Page Valley Old Guys - Final Road Race of '17

Last year it monsooned on the final lap, and I ruined the bike for a 3rd place finish. This year I took more confidence than brains with me.

I have two cassette ranges: 11-25 and 11-28. The '25 lives on the race bike during crit season, and I tend to reserve the '28 for the steepest of the steep. I ran it last year and couldn't remember hitting the bottom gear, so I figured I'd go for it and run the '25. Three ascents of a Category 4 climb wouldn't be too much.

And it wasn't, really. It was the finish-line climb that sucked.

The first lap felt too slow leading up to the big climb, so I got out front and pulled up the hill with my teammate D. Riddle. Neither of us wanted to be in the front, but the group was all too eager to just let us work. I figured I'd TT it and see how many riders got shelled off the back. We lost a few, but not as many as I'd hoped.

Going down the first big drop, I let the bike do its thing and ran waaaay off the front, letting the pack catch me at almost 30mph halfway down the next road. Again,  nobody was willing to work, so I pulled the group at almost 30 for the next several miles, nearly back to the base of the big climb.

Once again we got thrown out front, and again I just ran it at a TT pace, but by now we had a locked-in set of riders. In a short stint before the final turn, I experimented with laying down some serious power, and put a big gap between myself and the group, letting them catch me on the finish-line climb. This time, though, I was out of gears and a little worried about tackling the same effort on the final lap. Plus I had exposed my hand.

The final lap, again a big super-tuck to run down the mountain, and nearly a repeat of the previous lap. Guys refused to do any work. I'd swerve left and right and the pace-line just followed. Finally I jigged hard left and hit the brakes. A grand total of 3 riders passed and started putting in effort, including a guy who'd been projected to win the race.

We got to the base of the climb for the final time, and he was at the front. He pulled for a grand total of maybe 30 seconds and then moved left. I was 2nd wheel and had spent almost 10 miles of the race in the wind, so I moved with him. He didn't appreciate it and brake-checked me. Dick. This is supposed to be a race of guys old enough to know better than to ruin each others' day over bragging rights, but there ya go. I avoided his wheel and watched my heart-rate creep into unhappy territory.

Again we approached the final turn, and again I laid down a big effort to move clear, but I actually forgot to brake for the final turn and nearly went over the bars at the exit, costing me a valuable couple of seconds while I regained composure. In that time, a rider bridged up and ran out ahead into the finish-line climb.

I figured his effort would come up short in the steep pitch toward the line, and indeed I was able to pull alongside him about mid-way up, but by now my heart was pounding out about 190bpm. Brake-Check Guy made a move between us, and we were three-abreast 200' from the end. Then the first dude just stood up and dropped the hammer, rolling off to a solo win. BCG did the same, but to less effect. I had nothing to offer, gassed out and churning on that paltry 25-tooth cog, and we crossed the line with him about half a bike ahead.

3rd again, and Mr. Riddle followed shortly behind in 5th place. The organizers paid cookies 5 deep, so we both got to take home baked goods.

It was a good race, and while we pushed the pace much higher than it was last year, we spent too much time near the front. My lap-2 run to the final turn was a bold experiment, and it will probably work again in the future, but I can't TEST it again in the middle of a race. And next time I'll put a climber's cassette on the bike.

And then I actually won some races!

The Bryan Park Training Series 2017 season is over. I struggled in the middle to find points and put myself into contention overall, but started getting some traction later on. By the time I had a rhythm, the top step of the podium was already out of reach, so I changed my focus to just figuring out how to beat the season points winner one race at a time.

It paid off, because while I *think* he stopped caring about winning right about the same time, it razor-focused my efforts and got me over my fear of tangling with another rider on the final sprint.

In my first win, I rounded the final corner 5 bikes back, but on the fast side, realized I had nowhere to sprint with two guys ahead, and just shouted at them that I was coming through. They gave me room, and I made it work.

The second win was the hardest possible way I could think of to win a race. We were running clockwise, so the sprint was a 45-second affair with the first half uphill. I love going that way, so I ran off for the first prime. And then the 2nd. And coming off that 2nd prime sprint, the two other challengers decided we should make a break of it...with 8 or 9 laps remaining. It seemed foolish, but I stayed with them for a lap or so before deciding it wouldn't hold.

As I was just reaching the front of the peloton, gasping for breath, 3 strong riders broke and rolled across the 1/10 mile chasm to the 2 up front. Uh oh. We'd tried all season to make 2, 3, and even 4-man breaks work, but everybody seemed to agree a 5-man break was really needed. They held their distance at 1/10 mile ahead for two laps while I failed to organize the group.

One other rider tried to bridge across but was dying in the middle, and we just couldn't do anything to chase it down, so I ran off with 5 laps to go, caught the guy in the middle, took a breath, told him to follow, and knuckled down for the remaining distance across. It took 1.5 laps, but we hooked on just as the leaders were starting to up the pace.

With 2 laps to go, the gap was just edging 2/10 of a mile, and we had a group of 7. I was hurting really bad, but stayed glued to the wheel ahead and tried to find any opportunity to rest.

In the final lap, they threw me out front and set up the finish for the only team that had 2 riders in the break. I quickly abandoned any thoughts of the win and just got out of the way, rounding the final turn in 4th. But then the guy ahead sat up to let his teammate sprint. And then the next guy bobbled a shift. And the guy expected to win took a swerving start to his sprint, scrubbing speed. I figured my heart-rate was already a zillionty-five, so why not. I jumped on his wheel, followed him up the hill and into the kink, popped out left and threw everything I had at it, edging him by less than half a wheel. Strava data showed that by the end of the race, we had increased the gap to 3/10 of a mile, or almost 45 seconds!

With that 2nd win, I had secured enough points to end my B season prematurely, just barely out of reach of the 3rd place finisher.