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.
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