I hit the gas at 4:30 a.m. to make the long drive up to Monroe, and despite a cup of gas station coffee and a Coke, I was still feeling tired and sleepy when I arrived at the race five hours later. To top things off, my stomach was not particularly happy either. I guess it knew that I needed sleep more than a 60 mile road race, or maybe it had something to do with the gaspacho, calamari, scallops and wine from the night before.
I've raced a couple of versions of this road course in the past, and almost every time I ended up in some sort of break, but that was not to happen today. One complication was that the officials decided at the last minute to run the masters race together with the Cat. 1,2,3 race. For LCCS purposes, that meant that there were basically five races going on at once in the same pack. It was less than ideal, although I did like having a fairly big field for a change. The problem, however, was that the masters didn't want to chase the Cat. 1,2,3 riders, and vice-versa, and since they were scoring the Cat. 3s separately, they didn't have much motivation to respond to attacks by the Cat. 1,2s. Likewise with the masters, since the 45+ riders were being scored separately, they weren't all that motivated to chase down the 35+ guys. Anyway, I found it all too confusing. It's much simpler to just race and not worry too much about everyone else's class and category.
On the first lap there was a lot of action right from the start, and at one point right after I had chased down a little break (which I seemed to be doing all day), two of the Cat. 1,2,3 riders countered. Since the riders on the front at the time were masters, there was essentially no response and they eventually rolled off out of sight. Meanwhile, there were a number of attacks and surges from the masters riders, but nothing was sticking on this hilly course. Charlie was keeping an eye on me and every time I dropped back for a little rest, he would take over at the front. About halfway through the second or third lap (of four) there was an attack on a steep little hill just after a right-hand turn. There had been two or three of the Cat. 1,2,3 riders with a slight gap and the pack had almost closed the gap when we hit the turn. Well, one of the other Cat. 1,2,3 guys attacked the climb and hollered ahead to his teammate to "go!" I tried to go with him. I really did, but I was a little too far back when I saw what was happening and although I closed to within a few bike lengths on the climb, when the two teammates hooked up at the top there was no way I was going to catch. Of course, in the back of my mind I was also thinking that they were not really in the same race as I was. Even so, I have a real problem watching riders ride off the front like that. Just call it "fear of droppage." Anyway, those two were allowed to ride off into the sunset too, so now there were four of the Cat. 1,2,3 riders off the front and it seemed like there were only two more back in the pack who were doing anything. The third lap and most of the fourth lap were not too fast. I was doing a ton of work at the front chasing things down and trying to keep it together so Jaro would have a good shot if it came down to a pack sprint, which was looking more and more likely. Although we had dropped a few riders, most of the group was still back there lounging in the draft.
We had two Dallas riders in the field, one of whom was Jorge Merle who used to race in New Orleans back in the day. It is still a shock to me that he is old enough to race in the 45+ age group. Anyway, his teammate was doing a lot of work at the front. Finally, a few miles before the finish, there was a serious attack on a hill and the pack split for a while. I thought that maybe the six or seven rider group I was in might make a go of it, but I guess it was too close to the finish to expect everyone to work hard enough to stay away. Although it did come back together, a number of riders had been dropped and likely a few more were really feeling their legs. I dropped back next to Jaro and told him to get on either Jorge's or his teammate's wheel. A minute later things got hot but Jaro was stuck over on the left side of the road while Jorge and his teammate were on the right. I was able to get Jorge's wheel pretty easily as his teammate started a long and fast leadout down a little slope leading up to a right-hand turn that was only 200 meters from the finish. I think we blasted through that turn at around 30 mph. with me third. I hesitated for a second in the middle of the turn when I lost sight of the edge of the road, and was never able to make up that little gap. One hundred meters from the line when I stood up to really sprint, I could feel both calves cramping up. I could hear a bike coming past me on the right, but luckily it was Jaro. Neither of us was able to make up any ground on Jorge and his teammate, so we had to settle for 3rd and 4th in the overall masters race.
Overall, it wasn't a really fast race, but it was still pretty good. After the awards I hopped back into the car and headed back to New Orleans. I could have stayed for the TT the next morning, but I really wasn't too interested in doing another time trial. I got home just in time to vote before they closed the polls at 8 p.m.
I need to get some sleep.
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