Best and Worst

It was the best of races, it was the worst of races, it was a race of wisdom, it was a race of foolishness...  I left work early on Friday to make the two hour drive up to Brookhaven, Mississippi for the annual Mississippi Gran Prix stage race feeling unusually unprepared. For one reason or another I'd been up late every night for nearly a week and rather than going into the weekend feeling strong and confident, I was actually feeling more tired and unsettled.  It happens. Friday evening I helped out a little bit with the officiating for the Cat. 1/2/3 criterium in old Brookhaven.  It wasn't easy.  The short, technical course resulted in a strong breakaway that slaughtered the field, motoring consistently at around 28 mph until, only four or so laps before the end, it lapped the field. Then, a couple of corners after the "2-to-go" lap card went up, there was a crash on a particularly dark and narrow corner.  We didn't even know it had happened until the race was over, but the end result was pack time for most of the survivors not in the original break and a trip to the hospital for local rider Ed Novak with, reportedly, a broken finger.

So after staying up late again in order to post the crit results to the LAMBRA website, I got up Saturday morning early and headed out to the Road Race start with a revised version of big the results spreadsheet that had needed some late-night work to fix some last-minute problems.  It was cooler than I usually like but then again that seems to be the status quo for this race. The 31-rider Masters 40+ field was loaded with blue and red.  The blue jerseys represented Donald Davis and six of his teammates from the West Florida Wheelmen, while the red represented the five-rider team from Midsouth Masters.  Additional muscle was provided by Keith Breaux, James Milne (Tupelo), Scott Gurganus (LaS'port), and Grant Dona (S3), among others.  I was feeling anything but sharp for this race, and my plan at the start, if one can call it a plan, was to stay out of the wind, see how the battle between the two big teams played out, and hope for a pack sprint.  Things didn't exactly work out that way, though.  Our 58 mile race was 4 laps of the "old" road course that I'd ridden at least a few times before.  I guess it was on the second lap that a couple of riders rolled off the front.  Both of the two big teams were represented and I immediately sensed the front of the pack backing off.  Big red flag!!  I went around and took off in pursuit of the break that, by then, was about twenty seconds up the road.  Halfway there I was starting to bog down and wondering if I could finish what I'd started.  I glanced under my arm and saw Scott Gurganus coming at me fast.  When he came by I latched on and we traded a few pulls until we caught the break.  The four-rider group came together pretty well and I thought "this is looking pretty good!"  With four teams represented, I figured there would be a lot of resistance to a chase, and considering my prospects in the afternoon's time trial I was perfectly willing to bury myself for a 4th place finish and a gap on the rest of the field. I glanced behind me and couldn't even see the field.  A few miles later I was shocked to hear voices behind me.  A couple of the "independents" and gone to the front and towed the whole pack up to us.

We were coming up to the start/finish area with one lap to go when a group of about six quietly snuck off the front.  There hadn't been an attack or anything, but I could see that the teams weren't going to give chase since they were both represented.  The pack's pace slacked off and when I looked down and saw 18 mph on my computer I figured it was time to do something about it. Donald Davis, with a whole team to support him, was wisely sitting in, which I knew must have been hard on him even if it was clearly the best tactic.  So I went to the front and ramped the pace up a bit so that we weren't losing ground on the break any more.  When I started to fade, I eased over hoping someone would come through, but when I looked back all I saw was red and blue, so I just put my head down again and pressed on into the headwind.  I was burning my last few matches, but I was pretty sure the break would be gone otherwise and I'd be racing for something like 7th place and a big time gap on GC.  I guess I pulled the pack for two or three or four miles until we made a right turn and got out of the headwind.  Finally a few of the "independents" came to the front and once we got a rotation going we started closing in on the break.  A final surge on one of the long downhills finally sealed the deal, and with five or six miles left it was gruppo compacto.  By then my legs were toast.  I sought out what shelter I could, but deep down I knew my race was over.  At least I'd salvaged pack time.  When the uphill sprint started about 300 meters from the line, I was way too far back and pretty much shut it down, coasting across the line in the middle of the strung-out pack in 14th place feeling pretty bad all-around.  The dry air and allergies had really done a number on my lungs and I already knew it was not going to be a good weekend for me.

The evening time trial was a 3-mile affair on a rolling course straight into a headwind.  My legs were still aching when I went out to warm up and I could feel the tightness in my chest.  My motivation was really low, and it showed.  I started out the TT pretty slow, and don't think I ever got the 14 tooth cog dirty the whole time.  The result, of course, was a dismal time of 7:07, good for 13th place. My lungs hurt, my legs hurt, and the dog had eaten my motivation.  A good GC placing seemed entirely out of reach.

It was after midnight when I heard the computer notify me that a new email had arrived.  I knew what it was.  Ricky, the Chief Ref. had finally sent me the results to post to the LAMBRA website.  I dragged myself out of bed and spent half an hour cutting and pasting so that riders could check their interim results in the morning.  After a quick breakfast at the nearby Waffle House, I made my way over to the new circuit race course. My legs were still achy and I had already formulated my plan for this race, which was to basically suck wheels and try not to get dropped. Great plan, right?  The West Florida team had riders in 1st and 2nd on GC, so I figured they would be riding defensively.  Talking with a couple of the Midsouth riders before the start I learned that their plan was for Jay to go for an early break in order to make some of the other independent riders work, and then when that got caught Jason would counter-attack.  He suggested that I come along with him when he did.  Since we were both so far down on GC, we thought that the Florida team might give us a little rope and we might be able to move up a bit without threatening the GC placings of either team's team leaders. It was a plan.

So I lined up for the start somewhere around mid-pack expecting to sit in for much of the first lap.  The ref. said "go" and Scott Gurganus attacked.  Jay, Keith Breaux, and Robert Baker (West Florida) went with him.  The rest of the pack sat back and watched.  With riders in the first two GC spots, the burden to chase fell to the Florida guys and I think everyone in the pack knew it, but since they had one rider in the break, I suppose they didn't want to go after it immediately.  As the gap started to grow I wondered why they were giving that break so much rope.  I knew for sure that Scott and Keith, neither of whom were highly placed on GC, were not going to give up easily. With blue jerseys all over the front of the field, the gap continued to grow, and by the time we'd done two laps of the 4-lap race it had about a minute and a half.  When Duane, the moto-ref came back to the pack and gave them the time split, things finally started to pick up a little.  I was still sitting near the back of the pack and could sense a little increase in anxiety.  Still, the blue jerseys controlled the front. 

With only twelve or so miles left to go I started to doubt they could be caught.  As we started the final lap I saw Donald, the Florida team leader, go to the front and start pulling.  The pace ramped up considerably.  Halfway through the lap we could see the break about 45 seconds up the road.  Keith, who like me had been sitting in, pulled alongside and commented, "this may work out pretty well after all."  Indeed, it looked like we might actually catch the break before the finish.  It would have been a perfect strategy for the West Florida guys except for the fact that their team leader was now doing most of the work.  Anyway, it proved to be too little too late and by the finish the break still had 25 seconds or so on the pack, more than enough, with the bonus, to put the three riders into the top three slots on GC.  I put in a half-hearted sprint from mid-pack to roll across in 13th place.  It had actually been a pretty interesting and dynamic masters stage race, and I was kind of disappointed that I'd ridden so poorly, but it was a fun weekend anyway.  After my race I hung around to watch the finish of the Cat. 1/2/3 race. 

At the end this one came down to a big pack sprint, and as they barrelled up the hill toward the finish line Matt Davis pulled away on the right.  Then I saw Ben Gabardi come flying up the hill on the left.  He pulled even with Matt about 20 yards before the line as they briefly rubbed elbows. When they crossed the line we all looked at each other and said, "who won?"  Ricky had to go to the video on that one.  Ben's bike throw at the line had nudged his wheel ahead of Matt's by the width of a tire.

While I was in Brookhaven, a number of the Tulane Cycling collegiate riders were way over in Lubbock at the SCCCC conference road championships where they nailed down the 2011 Division II conference championship and one of the women won the women's omnium. Very impressive for a collegiate team in its first year of competition.  Back when I was a student at Tulane, during the Nixon administration, bike racing was considered eccentric at best and collegiate bike racing wasn't even on the radar.  It was really gratifying this year to see Tulane and LSU fielding competitive teams.