When I was riding back from preriding the course (against the course direction), I passed Rosey going in the opposite direction. I felt that we were close to start, so being the gentleman that I am, I asked my opponent how long til start, indicating that we should be heading to staging. He assured my that he had time.

On the start line I was more nervous than normal. But no Rosey. I looking up from my fidgeting and adjusting, expecting to see him barreling the wrong direction down the starting straight. No dice. We started without him.

The Race

I didn't get the hole shot. In fact, I was about 8th in a tightly packed line heading through a long packed sand straight away. The lead rider tried to turn onto a trail that wasn't part of the course. He nearly took down Michael Wissell of Back Bay and caused major confusion.

After I settled in, it was clear that riders ahead of me had overextended themselves; I didn't want to overextend also, so I sat tight.

At about 3/4 of a kilo in, there is a slight kicker with loose gravel and sand. I should have used a match to gain a place or two, because the guy who's wheel I was on bobbled, which forced me to dismount, as I was riding his wheel way to close. Luckily, I dig hard when I run up and was able to pass him there even though he was riding and I was running.

The first single track section runs through a severely degraded forest. I suspect that sections have been recently harvested for lumber. The trail alternates between single track and twisty, gnarly dirt work roads. Most of the sections have a clear line that is smooth and flowy some with berms. The shoulders of the track are rideable, but bumpy and rooty. Passing in this section was possible but difficult since we were riding fast, the trail snakes around and undulates and when you built some speed to make a move, it was often squandered when you came off the smooth line to pass. I remained tight on the leaders' wheels through here, but was growing antsy, as I had gas in the tank and opponents were stacking up behind me.

About a quarter of the way through the lap, the trail becomes bumpier and somewhat slippery from a recent shower. There was a split in this section. 3 riders got away and I found myself behind the two riders who allowed the gap to form. I wasn't happy with the pace and was infuriated to see that I was getting gapped. No one was on my wheel. I panicked. I started darting into any offshoot that looked promising only to find the increased momentum causing me to bump around wildly. After 3 expensive attempts I settled in, planning to pass at the forced walk.

Yes, you read that right. There was a forced walk this year. There has been an over abundance of rain this season, and while most of the course was dryish, it seemed to become more saturated as the lap progressed. This first of four water sections was a flooded stream. Apparently it was deep. They had thrown a bunch of pallets in the water, called it a "floating bridge" and stationed a marshal there to make sure that you didn't try to ride it. Getting onto the pallets required you either to leap over 3-4 feet of deep water and risk slipping on the partially submerged wood or step up to your knee in the water and then up onto the sinking, sloshing pallets.

It paid to keep running after the floating bridge since remounting in the ensuing mudpit with its slick longitudinal roots didn't seem like the best way to clip in and build momentum.

After trying to pass for a mile or so, I was finally able to power around the guy ahead of me while on foot right after the bridge. Of course I did a wild cyclocross remount right in the middle of the trail to insure that he knew I was serious and so that he'd think twice about passing with my legs flailing about. I had to fight hard to keep my spot. He fought back and started playing chicken after we were back on the bikes. I yelled at him not to chop my wheel. He chastised me for passing him. I had the front and the advantage, but he took a few digs. I am no stranger to knocking handlebars, throwing elbows and shouldering. It didn't come to that. After he figured out that I was assertive, he backed off. When I finally dropped him, he was gone, long gone.

Now I was bearing down on Maison Chen whom I have been battling all season. I powered around Maison on a slight rise, apologizing for how close I cut it. I didn't endanger him, but it was a bit narrow. I had the momentum and there was a tiny space...

I dug deep to create a gap. Half of dropping someone is quickly creating that gap in order to break their spirit. If someone hovers in front of you, you'll be tempted to reel them in and pass. If they quickly ride away from you, you know you are bested and you sit up.

I got a 15-20 second gap inside of a kilo. The trail left the rocky section and fed onto a flowy, but slick and tacky section. I was still in the red zone intent on getting out of Maison's sight. I slid out and fell on a wet diagonal root at the top of a roller. This was not a tricky section. I literally riding far above my limit, with the vomit in my throat and seeing cross eyed. I just didn't see it. Of course it took a few seconds to untangle and remount. In my panicked mind, I had conceded the race to the 2 chasers. In reality, I got up quickly, recovered well and rode even faster.

There are a number of single track and also work road sections, all rather flat. These were good riding, but uneventful. I powered hard on the work roads, putting my roady power to good use.

But, but there were flooded stream/swamp crossings. There were 3 or 4 sections of trail/road that were fully immersed under water. They were all more or less rideable, but the water came up to my knees in one of them. One of the others had hidden rocks and ruts under the murky water that would knock you off balance unexpectedly. These crossings/wadings, didn't present a problem, but they were noteworthy. After reading Sweeney's rants about trail maintenance vs. abuse and about mtb race organizers losing venues because of trail abuse, the routing seemed ill advised.

There were a couple of sections of deep mud. One was about 20 meters long with roots. I ran this. The other was basically a deep divot on the trail filled with squishy mud. It had a high root on the other side. Visually, it looked like you could ride over it, but your whole front wheel sank in up to the quick release (26 inch wheels) and was unable to get over the root. I hit it every lap. First lap I made it through, second I endo'ed and bounced out of it while dabbing my foot, last lap I lost my front wheel and went over the bars. I can't be sure, but I think that it was getting deeper every lap.

The second lap was uneventful until the start/finish where Rosey was loitering in street clothes. He told me that I was 8 minutes down on first place. 8 minutes in two 30ish minute laps! Who the hell is this sandbagger? Well he is actually a friendly acquaintance of mine, Mike Wissell of Back Bay. I prerode the course with him. He was telling me that his upgrade requests have been denied by USAC since all of his results are at local races (read Root 66) instead of larger national events.

Mid Race Report Rant

I didn't realize that the new strict "national level event only" upgrade policy was in effect for cat 2 to 1 upgrades. Jesus Christ. To reiterate Sweeny's complaint (one amongst many): it doesn't matter who enters a local race and how much time you put into them, a Root 66 race is a regional race and results from those races can not be used for upgrade points. Let's use an example. If I beat the current cat 2 national champion in a clean Root 66 race (no mechanicals) and I had other Root 66 podium results, no matter, they will not allow me to upgrade.

Thanks USAC, thanks. Now I will have to explain to everyone why I am still racing cat 2 despite podiuming almost every race. Thanks. (Note: I am sending in an upgrade request later today. I expect that it will be denied)

Back to the Race

Seriously, my whole race happened in the first lap. After that, I kept the pace as high as possible and wished for death. I became sloppy in the second lap. I didn't crash, I just noticed that my lines weren't as precise and that I was hitting roots and rocks that I normally would have avoided. I passed a number of riders, most of them from other fields. Some may have been from my field, but I wasn't keeping count.

I finished strong. Sloppy, but strong.

Oh and I beat Rosey. He got to the Start late. He claims to have been putting a dent in the 6 minute deficit when he ripped his derailleur hanger off after either failing to change his chain or using a chain that was too short (his text left the details unclear). Getting to the start on time and maintaining a bike are part of racing, so I will call this my first win against Rosey offroad.

I rode as good a race as I am able. Every race I handle the bike better, becoming less of a roady and more comfortable off road. I kept my power high throughout, evenly dosing my effort so that I was able to finish strong.

I finished 4th. While would have preferred to win, but I rode a good race and I can't complain.

Reflection

So, I guess the question that we have to ask is this: Do I deserve an upgrade? I can't seem to win a cat 2 race. I never finish outside of the top 5, often 2nd or 3rd. I am consistent, but I consistently don't win.

Also, I am now 2nd in the Root 66 series. I am behind Maison Chen by very few points (under 10). Considering that he has never beat me, if I don't upgrade, I could very possibly win the whole series if I show up to the rest of the races and achieve decent results (better than Maison by a couple of places). Considering that the highlight of my 2009 racing season has been winning a prime by coming around Colin H. Murphy (after he dragged me around for 3/4 of a lap) at Wells back in early April, I could use the results to affirm that I am actually racing bikes as opposed to just pinning on numbers and getting dropped.

The Wife

Natasha, on the other, hand killed her race. She finished way ahead of her nearest competitor. She is the Massachusetts state champion. Last year one of her season goals was to win this race. She took second behind Rebecca Wellons (to be fair, RW was forced to race Sport since that is/was the highest cat you can race with a one day license).

Since I paid her registration fee, drove her to the race and because I have been considering buying one, Natasha gave me the Blackburn Airstick 2 Stage mini pump that she got for winning today. Seriously this is the actual pump that I have checked off on my next group buy order sheet. Even though I got 3rd in the state, one could argue that I won, since I got to make out with the female state champ and took her prize as a present.

Race Report: Tour of the Hilltowns 2009

If you know me, you know that this is not my kind of race. I can attack rollers and 3 minute climbs all day, but put a real climb in front of me and I wither. Despite the course's not suiting my skillset, I have raced Hilltowns 3 years in a row. It is one of the few selective, single loop hilly races in New England. If the word wasn't so overused, I may even call it epic.

The course is fairly simple, though quite a ball kicking 55 miles. Starts with a 20 mile descent/flat, turns onto East Hawley Rd (which is usually refered to as "The Infamous East Hawley Road Climb" when mentioned in print or IEHRC). After the IEHRC there is a decent, then some rollers and finally a grinding 10+ mile false flat broken up by short upkicks leading to a 1km finishing climb that feeds to a corner and then 200 meter to the finish.

The Race (before I got dropped)

Matt Spaits had aspirations of doing well in this race. Our team really couldn't figure out a way to help him other then keep the race together before the climb and then, if one of us was in his group, keep him sheltered and fresh for the finishing climb.

The start of the race was tame, smooth roads, fast descent. As usual, Leo Desforges was trying to start a break and various players covered, so he got nowhere.

About 12 miles in, the road surfaces deteriorated considerably. Chip seal, long longitudinal cracks and deep pot holes dominated this fast section. It was much worse than anything that Battenkill throws at you. Bicycle parts were breaking left and right. I saw a rear wheel explode, spokes hitting the frame, so far out of true that the wheel locked up; water bottles everywhere; riders swerving all over the road to avoid obstacles at 35-40mph. The wheel car ended up many minutes behind the peloton sorting out the carnage.

Both Threshold riders and about 5 others opened a gap on the first sketchy section. Immediately, I saw the danger. I commented to Jordan that we needed to get a man up. I knew that the road was bad enough that the main group was at a disadvantage to an organized break. Even if the break lacked organization, I knew that Leo would just pull them all away from us.

I slowly advanced to the front of the pack with the intent of bridging. I didn't plan on working in the break, merely sitting on the back in order to either cause them to stop working and bring them back or so that I got a free ride to the base of the climb ahead of the peloton. At this point, the break was clearly visible and within my ablities to bridge to.

There was a textbook sweeping left hand turn (no brakes needed) and some idiot in front of me basically locked his brakes up. I went from 3rd wheel to the back of the pack in less than a second. To top it off the road got even worse and much faster. This descent was bad enough that any prudent rider would avoid it even when alone. In a scared pack it was terrifying.

I am a mortal and a pussy. I don't take huge risks when road conditions are this bad. I remained with the pack, but every time that I dove into a gap to advance, I hit a jarring pothole or found my carbon tubular buried in a deep longitudinal crack. Eventually, realizing that no matter what I did, I wasn't going to win, I backed off and rode conservatively.

At this point the break wasn't visible. My teammates, in the confusion of shattering bikes, flats, lost water bottles and teeth rattling chip and seal, thought that I had bridged to the break. They wouldn't have blocked for me either way, knowing that I would get shelled on the climb, but they also didn't chase even though they had firepower massed near the front. By the time they realized that I was relaxing in back, it was too late to organize an effective chase. No other teams took any initiative either, despite CB's considerable cajoling.

On the first roller I allowed my momentum to carry me through the slower riders and was able to arrive at the IEHRC in the front 4/5 of the pack.

The Goddamned Climb

My plan was to stomp the pedals until I literally blew up. Normally on a selective climb, I back off before implosion so that I have gas in the tank to catch the front group on the descent. Normally, this strategy works out fine, as there are always a few determined sprinters to work with. This never works at Hilltowns. The descent is not steep enough and the roads are fairly straight and smooth, so the advantage is with a big group instead of a smaller one.

Basically, I was blocked or stuffed. I had no punch in my legs. I was dropped early, earlier than normal even. I wasn't even able to push hard enough on the pedals to bring myself to cardio vascular exhaustion and nausea. I am pretty sure that I was the last non mechanically delayed rider over the climb. I didn't have to swerve all over the road or anything, but I was slow.

My excuse is that I did some hill work on Tuesday, but more importantly, I went on a very hard (at least for me with my lack of handling skills) mtb ride with Colin R and Cary on Wednesday. In fact the ride was hard enough that I was limping all day Thursday and I still have pronounced bruises on my quads from going over the handlebars (normally, I don't bruise).

The Rest of the Race

I descended as fast as I could, but I never saw the peloton again.

I overtook a few riders. I worked with people briefly, but seemed to gap all of them on rollers and rode away from them. I wasn't trying to drop them, they just must have dumped it out on the climb.

The final false flat section was miserable. It climbs slowly into a moderate to severe headwind. I was overtaken by the master's front group and a couple of chases. I was struggling to keep a respectable pace seriously wondering why I enter races like this when I know that I am going to finish alone and 5-15 minutes off the leaders. There is nothing more frustrating than riding 12 mph in your drops in the little ring. 10 miles of this made me hate riding bicycles, not to mention racing them.

At the base of the climb, I saw D'Alessio of Threshold ahead. I didn't dig deep, but I rode faster than I would have if no one from my field had been up the road.

I caught him near the top, sat on his wheel and attacked him in the final corner. It was too far. It was the longest 200m I have ridden in awhile. D'Alessio came around me with 25 m to go. Colin Murphy claims that I was sprinting with my hands in the hoods, which may explain my crappy sprinting performance (though I doubt it).

Aftermath

Spaits and Ryan were within throwing distance at the top of the climb, but weren't able to make contact. The break stuck and as far as we all know, Leo Desforges was the first Massachusetts rider over the finish line, which makes him the category 3 Massachusetts State Road Champion. Congratulations Leo and to Threshold, well played, seriously well played.

Race Report: Pat's Peak Mountain Bike Festival Cat 2 30-39 2009

I hate mud. I hate it so much that I don't even own mud tires. My bike and my team kit has an excess of the white colorway. Secondly, I hate roots. I suck at descending. Roots covered with mud have haunted my dreams since I began regularly racing mountain bikes this year. Roots covered with mud on a steep descent are enough to transform me from my normal placid self into a raving lunatic, which is exactly what happened today.

Pats Peak has lots of climbing, which suits me. But the flipside is: what goes up...

Earlier in the week, there was intelligence on the HUP wire that only 75% of the course was rideable. Then my beloved and I were awaken in the early am by a rollicking, rowdy thunderstorm. I can't catch a break. After months of rain in New England, I figured that I was finally going to get a moderately saturated race course as opposed to the fully and supersaturated courses that we have come to expect now that we are on the same weather circuit as the Pacific Northwest. Did I mention that I don't own mud tires?

The venue itself is luxurious compared to many MTB race venues. The ski lodge was open and air conditioned (though not freezing), huge clean bathrooms (seriously the bathrooms were clean after 1.5 days of racing), multiple bike washes, ample parking, well run snack bar with decently priced well presented food and a PA system that was audible in the entire parking/lodge/staging area. Seriously good showing Pats Peak, thanks!

The course had been abused by 24 hour, 12 hour and 6 hour races Saturday and lower category XC riders all morning. By my noon start the course was seriously degraded.

The course started on an steep squelchy uphill. If you got out to the saddle, you spun out. I didn't get the hole shot, but I was in the lead group or 3 or 4.

The first 5th of the course is not very demanding, comparatively. There is some twisty slowsingletrack, broken up by saturated traverses across the grassy ski slopes. There were plenty of opportunities to bobble, lose traction, get bogged down and generally waste energy. I did all of these and still kept the leader in sight, Tim Trottier of Claremont Cycles. I trading blows with the Root 66 series leader and eventual winner, Craig Kennedy, from the starting line. I'd falter, he'd come around me. I'd catch him on a flat or a climb, come around him, open a gap, then falter again.

Kennedy and I traded blows and reeled in Trottier on the first significant fire road climb, permanently shelling the rest of the field in the process. Wisely, Craig allowed me to ride tempo up the climb and then only attacked me right before the gnarly singletrack. I didn't think to dig in and remain in front, though knowing my bike handling skills, or lack thereof, that would have been a serious dick move.

This section housed a plethora of roots growing in all directions. There were longitudinal roots to force your line. Roots running perpendicular to the course in tight off camber corners to throw you off of your line and kill what little traction there was. Did I mention the mud. Everything was covered in thick sucking mud. It was super slick. Furthermore, it was deep in the low lying parts.

Tim caught me and I allow him to pass uncontested. After gamely trying to ride this section several times, I settled on the humiliation of a run. I ended up nearly regaining contact while Trottier picked his line and I just long strided while wheeling my steed. My degradation in to 2/3's of a triathlete allowed me to keep the 2 leaders in sight.

I took some time back on the second major climb. This climb was a real spirit breaker. It ran up a steep winding fire road. If you picked your line well you could avoid the saturated grass. But as will happen, I'd sometimes have to correct and end up squandering my momentum by spinning my wheels in the mucky grass. To top it off, at the "top" after 100's of vertical feet of climbing, it curled to the left into the woods, but when you got to the left, you saw that you were actually little more than half done climbing.

The first part of the descent was manageable. It ran perpendicular to the ski slope and while fast, it didn't offer many threats otherwise. I was able to keep Tim in sight.

But then conditions changed rapidly when the course reentered the woods. It started out loamy and winding with a few roots to negotiate. Then it got steep and fast while the root multiplied. Everything slick with mud. Many of the corners had devilish off camber sections with slick roots running perpendicular, like tracks to help your tires loose purchase. I lost minutes in here.

After many minutes of struggling and riding the brakes, the course fed onto a series of fire road descents and comparatively less difficult single track. I dropped many hammers, convinced that the leaders were just ahead. I didn't catch any sign of them.

The finish is a cyclocross style downhill, complete with course tape and grassy off camber turns. It fed into a finish area with a big inflatable Red Bull gate right in the logical line coming into the finish. Seriously the course tape feeds you into the Red Bull gate. When you see a big gate while riding fast, you ride through it, right? We had been warned not to ride through the Red Bull gate while we were staged. Sure they warned us, but would you remember to veer out of the logical line to go under a gate off to the side? Yeah, you can make a mental note. But are you going to read that Post It while the snot is flying, while you are trying to claw back mere seconds from riders who had been sticking it to you for weeks?

Sorry, I just follow the arrows and course tape. Every indicator on the course told me to ride into that gate. I never even looked up to see who sponsored the gate; I was too busy trying not to vomit on myself.

I ended up getting balled out for riding into a spectator area. There was no tape to stop me, no person to guide me. I threw a curse word studded tantrum while I corrected. I am ashamed to have ruined Mike and Kathy Rowell's pre race lunch with my antics. Sorry.

There was tape on the next lap. But I still hate Red Bull.

Lap 2 and most of lap 3 were uneventful. I overtook riders from other fields and no one passed me. I ran when it was faster. I tried to stay off the sissy switches in the rough stuff and on the descents. Obviously, I was miserable and considered dropping out, which is how I knew that I was riding hard enough. Any point where I began enjoying myself or thinking of anything other than vomiting or dropping out, I shifted into a harder gear and/or increased my cadence.

I saw Trottier's yellow and green kit up ahead on midway through the 3rd lap, near the end really. He was blown, swerving all over the climb(s) like he was delivering the mail. I slowly reeled him in, finally catching him on the final climb. He told me that the win was about 2 minutes up the road; he's really a good guy. But he didn't hesitate to repass me on the sketchy descent and then put so much time into me that I couldn't even see him on the wide open finishing descent.

I got 3rd out of who knows how many guys. In my mind, there were only 3 guys in my race, Trottier, Kennedy and myself.

Natasha got 2nd out of all the cat 2 women and 1st in her category. Considering that she has not trained or even really ridden her mountain bike, it was a stellar performance. She has decided to upgrade. Is it humiliating or hot to have a wife who races in a higher category than you?

Overall, the Red Bull gate debacle notwithstanding, this was a great race. Challenging course, logistically well run, good vibe, well supported, well attended. Swag for podiums was thin (basically Gu-type products and an XL T shirt), but hey they had to give me something to complain about, right?