Racing - July 7, 2013 New Britain Crit, Cat 3s

Back to the Future.

Or something like that.

What makes me say that?

I'll give you a code:
19, 19, 12, 16, 15, 14, 14, 12, 11, 11, 9, *, 7, 2, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

(Two notes: * means I didn't catch the number on the helmet cam so I have no evidence of the actual number, and if you count the start you need to add another 19 at the beginning of the list.)

So what is it?

It's the lap count down to the finish. If you thought it was supposed to be in reverse order then I'm with you. This time, though, the numbers got all screwy. To help everyone out I made the screwy numbers bold.

Note that we got to do 5 lap cards twice, hence the reference to Back to the Future.

(Note: 1985, the year of Back to the Future, is also the last year that the race ran clockwise at New Britain. A terrible crash on the then-downhill S-curves led to the reversal of course direction along with the eventual removal of these cosmetic rocks lining the S-curve. 

Proof of the direction: 1985 Junior 15-17 field at the start, facing the "wrong way".

I have a blue jersey with pink sleeves, red bike, white helmet, towards the right.

I got slaughtered in this race.

Picture by Charlie Issendorf from here 

End historical note.)

The problem was that I only saw the last error. I was suffering too much to look at the lap cards before - in most of my races I wait until I can't bear it anymore before I look at the cards, hoping that I'm near the finish. I remember looking up at White Plains after a gazillion laps and seeing "32" (laps to go) to my horror.

At New Britain I actually looked at one of the 11s, then again at 9. I looked again at 7 because I was basing my bottle usage rate in 7 lap segments, giving me 21 laps for 3 bottles. I'd have extra water at the end at that rate. I knew that I was well ahead of the curve with almost two full bottles left (I used up and tossed one bottle at around the 14 lap mark). But that first 2 threw me for a loop.

So, with some lap card shots here's the race report.

Heat Issues, Bike Issues

The day was hot. I mean it was hot. The forecast called for 88 degrees, feeling like 102 or something weird like that. I figured, "Upper 80s, I can deal with that." I seem to have lost one of my Podium Ice bottles so I had to deal with just one Podium Ice and two Podium Chills.

Due to a hectic schedule during our July 4th vacation week (the Missus admitted overbooking us) I never got around to putting a second bottle cage on the bike. It takes some doing, with a front derailleur clamp and some necessary mods to both cages in order to make the tall bottles work. Therefore we headed out to the race with just one cage on my bike. I'd carry two bottles in my pocket, dump some ice water on myself before the start. I hoped to make the three bottles last an hour, plenty for what was scheduled. I'd use one up quickly so I'd have one center-pocket bottle and one bottle-cage bottle.

My bike also got a bottom bracket creak, after a few hard days in the rain. BB30 is sort of known for it but at the same time I'm not a BB30 super-mechanic (I've only worked on three BB30s, all mine). It's probably me. Whatever, my BB is creaking and it's annoying.

We got to the race and I went through the regular "catching up with new and old friends" thing. This inevitably slowed down my race prep but I think I did a lap before stopping to dump water on my head. I also made a last minute effort, literally, to get my camera out of the car and into the capable hands of Heavy D, the team's Director of Sales and Marketing. Okay, he's not, but that's basically what he is to the team, and it sounds better than "Team Cheerleader" or "Team Peptalker". If you see a real cheerful post on Facebook in all caps about how much fun Expo is then that's  Heavy D. He's an absolute hoot and always enthusiastic.

(He happens to be a strong rider also, new to the sport, but strong enough so that every time I see him at a race I ask mostly-seriously if he won. To my disappointment he didn't win earlier in the day.)

Expo Plan

For today the plan in the 3s was to see if Mike could get off the front in a group. He's been riding really well this year so both Jeff and I felt it would be good if he could get up to a group. It's much easier to sit at the front and block than it is to chase things down so we were both game for that part of the plan.

The second part would be to see if we could help Jeff for the sprint.

My goal was to just finish. I expected to be out in a short time - the heat just brutalized me and I wasn't feeling too fresh after our "vacation" week.

The Race

Rolling to the start from the 1985 start line.
It was about 95 degrees F, really hot for me.
We'd see 97-98 degrees after the race.

First lap - 19 to go.

This makes sense. We were to race 20 laps and the lap cards already read 19 when we lined up. I always think that technically it should show 20 but that's splitting hairs. If I was the official that's what I'd do but I haven't been an acting official yet so I'll shut up about it.

Second lap - 19 to go.
Again.

In my heat addled state I didn't realize the lap cards were not good. Whether the numbers were sticking (they have this sliding shutter kind of lap card product that, when I've used similar ones, inevitably have numbers stick together) or if the officials were dazed by the heat (they were out there all day), I don't know, but whatever the reason, the lap cards were funky.

(As a side note I've been hard on myself for not buying "official" lap cards for Bethel. With the potential for error I now realize that the home-made ones, made with laminated numbers flipping on binder rings, is a bit more fool proof. It's impossible to "merge" two numbers where you can't see either, it's very difficult to skip numbers, and it requires virtually no maintenance. This is on my To-Do List for Bethel for 2014.)

Unfortunately on this day I only saw the last error. You can scroll up to see the last bold number - it's the second worst number to show a racer if it's not correct, and it's the worst one to show in terms of legality.

I should point out the rules that govern this situation and you'll see why the mistaken lap card is the worst one an official can show.

If the bell rings to finish the race on the wrong lap then the officials need to score the next lap as the race's finish. They have the option to re-run the last part of the race but basically if the bell rings for the finish you need to race the last lap like it's the last lap.

That's the rule (1M3 in the 2013 rule book, page 39 here.)

This means if you see 1 to go and the bell is ringing you better go for it.

Period.

There are non-rules. For example, there's no rule about listening or not listening to the announcer, but basically the announcer is not an official so racers have to ignore what they're saying. Racers have to listen to the officials.

It's most obvious when the announcer makes a mistake with names, typically in a field sprint where maybe the announcer says that some favorite won when it's the favorite's teammate that won instead. The erroneous thing/s the announcer says is not official unless the officials also made the same mistake/s.

Also since the officials usually ring the same bell for primes the racers have to listen to the officials to see if it's a prime lap or the last lap of a race. If the officials aren't saying anything then the racer has to guess because the announcer isn't an official.

Mike in the group in front. I'm sitting 4th wheel in the bunch, sitting in and marking wheels.

This is a picture by Heavy D of that lap.

Note I have two bottles in my pockets.

Mike obliged by riding like a madman. He made it to a lot of the groups that went off the front, usually collectively chasing some brave soul off the front. All of the solo or duo moves came back, the brave soul/s cooked from the heat. 

Third lap - 12 to go.

What?

Right? We went from 19 to go showing twice to 12 to go. I didn't see this lap card error. I was too focused on the race and I knew I had time before I would have to look at the lap cards. If I'd seen this error then I would have had some inkling that maybe the lap cards aren't right.

My teammate Jeff mentioned some errors after the race but I thought he was talking about a different race. I didn't realize he might have been talking about our race, but by then I was so out of it from the heat that I couldn't think straight (and hence I'm writing this entry a day later).

This is the first time I've seen these kind of consistent lap card errors in over 30 continuous seasons of racing. I painstakingly took stills from the helmet cam because it's so unbelievable that this happened that I felt it necessary to show the stills of every lap, right or wrong. I missed one lap because I had my nose glued to the stem that lap, but I caught every lap otherwise.

Fourth lap - 16 to go.

By the fourth lap I was suffering badly. I had no idea what was going on except there was a guy off the front by a lot, maybe 20 seconds, and I felt like I was in front of a blowtorch. I actually found my teammate Jeff and asked him if he wanted any ice water. I had two full bottles and if I dropped out I wanted to give up my ice water to my teammates instead of wasting them on myself.

Jeff, much more at ease than I could ever be, thought I was offering him an extra bottle, and declined, pointing out he had two bottles.

I told him to take a bottle because I was going to drop out and I had ice water if he wanted it. He told me to sit in and hang on.

Reluctantly I agreed.

That was just about when the following happened.

Seven go and three follow.

A bunch of guys went clear, with a few more going after them. As we approached the final turn of the course it looked pretty dangerous. With seven guys clear and another three approaching them, plus the fact that everyone was looking a bit beat due to the heat, I figured I should try and get up there to take a pull for the Expo boys. This would be my last hurrah before I dropped out of the race. If Mike or Jeff didn't want my bottles I'd dump them on my head after I stopped.

I got to the front of the field and was pulling them up to the turn.

If you look at the above picture you should note the second rider's posture. He's about a wheel length off the next rider, seems to be set to make it through the turn.

Second rider starts to dip.

Second rider hits the deck.

The two behind the guy try to avoid him.

The guy directly behind the faller avoids him.

Unfortunately the next guy falls.

It looks like the second guy behind the faller gets caught up in the bike that's on the ground or maybe the rider himself. Either way he goes flying off his bike.

Second faller hits the deck pretty hard.

Even though I say to look up and all that it was only around this point where I realized that there were guys on the deck. I was so cooked that I had all my focus concentrated on the wheels in front of me.

As the two riders scramble out of the way you can see the rolled tire on the first faller's bike.

Note one rider in the parking lot.

This is the second Sunday race where someone rolled a tire in the Cat 3 race. The first was at Keith Berger. This one wasn't quite as bad as the "full-off" at KB. This tire only came a bit off. The tire, skewed sideways on the rim, slammed into the brake, locking up the rear wheel. This is why the rider recovering the bike can't roll it - the rear wheel is probably locked in place. A hard tug backward on the rear wheel should free it up but it will only roll about 7/8 of a revolution before it hits either the brake or the chainstays.

Nonetheless rolling a tire is an absolute no-no, in both official terms as well as cultural (peer-pressure) ones. It's a shame that yet another racer has rolled a tire in a race, taking down someone else with them. It used to mean an automatic 10 day suspension, which, in the days of a 10 day suspension for a positive dope test, was pretty significant.

Fifth lap - 15 to go.
I pulled for a while but everyone behind me was sitting up so I sat up too.

At this point the racers seemed to ease a bit, at least until the line, mainly because of the crash a couple hundred meters back. As we went past the stand a few riders rocketed up the right side. It was game on again.

With the heat the racers were hard pressed to react quickly to moves. It seemed that attacks would immediately get clear, the elastic would stretch and stretch, and then, unable to snap, the elastic would pull the rider back into the field.

One guy was gone pretty much from the start - Jeff came up to me and said, "Man, if that guy can stay out there by himself to the finish he deserves to win."

Well he shot backward so quickly that he went off the back and withdrew from the race. He had a good 20 second lead last I saw and I was so out of it that I never saw him come back. I even thought he may have won the race.

Bottle toss, the first of three bottles.

I had three bottles, two tall insulated Podium Chills and one regular height Podium Ice. Just before the start I also dumped ice cold water on my jersey, around my neck, and on my legs. Two bottles in my pockets felt awkward so I tried to use one up quickly. When the pace eased on the fifth lap I decided to douse myself with what was left in the third bottle and toss it.

Now I had two bottles - one on the bike and one in my pocket. Things were much more balanced. I knew I had to get 7 laps per bottle to make it to the finish - if I could stretch it out more I could really douse myself in the last two laps and bring down my core temperature. It would be a balancing act between not overheating during the race and saving something for the finish.

Sounds familiar, right?

Sixth lap - 14 to go.

Seventh lap - 14 to go. Again.

Again, in my head addled mind, I didn't catch the lap card error. If I did I would have been more suspicious of any weird lap cards popping up.

Eighth lap - 12 to go.

Ninth lap - 11 to go.

Photog Heavy D to the right.

I only show this shot of him because it happened to pop up on the screen as I fast forwarded through the clip. Based on the shots it looked like he walked around the exposed part of the course before heading back to the finish area for the end of the race.

The picture he got. I'm third last.

Note one bottle, center pocket.

At this point I knew I would be tossing the second Podium Chill bottle. Therefore I wanted it accessible. I moved it to the bottle cage and put the Podium Ice in my pocket. When I was ready I'd toss the Chill and use up the Ice. If I could make it to 4 or 5 laps to go before digging into the Chill I'd be really happy.

Tenth lap - 11 to go. Again.

And again I didn't catch it. I was suffering pretty hard just hanging on the back and I wasn't paying enough attention to the lap cards. I'd see them one lap, skip a few, then look again. I missed all the screwy lap cards. In ten laps four of the lap cards were wrong, and I missed every single one.

Eleventh lap - 9 to go.

Thirteenth lap - 7 to go.


He has shoes like me, down to the buckles up front.

Someone must have been hammering up front because I was dying for shelter here. I assessed my situation on the backstretch of this lap. I had basically a full Podium Ice bottle in my pocket - I took a couple sips but it was otherwise clunkily sloshing on my back (clunking due to all the ice in it). I also had about 2/3 to 3/4 of a Podium Chill bottle in my bottle cage.

I figured that I'd sparingly use up the Chill until 4 to go, really use it up in the next two laps, toss it at 2 to go, and switch to the Ice for the last two laps. If I got the chance I'd be super aggressive with the Ice. If I could save it until 2 to go then I'd use most of it on that 2 to go lap then use the rest at the bell. Because the last lap can be ferocious I figured I'd use virtually the whole bottle at 2 to go. It takes me about a lap to heat up after dousing myself with ice water but by then I'd be finishing the race.

Fourteenth lap - 2 to go.
And the bell was ringing for a prime.

What?!

Obviously something happened. Remember that us racers have to listen to the officials and ignore the announcer. Whatever the announcer is saying is off limits in terms of rules. So with 2 showing on the lap cards it meant the officials thought it was 2 to go.

I know that promoters run into scheduling problems or other unknown things. Whatever, if they needed to shorten the race then they needed to shorten the race. I immediately went into "2 laps go go" mode.

First, in the space of about 50 meters, I took a huge swig from the Chill, dumped what I could on me, and then tossed the half full bottle towards the pit area. I don't want to toss the insulated bottles just anywhere but I didn't want to wait a full lap to toss the bottle to the Missus. The pits would be fine - my black Tsunami was sitting there.

End of the straight after the "2 to go".

Second, I pushed really hard to move up, using up virtually all my reserves. I wanted to be near the front at the bell because I didn't trust myself to be super jumpy in the very hot sprint. I doused myself with water from the Ice, my last bottle now, around most of the lap - I figured I'd barely have any time to touch the bottle on the last lap so I used virtually all of it up. I knew I could make one hard lap fine if I was properly chilled, and I was dumping that ice water on me to set myself up for the last lap.

Mike went off the front because it was "2 to go".

He's waaaay off the front, about to disappear out of the picture.

I wasn't the only one to go into "2 to go" mode. Mike went flying off the front of the bunch, bridging up to one guy and bringing one with him. He took monster pulls, trying to gauge his effort for a 2 lap break. With good momentum, a pack that even going hard wasn't closing the gap, it looked like a good move.

Fifteenth lap - 5 to go? What?

You know that sinking feeling? You got everything all set up and then you realize that not all is as it seems?

Well that's what happened here. We came flying up to the start/finish expecting to hear the bell and see the "1 to go" sign. We heard the bell - for a prime. A prime? On the finishing lap?

Then we saw the lap cards. It said 5 to go, not 1 to go.

Two riders in front looked at each other in surprise.

Note the rider to the left is holding out two fingers.

"It should be one to go! Last lap was two to go!"

Exactly what I was thinking. But the rules are the rules. If the officials put up 2 to go and then 5 to go that's legal. If they rang the bell for the finish then it's 1 to go, period. The rules don't say anything about 2 to go. They can ring the bell for a prime and show 5 to go and, guess what?

It's 5 to go.

And here I am with virtually no water left. $#!@

Sixteenth lap - 4 to go.

By now I was almost empty and getting really hot. My precious Ice bottle had almost nothing left in it and that half full Chill was sitting in the grass in the pit area. I tried to gather myself for the finish though, see if I could bring it off.

Mike, paying the price, sitting up hard. 

I closed the gap.

Mike had blown himself up in his "2 to go" effort. With his 100% effort he went by the start/finish hearing just the bell, not seeing the 5 to go. Sprinting to the line (one of the two others also sprinted) only to see 4 to go, he tried to recover but it was too late.

Seventeenth lap - 3 to go.

At 3 to go I was running dry. I kept pushing because that's what I do. The distractions started getting to me.

2 to go, for real.

A guy went to the front and absolutely drilled it for much of the lap, trying to string it out for his teammate. It worked too because we were single file for virtually the whole lap. I started thinking that, wow, if they do this for the next two laps I'm totally screwed.

Whether he went a lap early or not I don't know but by the time we made it back for the bell the field was bunching up, to my ever-thankful relief.

It didn't help my water situation - my Ice was totally empty of water and I could just blow cold mist into my mouth. It was times like this that I wished the ice would melt just a bit quicker, but the few slim slivers of ice in the bottle really wouldn't offer much even if I could chomp them down.

Bell lap, for real.

Obviously I was sitting pretty far back but New Britain is a place where I can sometimes pull a rabbit out of my hat. It's not quite a Bethel for me but it's close. Therefore I decided to try and give it a shot. I stayed outside on the hill, one of my two favorite ways to move up. (The other is the inside so it's not really a secret.) I tried to push but my legs weren't cooperating and I couldn't get past the hump that forms the front of the group.

Shut out of that group I knew I wouldn't be able to make it towards the front by the finish so I sat up and rolled in for the finish.

Rolling casually to the finish.

Matt E is up front, the next rider in the sun towards the right of the road. He was one of the early attackers, going off the front, trying to break the elastic. Unlike many of the other early attackers he finished the race, but very, very slowly.

I rolled up to him as we approached the line and decided that I'd practice my bike throw. I tried to make it look good while keeping it "tied" in terms of "place".

Slo-mo bike throw.

From Heavy D's point of view.

We were almost at a standstill as we crossed the line. Matt was so out of it that he only noticed me at the line. He cracked a wry smile, saying, "Oh, man, I think you got me," as we rolled away from each other.

Post Race

Regardless of the lap cards I didn't feel great during the race. I gambled everything on one, big, two-lap move but started making that move at what ended up being the 5 to go mark. Everything after that was me trying to change tactics midstream.

Mike seemed more disappointed. He'd made a huge effort to get off the front and worked super hard with two other guys to increase their gap. It's possible that if they hadn't sprinted that they could have gone on for another few laps, perhaps even to the finish.

Jeff, the only one of us three who saw most of the lap cards, got super boxed in with half a lap to go. It's unclear on the cam since I was so far back but basically a guy moves left really hard, almost takes a guy into the grass, and everyone on that side had to slam on their brakes. Unfortunately Jeff was one of them.

Lessons Learned

I have to pay attention to lap cards, even though maybe I don't want to know how much further I need to go when I'm suffering like mad as soon as we get going.

I need to get that second bottle cage on the frame. I had two before, when the frame was orange, and I need to replicate that effort again.

Along those lines I need to locate my second Podium Ice bottle. They're unavailable to buy now and will keep water cold about twice as long as the Chill - it takes 2 hours for an Ice to lose all its ice, just one hour for a Chill. In hot weather that second Podium Ice is a must.

Finally, I need to take care of my creaking bottom bracket. It's annoying at the least. In the worst case it's a warning to other riders that I'm approaching them.

At least my number was pinned on well.

btw I brought the pins to the race.

Racing - June 23, 2013 Keith Berger Crit Cat 3s

The Keith Berger Crit. This is a standard crit for me now. It has some significance to me at different levels. I met and raced against Keith Berger at Bethel. Back then he was "the guy in purple" because he wore a generic purple jersey. It didn't matter what he wore - he demolished the field, winning from breaks and winning field sprints. He quickly moved out of the 3s and therefore disappeared from my week to week race interactions. I might have seen him line up in a P123 race but I'd be at the back and he'd be at the front. I wouldn't call what I did "racing" and his Cat 2 status put him in different races or at different ends of the field if we were in the same race.

Another significant thing is that in 2011 the Missus was pregnant when we came to the race. We didn't know it at the time but Junior was already a tiny ball of cells. Although the race wasn't a resounding success for me (I sat up in the last lap of the P123 race) it wasn't bad either. The bonus was a short time later when we found out that Junior was on his way.

Nowadays the Keith Berger Crit is much closer to home. It makes it a home race, if you will, just like any race at New Britain and all the races at the Rent (@TuesdayTheRent). It's a quick jaunt down the highway and presto, we're at the race.

Today was supposed to be okay in the morning, like mid 70s, and warming up to the mid-80s by the midafternoon.

Right.

When we got there it was already in the 80s, and by the time my race finished it was 93 degrees (95 degrees after we got going).

Unfortunately I played it pretty close to the edge in terms of ice water and such. I was so confident in the 80 degree max forecast that I gave a precious bottle of ice water to a teammate (who, it turned out, suffered from heat exhaustion, so I'm glad he had some ice water). I even skipped installing the second bottle cage on my bike.

So Mister Unprepared started the race with one half full bottle of ice water in his pocket and one full bottle of ice water in the single bottle cage mounted to the frame. Not a lot for a 30 lap race (which was another thing - I didn't bother checking the race distance).

30 laps, 1 1/2 bottles, really hot... not good.

On the plus side we had a very solid team. Two of us had some legs - Mike and Jeff - and three of us had our life excuses - Chris, Rick, and myself. We all started out with the plan of no-plan: "Let's see how it goes". My thoughts ran along the lines of seeing if I could help Mike or Jeff. I held outside hopes on Chris and Rick, both of whom tend to understate their fitness and who try to make the most of a good situation.

Lining up for the start.

As I told the guys before the start, I've been good for 20-30 minutes in each of the races I'd done for the last few weeks. I feel great at the start, fantastic. At White Plains I started plotting how to approach the last lap just two laps into the race.

The problem is that this feeling of "good legs" goes flying out the window at about minute 20. From there it's a death march until I either get shelled or, infrequently, roll across the finish in the middle of the field.

My plan then was to go hard in the first 20 minutes or so, look for a prime or two, and then see how long I could last. This meant that when I saw a move go early in the race I tried to go with it.

Watching a move develop on the right side.

A guy in green and orange dieseled his way off the front. A CLR guy (they've been riding super strong recently) jumped across to him. A few more riders seemed to dwaddle off the front of the field so I went by to try to catch the train before it left the station.

Move is coalescing - I go.

The guy in green and orange just pulled like a locomotive, but we didn't have the speed to get that initial gap which is so important. Also the CLR guy on his wheel didn't want to pull and, honestly, I was rapidly running out of gas. I looked back a few turns later and the field was strung out on my wheel.

The counter after the field caught the move.

A slew of counter moves spelled the end of our little escapade and most of us sank into the field. I actually passed the green guy as he drifted back a bit more than me. The CLR guy... there were enough of them that I couldn't keep them straight.

A short time later a BANG and that familiar but sickening sound of metal on the ground.

A lap later the guy that pulled for that first move blew a tire.

The green orange guy had most of his tire off the rim, tube hanging out. He obviously had a massive tire failure. Unfortunately the guy that took the brunt of the hurt was a CLR rider, an unwitting accessory to the incident. I think I know who it was but I don't want to say because I don't know for sure. Whatever, I think he's a regular at Bethel and it was unpleasant seeing him on the ground.

The field neutralized itself on its own, racing just a lap until we all passed by the crash scene and the rider was still down. At that point racing become secondary to the fate of the rider on the deck. CLR went to the front to set a steady tempo, even when the bell rang for a prime. No one sprinted and the officials neutralized the prime.

Until the officials neutralized the race the CLR guys neutralized it.

I felt pleasantly surprised to see the solidarity among the racers. The guy on the ground was getting proper attention so we just eased. It wasn't easy for me, mind you, but it was definitely a step down in terms of throttle.

Red flagged race.

The officials neutralized the race, making official what we had collectively already done. We all stopped on the shade side of the road, a couple guys topped off their bottles (me included, when a teammate David came by with ice water), and we waited. The officials didn't seem super absorbed in damage control so I felt the rider's injuries were "normal", if you will.

We got started with two alleged neutral laps before the racing started showing 20 to go. After one neutral lap they rang the bell. There was a schedule to try and keep so we got down to racing quickly. The neutral lap was good though - everyone could sort of get back into it, no racing from the gun on legs that got a bit cold.

CLR's Nutmeg State Champ

The race winning break went, although we didn't know it at the time. At some point I'd said to Mike and Chris that I was working for Jeff. They nodded their agreement and so it was. Rick had suffered heat exhaustion at this point and had dropped out of the race. Some ice water, some hanging out in the shade with his wife and very young son, and he seemed to be okay.

Jeff launching, trying to get across to the break.

Jeff didn't know that we'd all decided to work for him and at some point, with Mike driving the field trying to keep the break within shouting distance, Jeff launched. He attracted one other rider and together they tried to ride away from the field. Unfortunately after a lap they hadn't gotten the gap and the two slid back into the field.

Crash. Riders at all sorts of lean angles.

If the crash split the race into two parts (and created the first defining moment) then the second defining moment was the crash in Turn Two. The field was all together, riding at a reasonable pace (not insanely fast, not stupid slow), and suddenly sliding metal and carbon fiber.

Riders went around the crash in both directions. As I rolled by I couldn't help but notice a bare carbon rim on the back of one of the two bikes.

Culprit: rolled tire off that back wheel.

A rolled tire.

It doesn't matter how the tire rolled, it's just a bad thing. In fact it's against the rules. Luckily only one other rider went down and it wasn't really bad because we weren't going that fast. I mean, okay, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant for the unfortunate victim (the tire roller doesn't count) but still, no ambulance call and such.

After the crash there were huge gaps in the field. Huge. Like Grand Canyon huge.

Gaps after the rolled tire crash. I'm about to pull through.

Note position in the lane. Zipcar guy holds basically a straight line.

I followed two guys, a Zipcar and another guy. The Zipcar guy was fading so the other guy went right. He wasn't going that fast so I went left and started yet another diesel pull. I'd been doing this to close gaps here and there because my legs lacked the snap to go fast whenever.

I drew up to and past the Zipcar guy, trying to hold station in the middle of the lane, when suddenly the Zipcar guy started hollering.

"Watch your line!"

His hollering turned to gibberish as he tried to retain control of his bike. The guy to his right was now to my right - he'd just slammed the door shut on the hapless Zipcar guy.

Pulling through.

The guy to my right moved over a few feet, squeezing the guy between us.

Note I'm almost on the yellow line now. I've moved over a few feet even after clearing the Zipcar guy.

I told him to pull when he pulled through. I suppose I should have said something about holding your line. Whatever, I moved over to the left to give the guy room, in case he wanted to come over more. He got on my wheel and I set about closing the gap to the CLR guy ahead of us.

Ironically Mike was pulling the CLR guy. I didn't realize he was there until they went through a turn - that's when I realized there was an Expo in front of the CLR guy. If I hadn't pulled so hard I think a bunch of riders would have been out of contention. As it was I inadvertently brought a bunch of competitors back to Mike.

Many of the riders sat up - the announcer said that half the field had given up. I'm wondering now if there was a crash back there. A friend in the race said there were four crashes and I only saw two. If there was one when the guy came across the Zipcar guy's wheel then that would make sense.

I found myself in trouble, desperate trouble. I worked super hard to bridge the gap after the crash, watched others fly past me, and hung on for dear life. Then I was done, dead legs, mid field.

I'm exploded and gapped.

I felt totally wasted, unable to move. Of course my body was automatically trying to recover so while I was busy letting people pass me my heart rate was dropping, my legs recovering, and when I looked up I realized that, okay, I'm not totally blown.

I put my head down and ground the big gear back up to speed. Curiously I found that my legs weren't cramping at all today. I pushed big gears, could keep pushing, and somehow my bike kept going. I just couldn't go fast, that was the limiter.

I persevere and claw my way back on (this is before I'm "on").

I had much higher speed going into the turn, and combined with the fact that I didn't have to take others into consideration it meant that I could corner at full speed. This got me back on the back of the group.

Unfortunately the guy in front of me started to disintegrate just as I got on his wheel. I knew it was inevitable but for whatever reason I waited until he sat up a bit before I moved over. He was waving his hand in the "pass me, I'm done" fashion as I rode past.

Of course 100 meters later I need to close another gap.

This gap hurt me but it felt much smaller than the prior gap. I pushed hard again, big gear, just rolling it, and managed to get back on.

With that clawing back on move I realized that, okay, I may make it to the finish. I had no sprint left in my legs, no jump, not even now, but I knew I could make one more diesel type grinding effort.

(As a sprinter you learn real quick your ration of jumps and sprints, and, as you lose your sprint, you start getting a ration of the slower, longer burning "diesel" moves.)

I decided I'd do a 100% effort on the last lap. I figured Jeff would get into reasonable position - he is really good at doing that - but I could get him into great position. If nothing else I could ride next to him and give him some shelter, or I could get on his wheel and force others to pass one more rider before they could pass Jeff.

I rallied on the backstretch - I knew I had just one shot. Luckily the pace wasn't insane so I could move from pretty far back of the field.

Last lap, back stretch, Jeff in the red, as I cleared the Lump.

I got around the "Lump" that forms just behind the head of the field and immediately spotted Jeff about 7th wheel. I figured I might be able to get past the front of the field before the 3rd turn so I ground my way past a couple more guys, eased in a bit, and hollered a very curt, "Jeff!"

He saw, I checked to see that someone moved, and someone did, I hoped Jeff was there, and then I tried to drive it home. 

Unfortunately in my decrepit state I had no speed. I only managed to pass the leadout guy after he blew up so I was third going into the third turn (where, apparently, the leadout guy went straight, taking someone with him). The guy on my wheel, a seemingly less experienced racer, couldn't stay on my wheel (I couldn't see back there but he'd been cornering a bit wobbly before so I figure that trend continued) and so we had a slight gap going into the second last stretch. I had stopped pedaling, waiting for the wave of riders to engulf me, but when no wave hit me I had to try and close the gap.

Last lap, just before last turn.

We went into the last turn, my legs like wood. I had no sprint for sure, no jump, and now I had no diesel. I had absolutely nothing left. I pedaled squares and triangles for a few seconds and then a bunch of guys flew by me.

Jeff was one of the first ones. I don't know how he did in the sprint (we never really bothered figuring that out) but he was second I think, maybe third. That was good enough for me.

Overall the race went well. I went in thinking I'd race for 20 minutes in 75 degree temperatures. Instead I raced for over an hour in 80-93 degree temperatures, used everything I had in my legs, and helped a teammate even when I was at the end of my tether.

As a bonus a young rider I know did just his second race in the Juniors. He approached me, with his parents, at Bethel this year, with a few questions, and things grew from there. I've been trying to help him with a solid approach to racing, trying to give him some guidance to see him through the very tough times that most young Juniors face. He's shown a sense of humor about the whole thing, like when he wryly reported that he got lapped "about 15 times" in his first race (it was way fewer than that). In today's Keith Berger race he did well, working with a chase group, behind the "older" racers, and finished with a good sprint.

Although it's good when I can do okay in a race, it's a bit more rewarding to accomplish something as a team. It's fun to work together with other riders, even if it's not for a race winning thing. If, by working together, we can elevate one rider above their solo potential, then we've accomplished something. If I hadn't closed a gap, if Mike hadn't closed a gap, if Chris hadn't closed a gap, would the field have had the same sprint it did? It's hard to say, but the fact remains that we all worked hard so that one of us, Jeff in this case, could try and optimize his performance.

Even more interesting is to try and guide someone on their own foray into racing. It's tough because I can't do anything for them once they start the race. I'm sort of helpless watching from the sidelines, hollering something here and there but otherwise unable to do much. I have to let them try it on their own, let them experience the disappointment and ecstasy that come with racing.

It's tough because I know that as a new father this is something that I will be experiencing for the rest of my life, with a huge emphasis in the next 5 or 10 or 15 years. It'll be interesting, that's for sure.

(Note: I don't identify most people fully for privacy reasons, except pros and such. I won't identify kids - it's why I call Junior Junior - for the same reason. I have a feeling I'll be writing about the young rider more but since I already christened RTC as Young Rider I need to think of a different name.)