Yup, I did not reg for the 45+ and it filled up. Thought about the 35+, but decided to wait and make a game day decision, because of my recent slowness. Then race morning it rained. I was going to bail out on it, but the 3s didn't go until 1 pm, and the radar showed some promising signs. Around 1100 am, when the masters races were just going off, it was pouring at my house, and I heard later that on the course it was even worse. But I loaded up my backup bike, ancient GP4 wheels, and even my old shoes and made the sixty mile trip north, just making it before the close of registration. My car thermo read 55 degrees; it seemed warmer, yet inside the school there were a dozen riders from earlier races wrapped in mylar blankets, shivering from hypothermia. Hmmmm.
It was only drizzling by now. Trackrich was working the race for the host Minuteman club, and he gave me the 411 on course conditions. I'd packed a pretty light selection of clothing, but after seeing the flash-frozen racers at reg, I went with my Hasyun wool undershirt, arm and knee warmers, and toe covers. Four layers of newspaper up the jersey, and an extra pair of long gloves in the pockets in case the first pair got too wet. And yes, a cycling cap under the helmet, visor forward.
Probably the last to register, I received bib number 68. There must have been a dozen or so no-shows, as on the line the field appeared to be around 50-55 riders. I had zero warm up, but the first 5k or so is neutral to get from the school to the course, but then it's uphill for about 1/4 mile. Sterling is an 8 mile loop, and it's one of those courses where it seems like almost the entire thing is downhill. I guess you gain the elevation on the short finish hill and then a bunch of little rollers that all add up, but don't feel much like climbing when you're in a bunch. And that is where I'd be today.
I've raced hundreds of Cat 3 races. When I started there was no Cat 5, and my career as a 4 lasted only three months before I was upgraded. And I've been there ever since, never bagging high finishes consistently enough to satisfy the powers that were for upgrading to a 2. Then I became a master and since then I've only done one or two Cat 3 races a year. They never seemed all that hard. Until yesterday. Maybe I'm getting old (well duh), and there were several juniors in the field whose fathers I normally race against. But hopefully I was not having a good day. With the lack of warmup, I was on the ropes right from the gun. It did not help that having not seen the course since last year, and expecting puddles and debris from the morning downpours, I was leaving myself extra space. Anyone who thinks that old-school wheels are not much slower than deep carbons is crazy. With the GP4s, closing up little gaps at speed was WORK! I was feeling like I had my pants around my ankles, face down in the mud behind the 7-11, the field having its way with me.
Still on lap one, heading onto Route 12, someone ten riders ahead of me let a huge gap open. I was trying to conserve energy and sit on wheels, but these guys were not closing it, instead letting it grow. The field was drilling it and the next thing I know it's 10-15 seconds. Seriously, just from shitty cornering. This is what I get for riding at the back. I had no choice but to take the initiative and show these punks how it's done, driving the chase group for about a kilometer until it got close enough (and the field slowed) for someone else to finish the job. Burning matches on the first lap just to stay with the field, not a good sign. By the time I got anywhere near comfortable, we were back in Sterling center at the base of the climb. The good news was, this was the only place on the course where I wasn't struggling to hold my spot. A break moved off though, I think three guys, and I'm pretty sure two of them stayed away to win. Me, I just fought to hang, passed at least ten riders, but at the top the only one behind me was the follow moto (who kind of annoyed me all day by basically riding in the pack, often taking the good line away from us on the wet descents. But he had a job to do, I guess). The field had shrunk to what looked like 30-35 guys.
I pulled myself together, remembering how to conserve energy on this course, and was more vigilant about little gaps. I could tell this wasn't going to be a day for me to ride the front. Then the third time up the hill, I swear the field got bigger. I suspect a bunch of dropped riders took the bypass and jumped back in. With many riders still covering their numbers under vests and rain capes, it was a perfect opportunity for such shenanigans to go undetected. Whatever. Our field ebbed and flowed. A couple of the laps got pretty fast and strung out. I was just doing the "make it one more lap" thing. Then when I expected to see two to go on the cards, they read three, and my heart sunk. Looking at my watch, it read 1:21 or something, and the neutral had taken eight minutes, so yup, we've only done four circuits. I forced down some gel, probably too little too late. I knew I was shit, as riders around me were chatting pretty calmly at times I was breathing hard. At least I did not know anybody so no one tried to talk to me.
Made it to one to go. Woo-hoo. I could see Eric Pearce (Cyclonauts), another master and maybe the only guy in the race older than me, dangling off the front. Briefly I thought about trying to bridge, as he is strong, but I knew that once in the wind I'd go poof like the famous proverbial fart in a hurricane. Besides, I couldn't really get to the front without burning a match, as well as risking the ire of the heavy-handed yellow line enforcement going on from the moto. So I sat where I was, tail firmly between my legs like I had all day. Oddly, we went pretty slow until we were almost in Sterling, then they wound it up. I was cramping just trying to hold my spot. Uneventfully, we rounded the tight final turn and the "sprint" began. I think I passed three or four leadout riders who had sat up, one racer even more pathetic than I, and maybe a pizza delivery guy on an adult trike. But I made it to the line.
Back at the cars it was not raining, and not cold. I got all cleaned up and packed. The kit was dirty but not horrible. Two runs through the wash would do it. Once I was finished, I stretched a bit and got in the car to begin preparing a sandwich. Suddenly it got dark as all shit, the skies opened up, and by the time I was pulling out of the lot my wipers were on their highest speed and the road had six inches of flooding on it. Score! If I'd stayed home I may not have even ridden. As it was, I got in almost 100k. The race was 40 kph average for 85k, pretty decent. I was near threshold the entire time. I think I'll ride easy today. Thanks for reading, as I know this one was much less fun-filled than usual.
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