Calm Friday

Weird and unpredictable weather around here lately.  On Wednesday I had been planning on going out to the lakefront for the training race, but it was pouring rain at my office at 4:30 so I pretty much wrote it off. I left work around 5:30 on wet streets under dripping oak trees, but a couple of miles up the road at the house the street was almost dry.  I don't think it ever actually rained at the lakefront.  So I set my sights on the Thursday evening race at the NOLA motorsports track.  At 5 am that morning it was pouring rain.  An hour later the rain had stopped but the streets were wet, so I dusted off the old Rain Bike, thinking I'd probably be the only person on the levee. Not so. There was a group of seven or eight up there despite the damp asphalt. It would have been a nice ride except for Howard who was on a TT bike and insisted on pushing the pace to an unsustainable level, which of course split the pack.  I dropped off the back pretty early since both me and my 1972 Pennine with steel fenders and $9.95 tires were not quite up to the task of drafting behind Howard's random surges, even though there was a pretty significant tailwind. I think most of the group turned back early anyway.  I rode out to the Big Dip, aka LaRose, meeting up with Judd who came up from behind on his TT bike.  We both turned around at the Dip.  After taking a few pulls into the headwind, I dropped back onto Judd's wheel and he spend the next ten miles practicing his time trialing while I practiced my drafting.  It felt like a hard ride anyway.

So Thursday evening I rushed back home, changed, jumped in the car, and drove across the river to the motorsports park expecting a big crowd. Unfortunately there were all of fourteen or fifteen people total. Perhaps the still-strong wind had something to do with it.  The track over there of course has no wind protection at all, so it's basically like riding in central Texas.  We did a couple of warmup laps that were way faster than warmup speed and I remember thinking to myself, "this isn't much fun!"  Then we split into two groups for a little handicap race where Kenny, Stephen, Ryan and I gave the rest of the group a couple of minutes' head start.  I had already told them I'd be sitting on most of the time, which is exactly what I did.  It felt a lot easier this time, probably because those riders were riding consistent lines around the sweeping curves rather than the random ones that I'd experienced earlier.  Ryan somehow got out of the draft too long and came off the back, so I took a few pulls to give Kenny and Stephen some recovery, and we caught the group with a lap to go (laps are something around 2 miles, I think).  So anyway, I got in a good afternoon workout.

This morning I was happy to do a fairly easy ride on the levee, after which I stopped for a cup of organic fair-trade rocket fuel at Zotz and contemplated all of the stuff I still need to get done before the race next week.

The Tour de Louisiane is just a week away now and the club is busy tying up loose ends.  I was rather late getting the race bible finished this year, but finally posted it yesterday.  I still have to get copies printed, of course. Entries are trickling in slowly as usual.  Tomorrow we will be riding the road race course, marking intersections and sweeping corners.

Feliciana Race Report and other Entanglements

After a couple of very busy weeks involving things like extension ladders, wedding cakes, and flight delays, I found myself driving up to the Feliciana Road Race early Sunday morning with Christian.  Considering that I had missed a lot of the more intense training that I clearly need this time of year, I figured my best shot for this race would be to ride very conservatively and hope for a pack sprint for the mostly uphill finish.  It didn't exactly work out that way.  Actually it didn't even remotely work out that way.

The Masters race had only 20 riders for the 66 mile road race through the rolling Feliciana hills near St. Francisville, although there were certainly a number of very strong ones in that number. With Mark racing Cat. 3 instead of Masters, where he would finish 4th, my only teammate was Fred.  Donald Davis was without teammates, but as usual that didn't matter one bit.  Acadiana had three, 4D Fitness had two, Midsouth had three, and Peake had two.  From the start I was expecting a number of attacks by Acadiana riders, and was not disappointed in that regard.  Considering the makeup of the field, I was trying to be very attentive near the front and had few options other than to chase anything that moved, hoping to perhaps get into a break. We were maybe five to seven miles into the race when a counter attack launched after I'd chased an earlier break.  Immediately two Acadiana riders and one 4th Dimension rider blockaded the front on the narrow road and I instinctively yelled "No!"  Behind me someone made a number of louder and more concise comments.  With those three soft-pedaling at the front, a 4-rider break that included Donald Davis, Jerry Simon (Midsouth), Kevin Landry (Acadiana) and Bennie Flores (4th Dimension) quickly formed up into team time trial mode. It was a while before I was able to squeeze past on the centerline, by which time our speed had dropped to around 20 mph despite the net downhill. The break was already a good fifteen or twenty seconds off the front and I ramped it up to 28 or so as quickly as I could. With practically every team represented I knew the window was about to slam shut.  As I started to fade, VJ came blasting past at 35 mph and I had to dig pretty deep just to catch his draft as he pushed the downhill up to 39 mph.  I looked up and could see that we'd made up a lot of ground on the break and for a moment at least entertained some hope that we might catch.  If a few more riders could come through, we might be able to close it.  Just then we had to make a left turn onto Highway 10, the pace dropped, and nobody came through.  There were really only three or four riders willing to do any work at all, along with three or four others who were doing their best to interfere with the chase, so the break quickly went up the road.  At that point I decided to make it a hard training ride and spent the next lap and a half (we were doing three laps) taking pulls, launching little attacks up the hills, and generally trying to keep the pace above the embarrassment level. I was getting some help from Chuck of S3 and the Midsouth riders, but for most of the rest of the race the same six riders were at the front either blocking or pushing the pace.  I think our average speed for the first lap was respectable at a bit over 24 mph.  The second lap was more like 23. The last lap was probably more like 21.

A couple of kilometers from the finish line were two significant hills, and as we approached the end of the second lap I was hoping for a big attack there that might split the group. The break by then was long gone. Jason attacked pretty hard on the second hill and as we came over the top the pack had split so we kept the pressure on.  For a few miles we actually had a little paceline going, but it wasn't fast enough to keep most of the group from coming back together.  At that point I pretty much threw in the towel.  This whole time I'd been thinking there were 5 or 6 in the break, so I wasn't really racing for anything.  For the last five or six miles Jorge, who along with Charles Kibbe had been very attentively monitoring the front for his teammate in the break, sat on the front and just towed everyone toward the finish at a modest 22 mph average pace.  I have to admit I'd completely lost all motivation by then and just sat in the paceline at about third wheel. 

THE CAT. 3/4 FINISH WAS PRETTY CLOSE.

The finish stretch of this race really starts about two miles from the finish with a pretty good climb, followed by a downhill, and then a final climb that starts about a kilometer before the finish and levels off with 300 meters left to go.  Someone attacked right at the bottom of the last climb and I went with that group pretty easily, but then the suddenly blew up and I got trapped with Chuck and some others as another group streamed past on the left.  By the time I got around it was pretty much over but Chuck was going pretty good so despite my general lack of motivation I latched onto his wheel until it leveled out and then took a shot at the 4th Dimension rider who was starting to blow up ahead of me.  I'd have passed him if I'd had another twenty feet of road, but I didn't and ended up 8th, which wasn't too surprising to me considering how much work I'd done earlier and my general mental attitude.  I was still feeling pretty frustrated about not having been in the breakaway as I drove home an hour later after post-race jambalaya, a lite beer and a coke. 

In the Cat. 1/2/3 race Ben Bradley and Ryan Barnes had gotten into an early break with Corey Ray and Adam Morris and ended up doing an 80-mile team time trial at an average speed of over 25 mph.  Ryan was kicking himself for letting a gap open because he thought Corey was pretending to be tired.  As it turned out, he was cramping, and when Ryan tried to force him to close the gap, Ben saw the opportunity and put the hammer down.  Ben and Adam sprinted it out for first and second, while Ryan had to TT the last couple of miles.

So on Memorial Day we had a nice city ride out to Chalmette battlefield and then to the WWII museum where one of the surviving veterans told the group stories about his experiences in Germany.  We finished up at the Morning Call in City Park with beignets and coffee.  My legs were still hurting from Sunday and after spending a couple of hours on an extension ladder painting one of the three window frames on the front of the house I decided to call it a day, and a week.

This morning I was feeling kind of achy all over and went out to meet the morning ride wondering if it was really such a good idea.  It turned out to be a pretty hard ride, and although my legs were not all there I felt OK.  I did, however, pass on the 30 mph sprint to the Huey P. Long bridge.

Doldrums

After what seemed like a solid month of unrelenting wind and otherwise irritating weather, the last couple of morning rides have been remarkably cool, dry and calm, at least with respect to the weather.  It would seem we are temporarily in the doldrums, not that I'm complaining. 

The Tuesday morning levee ride attracted a big group and once we stopped to wait for Woody to fix a flat that he got right at the start, it wasn't long before the pace worked its way up to 25, then 26, then 27 mph.  For the rest of the outgoing 18 miles the group's speed rarely dropped below 25 mph (averaged around 26).  Thanks to the lack of crosswind, it wasn't too intense as long as you didn't lose the draft, but even so it felt more like a race than a training ride.  After the turnaround I rode alone for a few miles, since I really don't much like to stop in the middle of such a short ride.  Soon enough I heard the group coming up behind me and accelerated to ease into the paceline.  A moment or two later Scott flatted after nailing the big hole at one of the grain elevator crossings, so we all stopped once again.  I thought maybe that would take the wind out of everyone's sails and we'd end up riding back downriver in conversational mode, but I think the weather was just too nice for that.  We were soon back into the 27-28 mph range and when someone took a flyer off the front to sprint for the bridge, it was no surprise that Woody immediately launched after him. Those of us who continue on to Oak Street and various points uptown got caught by a train at Oak and River Road. With that delay and the delays caused by the two flat tires I got home a good fifteen minutes later than usual despite the rapid pace. 

Regardless, it was a good training ride day for sure and I arrived back home feeling a little like I'd been ridden hard and put up wet.  You've just got to love that feeling.

So this morning I was happy to have the traditional Wednesday ride on tap.  Even with a fairly large group, which is to say maybe ten riders, the pace stayed extremely smooth.  Part of that was due to the lack of wind, but part is due to the evolving Wednesday levee ride tradition that calls for long steady pulls at 20-22 mph.  Each person in turn pulled for at least a mile.  In a way it felt like a recovery ride, but in another it felt like base training.  Whatever you call it, it was nice to be able to ride with my mouth closed! 

Better Late than Never

Last weekend was the annual Racing Rapides stage race up in Alexandria, Louisiana.  I have always liked this race.  For one thing, it's relatively close, which around here means just a 3-hour drive.  For another, the road race course is always interesting without being too brutal and the criterium course through the old downtown area is excellent.  This year the race coincided with the last weekend of Jazzfest, and I ended up driving up alone after work on Friday.  Fortunately a couple of other teammates were also going and we would at least be sharing a hotel room.

CAT. 123 FIELD, TURN 1

One thing that has set this race apart for the last couple of years is the road race.  It is held over a single lap (for most classes) of a 64 mile loop with enough hills to keep things interesting.  I was riding as a 55+ in the combined 40+/55+ race which should have had a much bigger turnout than the 16-rider field that lined up that morning.  Although it was the first week of May, a cold front had dropped the morning temperature down to 41F, but since it was supposed to warm up into the 70s, we were mostly freezing our asses off for the start.  Looking around at the start line I could see 5 riders from the Acadiana club so it was pretty clear what was going to happen.  Sure enough, they started the solo attacks right away. I had pretty much gotten my fill of that the weekend before in Mississippi and decided early on to stay near the front and keep the gaps under control. Back in the pack was my teammate Mark McMurry who I knew would do well if it came down to a pack sprint, assuming he didn't break a chain on the uphill finish like last year.

So I did a fair amount of work for the first half of the race but eventually needed to drop back and seek a little shelter.  Naturally another break went off the front at that point.  That gap got really big and I was thinking we might end up racing for third place when Donald Davis went to the front, put his big forearms down on the bars, and calmly towed me and the rest of the field for -- I kid you not -- ten miles, methodically reeling in the break with only occasional help by riders like Scott Gurganus who would come share the work for a minute or two.  After the catch was made another group of two went away but didn't get too far.  As the pack got close to them I rode across the gap, and for some reason the pack must have eased up.  So now I'm in an unintentional late 3-rider break with only about four miles to the finish.  What to do?  We were working together nicely but our speed in the mid to upper 20s was obviously very unlikely to keep us clear to the finish. With two or three miles to go we lost one rider on a hill, but by then the die had been cast.  Had the pack waited too long?  The last mile and a half before the finish was a long straight downhill followed by a steep 300m climb to the finish line.  We passed the 1 km to go sign and flew down the hill but the pack that had been lurking 20 seconds behind was already in hot pursuit. Just as we hit the finish climb I heard the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of wheels coming past on the left.  It was Mark going for a (very) early sprint.  I stood up and went as hard as I could expecting a long string of riders behind him, but instead there was a clear gap.  I sprinted up the hill as Mark started to fade and Donald came flying past with a couple of riders on his wheel.  A few more riders appeared alongside me as we gutted out the final 100 meters somewhere adrift of 5th place.  I think I was around 7th overall and 2nd among the 55+ riders.  Although that late breakaway came up about 300 meters short, it had been a fun and interesting race. What I didn't realize until after the race was over was that there had been a bad 4-rider crash as the pack was flying down the downhill just before the finish.  David Hesser, who had been in our 3-man break earlier and was then caught by the pack went down hard, as did Tim Dorion. Chuck remembered having his front tire glance off of Tim's head. Tim got the worst of it by far, however.  From what I heard he had a significant concussion and his helmet or glasses tore into his forehead, covering him with blood. He also had some serious knee injury, apparently.  He left in an ambulance and I don't think he was out of surgery until after dinner that night.

The afternoon time trial that started at the RR finish line and went backwards on the course for 3 miles was hard, and perhaps I rode it a little too conservatively, but at least I finished without sore legs and dropped down only one place on GC.  That one place put me something like 20+ seconds out of 2nd and 1st, but on the plus side I had a sizable gap on 4th place.  There was only one thing to do for the criterium on Sunday.

Sunday morning was again chilly and I arrived at the criterium course early to set up the big blue NOBC tent that we never actually used since standing in the sun was preferable for most of the day.  As I'd expected, the 50 minute Masters race started out fast with a lot of attacks during the first 20 minutes.  When there was finally a lull I looked around to see that I was the only 55+ rider still in the front group which meant that there was a good chance I could move up to 1st on GC just by not getting dropped.  There was a hot spot at around 25 minutes and having survived that I settled back into the group.  The pace by then had mellowed a little bit so it was pretty easy to move around and take a pull now and then. Mark flatted, and then crashed trying to ride back to the pit on a flat front, but was back in the race on the next lap with only minor injuries. There were I guess six or seven laps to go when the pace eased and I figured I would put my head down and get the speed back up along the 5-block long finish stretch.  I immediately rode away from the rest of the field since they had little motivation to chase the only 55+ rider so close to the finish.  I really had nothing to lose at that point, so I just kept on going.  It was at least safer than sitting at the back of the group, and besides, I needed the exercise.  Along the way I lapped one or both of the other 55+ riders and finished about 30 seconds ahead of the field.  That was fun even though it was a gift.  In the pack sprint Mark came in 2nd to Donald, moving  him up to 3rd on GC (his time trials are improving!!).  So it was a fun weekend for me, although I wish there had been a larger field. The promoters did a great job this year, so perhaps it was just a date that had a lot of conflicts, coming around exam week for college students, jazzfest for the New Orleanians, etc.

This week it was back to the usual routine, although I had to miss the Wednesday training race in order to do some badly needed exterior window painting on the house.  Such is life.