Down and Out

Man, it's like we're in the middle of a Crashidemic around here lately.  Riders, including me, have been dropping like flies. Last weekend was the annual "la Vuelta d' Acadiana" over in Lafayette. This is usually a pretty good race, and although the Masters field was looking a little thin I had been looking forward to it.  It's an omnium format race, which isn't generally my favorite, but I was willing to tolerate the time trial and attendant points deficit it would likely cost me in order to do the criterium and road race. 

So when the alarm went off at 5 am Saturday I threw the bike and wheels into the car and hit I-10 for the two and a half hour drive to the time trial course.  Overall, turnout looked pretty good and after signing the (wrong) release form (they had printed out 1-day release forms for all of the pre-registered riders by mistake) I squeezed into my skinsuit and rode around in circles for a while until my start time came up.  The 4 mile TT course started out into a headwind, which wasn't really what I needed motivation-wise.  Within the first half-mile, looking down at the speedometer to see numbers in the 24 mph range, I knew I was wasting my time.  So I held it at about an 80% effort all the way to the turnaround and didn't really go full-bore until maybe the final kilometer.  The predictable result was a dismal placing quite far down on the list.  Fortunately, the criterium was next.

The afternoon criterium were held on a course I'd ridden a number of times in the past, although the last time was probably ten years ago.  There were a couple of notable things about it.  One was the U-turn a little bit past the start/finish, and the other was the final turn that featured a section of road that would put your rear wheel into the air if you hit it right.  Otherwise the course was pretty fast.  I lined up with about twenty Masters around 4 pm.  The race started out fairly conservatively, I thought, but soon a small break went off the front.  I watched it for a little while as the gap started to grow ever so slowly.  A few riders moved to the front and a disorganized chase started to take shape, but I was already getting worried.  With such a small field there wasn't a whole lot of horsepower available to chase down the break.  Finally I set out alone to bridge up to it, making contact just before the U-turn. The pack had responded when I'd gone, so half a lap later the break sat up and the pack caught. 

There had been a time bonus sprint that the break had all to itself, so after that I guess some of them may have been content to ease up.  Anyway, things stayed together for the rest of the race.  I was staying pretty active near or at the front since I was enjoying the more technical nature of most of the circuit.  With two laps to go it started getting pretty tight as riders started getting anxious about their positions. Just before the last turn a rider attacked hard and opened a good gap.  I saw Mark M. come past on the left and grabbed his wheel just before the turn.  From there to the finish it was basically a drag race that ended with Mark 4th and me 5th.  I was reasonably satisfied with it.  Not happy, of course, but considering how lousy I'd felt that morning, it was at least reassuring.  We hung around for a couple more hours to watch the Cat. 4 and Cat. 1/2/3 races before heading to dinner at a sushi place.

Sunday morning was a fairly flat 50-mile road race just northeast of Lafayette.  I was feeling pretty good for this one.  It is kind of liberating to know that my teammate Mark is an accomplished sprinter because it means I can go ahead and take some chances or do some work early that I might otherwise avoid.  If I burn too many matches, I know that as long as Mark gets to the 200 meter mark in the front group he'll place well in the sprint.  Our race was three laps of a 15 mile loop plus a little segment from the start to the loop and then back from the loop to the start. Well, by the time we got onto the loop, maybe two miles after the start, there was already a 2-man break off the front.  The pack didn't seem too concerned about it, but I could see that the gap was growing really quickly.  To make matters worse, one of the riders was from the Acadiana team which had another four riders in the group.  Soon, they were all over the front going after anything and soft-pedaling to slow the group.  The break's gap must have gone out to about two minutes because for the most part we couldn't see it. 

Finally, about halfway around the first lap, I decided it was time to do some work and started working my way around the Acadian obstacles at the front to take some faster pulls. Initially I got some help from one of the Florida riders, and over the course of the next five miles or so some other riders started to lend a hand at overcoming the blockade.  As we started the last section of the first lap the pace finally got consistently high enough that I was comfortable we'd eventually catch the break.  Just before the end of the first lap was the feedzone, followed immediately by a right-hand turn.  I was at the front coming into that section, so I moved over a little to the right and held the 25-26 mph pace to make sure that the feed zone didn't turn into an excuse for the group to slow down for a couple of miles.  I mean, who the heck needs a feed 17 miles into a 50 mile road race?  Back in the day, it was actually illegal to feed for the first 50 miles of a road race.  Anyway, I rode smoothly through at the front, passing over four neon green turn arrows painted on the roadway.  Up ahead was a red arrow confirming the turn.  As I leaned into the turn I could hear a rider coming up on the right, but of course he would be turning too, so I made sure to leave room on the inside.  Suddenly he rammed into me, lifting my front wheel right off the ground.  He had not realized there was a turn there.  This little lack of situational awareness was about to end my race.  The last thing I remember before hitting the asphalt was being at an impossible angle relative to the ground and thinking, "Damnit, I'm going down."  I hit hard on my right side, whacked my head on the pavement, slid a little, rolled, and finally came to a stop.  I looked up to see the offending rider turning around and sprinting back onto the group.  He had somehow not fallen.  I was pissed.  Bob Monahan, who had been in the feedzone, came running over to see if I was OK, and we fumbled for a while with the chain which was wrapped into a couple of figure-eights. Someone told me my helmet was cracked.  I knew my race was over.  The road rash wasn't too bad, but the fall had probably broken a rib or at least caused a significant contusion, and since I'd hit my head I figured it would be best to stand in the shade for a little while until the adrenalin wore off and I could make a better assessment. 

Robert Maupin showed up after having crashed out of the Cat. 4 race, so after hanging around for a little while I convinced him to do one more easy lap with me.  We rode with a couple of stragglers from the Women's race for a while, during which time the two-man break off the front of the Cat. 4 race (Ben Bradley and Tim Dorion) came flying past.  Another small break from the Cat. 4s came by, and then, minutes later, the pack.  Mark and I sped up and hung off the back of the Cat. 4s for a while.  A little later we came upon one of our teammates who had flatted and rode with him for a little bit before heading back to the cars.  Later we found out that another teammate, Mario, had crashed and broken his collarbone in the Cat. 5 race.  Adrian had crashed in the Cat. 5 criterium the day before.  I can't really explain all of the crashes.  Perhaps the combination of heat and questionable riding skills?  I didn't see anything in particular about the courses that would have caused problems.  Anyway, the masters pack did indeed catch the break on the second lap and ultimately came into the finish together.  Mark finished 3rd, moving up to 6th on GC despite a time trial that was just as bad as mine had been.

It was a long drive home with road rash from shoulder to ankle.  It's Tuesday and it still hurts to take a deep breath, so I guess there's a good chance I damaged a rib in my upper back or under my arm.  Nothing to be done about that except to stock up on Advil, I guess.  After I got home I learned that Rick Aubry had crashed on the Saturday Giro.