After last week's performance at the Hailey 4th of July criterium, I was hopeful for this week's two crits, the Alan Butler Memorial in Idaho Falls and the Jackson Downtown crit here at home. Since we had our one local event and I wanted to perform well in front of friends and all, I decided to only do the Master's event at Alan Butler. We had a nice size field with some good fire power. I noted to one friend from Boise who was a favorite for the win that in the two previous years there was not a breakaway in the Master's race. We hoped to change that this year.
The gun went off and I sprinted off the line, leading the first lap and stringing the field out in the process. It came together and there were a few other attempts. After several laps, one strong rider took off solo. Knowing his time trialling ability, we could not afford to give him too much room. He quickly got 15 seconds and I sounded the alarm with a couple of riders. The counter attack came and I was in it and after a few laps, longer than I would have thought, five of us bridged and got to work. We put plenty of time into the field and if it had been a longer event (instead of 35 minutes) we probably would have lapped the field.
Final lap came and we started setting up. A strong Salt Lake rider took the honors of the front with two corners to go and I slotted into third position. Just as we hit the second to last corner and I was thinking about opening up my sprint, my front wheel washed out and I was down and sliding into the hay bails. WTF? I guess it was some hay straw that I got just right. Whatever. It was over. I got back on my bike and limped in, totally forgetting the huge gap we had and that the race was still "on". I just was not thinking about that, shredded and bleeding as I was.
Interestingly, I failed to notice the other pile up as I rounded the corner for the line. Yep, the other 5 guys burned in on the last corner with only one staying up and going ahead for the win. If I had been thinking, I could have rolled in for second without breaking a sweat but instead got passed by the sprinting field with 20 meters to go. Freakin' idiot! I was just so disappointed that I failed to see the big picture. Oh well.
On to Jackson
So, I was left with missing skin on my right hip, butt and elbow and a bent derailleur hanger but little else. I didn't sleep too well Saturday night with my hip and forearm giving me grief. Still, my legs felt pretty good in the morning. My derailleur hanger was bent so I brought into the local bike shop and they bent it back for me. Seemed like everything was in order for a good run at the Wyoming State Criterium title. I was hoping to win both the Master's and Pro, 1,2 title. My skin suit was shredded from the night before so I donned a regular kit of shorts and a jersey. I saw a guy in a crit a few weeks ago with forearm pads and some sort of pad tucked into his shorts. Might have to look into those.
We had 6 team members on the line for the Master's event. This would be my first race with them all season where I had more than one or two teammates. There was a nice little crowd on the finishing straight thanks, in part, to the Snake River Brew Pub putting up bleachers in their parking lot. Apparently, they got a nice little hit of business from the event.
Anyway, the gun sounded and I got into my pedal fast and was gone on a flyer just for fun for a couple of laps. We were soon back together with another teammate countering as we regrouped. There were lots of little breaks forming and reforming but nothing stayed away. I won one of the primes offered. With 3 laps remaining, one of the strong guys in the event took off alone. It was an impressive move as he was countering his own attack just a lap prior. He was clearly one of strongest out there as he got 10 seconds quickly. I rallied the guys from the back but we had lost a couple during the event. We really needed one more good push with a lap to go to bring the guy back. My one teammate just off the Grand Canyon after a 10 day float was fired up to give me the lead out I needed. He attacked hard on the final lap, got a nice gap and took me within 300 meters of the line, with me yelling and encouraging him the whole way. I came off his wheel and finished it off but was about 10 meters short at the line, getting second but winning the title as the first Wyoming rider. Small consolation. Still, it was super fun riding with my teammates and engaging in classic road racing tactics.
Down again
The Pro,1,2 race started about 90 minutes later. I was not super motivated but wanted the double title opportunity so I lined up. There was a $100 prime for the first lap so it was fast as shit from the gun. I got an uncommonly slow entry into my pedal so I was not vying for the cash. Still, the high pace did it's job in starting the attrition process. Two Cat 1's from SLC were relentless early on keeping the pressure on. The selection was soon made with six of us going up the road. I was at my limit just following wheels. I had to attack hard to make the final selection as it formed and was not recovering very quickly from that. Just as I thought I had it made, the guy in front of me got popped and I had to sprint around him to regain the break. That was all it took to send me over the edge and I got dropped one lap later. It was painful dropping off of that group since I knew they would stay away. I free wheeled for a bit waiting for the pack and resumed racing.
We kept it steady with only a few counter attacks coming out of our group. Many riders were lapped during the race making for some chaos on the technical course. With one lap to go, I eyed the right wheel as he came by me in the top 4 or 5 guys. He jumped hard and I got his wheel and we dropped the rest of the chase group. I thought I was golden following him down the back straight waiting to make my final move. As we came into the tricky chicane I saw the lead group exiting. Suddenly, there was a chance I would be sprinting for a top placing instead of the "best of the rest" kind of thing. As I threw the bike into the right turn out of the chicane my front wheel suddenly slid out and I was, once again, on my hip skidding off the course through the road-side gravel.
I was incredulous at the idea of this little bit of glory slipping away. Everything had gone so well in spite of getting dropped initially. Of course, I was sliding across the pavement at 50 km/h on the same hip I had cheese-grated the night before. Lovely! In a moment of ironic lucidity, I shifted my position while I was sliding to get onto some fresh skin. Oh yeah, that's better! Several volunteers tried to help me get up and take my bike from me but I climbed back on and limped to the finish. It was incredibly embarrassing to roll around having crashed yet again. No one could really believe it. Opportunity lost.
I have to say that my confidence is a bit rattled by these two episodes. Not really sure what to make of the loss of traction after going through those corners dozens of times. Wheels? Tires? Bad luck? Certainly, that corner ate several people during the course of the afternoon, sending one guy home with a broken clavicle. I thanked the gods for my good fortune each time I rode by another casualty. How ironic for me to be the final victim. Sucks ass!!
Three days later now and I'm doing okay. The wounds are drying and healing and I'm fighting the urge to pick the scabs already. Yeah, gross, I know. Old habit. I think the experience has ended my season a couple of weeks earlier than planned, however. Just seems to be a sensible jumping point to shift focus on some climbing fun some friends have been considering for August. I hate to abandon the fitness and speed I'm enjoying right now but it feels like the thing to do, all things considered. I will head back to Mountain Athlete and rediscover my upper body for the first time in a couple of years. That'll be interesting and should make for some blog fodder. I should also have a few climbing stories to share with photos to keep things fresh. Stay tuned. - Brian