Double Reverse

Last year the direction of the traditional Concord course was reversed due to installation of a traffic circle at one end of the layout. The old uphill chicane is now a fast downhill. Here the P12 field leans it over. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

I've been getting shit from my readers (all twelve of you) for lack of posting, and not "letting my personality get in" to the rare boring race report posts that I do come up with. Not sure this one is going to help much, but just like training, if you keep turning the cranks eventually something good happens. This past weekend was supposed to be the Mt. A TT, but the organizers were forced to cancel it due to the condition of the dirt road section. While the dirt section provides just one of the unique elements setting Mt A apart from ordinary time trials, the loose gravel and stray rocks this year would have prevented anyone from maintaining speed without a 90% chance of flatting. They made the right choice, and may even think of reconfiguring the event in the coming years to make it more appealing to the large base of participants in the 13 race Maine time trial series. Anyhow, I'd planned a sort of peak for Mt A, or at least arranged my training so that I stood a chance of being fit and fresh for the weekend. With the event canceled, I changed my focus to the Concord Criterium.

This year's edition was the 30th annual. Amazing. Concord holds the distinction of being the only crit that I've ever had my sorry ass pulled from, at least that I remember. Way back when the race was promoted by Mark Hibbard of the ABC club, it rained, and this was before I knew enough to warm up well anyway. The race started, immediately went single file, with me and a bunch of others at the wrong end of the line. Dick Ring called "prime for this group" and we sprinted, then the next thing I know an official is in the road whistling us off. Having never been pulled before, I didn't know what was going on until the guys I was with said "we're done" and rode off the course. I made sure that never happened to me again. Of course these days the officials are kind and gentle and they usually leave lapped riders on the course, but that's a rant for another day...

For 28 years the Concord race went around White Park in a counter-clockwise direction. However, in the past few years the Live Free or Die state has been installing euro-style traffic circles (not big rotaries like here in Mass) to replace high-traffic four-way stop intersections. And the old Concord downhill was one such place. The new traffic furniture made the spot unsuitable for bike racing, just too narrow and awkward to take at speed. Rather than give up on the venue, the new promoters, NHCC reversed the direction of the race course. What was down was now up, and what used to be up is now down. Concord was already among the more technical crits to survive the years, and now the twisty part would be a fast downhill series of tight turns leading to the flat sprint. The old run-in to the finish, which was a fast, wide, gradually downhill boulevard would now be a false flat climb, leading to the traffic circle and islands, which were quite a pinch point.

Normally I'm not one to enter multiple races in one day, but NHCC was only charging $10 for a second race and I wanted to support their event so I pre-regged for the 45+, the 35+, and even the Cat 3 race, which I never intended to do, but just in case I got there late and missed the 45+ or whatever, I made my $10 donation. And in fact I did get there kind of late. Not that it was my fault. Saturday morning I'm laying in bed and thinking about getting up and making coffee and boom, someone crashes their car into a pole and my power goes out. Was over an hour before it got going and that set me back, what can I say. The 45+ was at 11:50 and I got there at 11:25. The start list and numbers had already been turned in! WTF? Almost a half hour before the race. I ran over to the official's stand and found Marka Wise and she totally hooked me up and got me registered, spanking everyone involved in the process. Very VIP. Thanks Marka!


Four mouth breathers head up the road in the 45+ race. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

Three race numbers in hand I literally ran back to my vehicle, pinned up a skinsuit, threw my bike together and headed to the line. So much for a good warmup. We had about 50 riders registered, and I had several team mates: Cronoman, Timmy, Big John, Jim B, Billy C, Mike the Bike, Gregor B. I'd never had a chance to see what the course looked like in this direction. We're doing 20 laps and it's a bit over a mile around. Off we go and the pace is HIGH right away. The pinch point took some getting used to and there's more uphill after that, so you sprint out of it. The downhill (formerly uphill) was a lot wider than I recalled (going up we were always bunchy here) so it really flowed pretty nice. The quick left/right series onto the homestretch was a little tight, but nobody tried anything stupid there. Not to say that some of these guys aren't hacks on a technical course. Let's just say the back was no place to be at this race.

I don't remember a lot of details. There were primes. Riders tried to go. After a few laps I noticed I felt good on the boulevard false flat and when two riders had a nice gap I shot up the side and bridged up to them. It was Adam Sternfeld (RaceMenu-M1) and an OA guy who I think was Ron Bourgoin. After another lap Eric J Carlson (Blue Steel but I'm saying Team BONK cuz I'm a traditionalist) bridged up to us, making a foursome. We had a decent gap. There was a prime sprint but I did not go for it. All four of us were trying but we never got to working very smoothly together. And it was friggin' hard. For sure this was a breakaway course, but this was too early in the race and we did not have a Team Sunapee rider with us either. After three laps they were ringing the prime bell again and all I heard was "two places, one hundred and fifty" so I'm thinking a c-note for first and half-a-yard for second (in Dick Ring parlance). The pack is close and this break obviously wasn't going the distance so when we came back around I sprinted for all I was worth and took it from Bourgoin, which I found strange. He can sprint and I did not think he'd leave $100 on the table that easily. And in fact he didn't, as you'll see in a minute.

Our break got absorbed, and I retreated. Other moves tried to go. The field even split once. There were some issues with the lap cards and we ended up doing 21 laps, not 20, so if you're one of those people who scrutinizes the finish times and average speeds of the various races to see who the real hombres are, don't get too excited by the 35+ being two minutes quicker than the 45+. Near the end of the race it happened again and we were shown 5 to go twice, but they caught it this time and double-flipped to three to go. A break of three or four guys had maybe 10 seconds at that point, and there was a block on, so I made another move on the hill to try to get across. The blockers (foolishly IMHO) came after me, towing the field up to my wheel, which was now halfway across the gap. I'm pulling off and I realize these guys are not coming through. Well, they should have just let me join the break because now I've cashed in my chips and the best thing for me to do is drag the field up to the break so that one of my mates has a chance in the final. And even when I'm too gassed to race for myself, this is one ability I retain, so that's what I did, end of break. At the end it was the usual field sprint melee and I rolled in at the back, hopefully saving something for the 35+ race.


The 35+ break sets up in the transition from the downhill right hairpin to the quick left/right. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

There was a long break between the two races, because the Pro/1/2 event was stuck in there. Heading over to the prime table to get my $100, the girl says "number 216, you get the jacket" and she hands me a ski parka with VOLVO emblazoned on it. Huh? I guess Fries was announcing "a one hundred and fifty dollar jacket." Proper English is "one-hundred fifty" Rich... And it's a womens' size XL. In the men's race. Well it's a very nice garment, and I think it might fit my niece, so thanks. I hadn't had time to pin up my other numbers before the 45+, so I took a fresh skinsuit and got it all sorted out. I ate a PowerBar and got organized and tried to stay out of the sun. A lot of friends came by and that took up time and the next thing I know it's almost race time and my legs are seizing up from sitting around. I hurriedly headed down to the start to find there were still four laps to go in the Pro-am so I sprinted back to my car and slammed a 2x caffeine blackberry Gu. That was my warmup. The race starts, again with around 50 riders, including a few brave women and a bunch of 45+ refugees at the back of the pack. We roar up the hill and Keith Ford (Sunapee) says "damn that stings" as all of us felt the last race in our legs.

I was determined to just be patient and wait in the field, planning to try an attack within the last five laps. My experience in the 45+ led me to think that even though the course suited breakaways, it would be too hard to stay out there for a long time. I had a bunch of team mates in this race too, most of the guys from the 45+ and then John Dieli, who was underage and fresh. The back of the pack in this race was even worse than the 45+. I'm really starting to think masters races need to be Cat 1-3. This was BAD. So I reluctantly moved up. There was some action up front, but I wasn't close enough to see who/what was going on. There were some primes and I guess our hero Murat won himself a pair of socks.

I was carefully watching the lap cards. At 12 to go, a three rider break had a nice gap, maybe 8 seconds. I could see Dave Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel) and this just looked dangerous to me, even though this was too early. I'd been getting through the corner at the end of the homestretch really well, going around it wide at full speed. This let me take a good run at the field up the false flat. Other riders I'd talked to had said they were suffering here, but for me it was the best part of the course. I made a go but before I cleared the front everyone moved over and I got pinched into the curb. OK, no problem, it's too early anyway. Then the next time around in the same spot I could tell the break was riding away. Train leaving the station as Dick would say. It was time to go, and off I went. Nobody followed. Probably looked like suicide as the gap was out over ten seconds by now, and there was some wind up.


Heart rate graph showing near max effort for four minutes to bridge, then settling in for 10 laps of pain. The sine wave is the elevation plot.

On the hill I easily made it more than halfway. So easily in fact that I had second thoughts about bridging at all, because if it ain't hard then that usually means the break is coming back to you, and the cavalry will be joining you from behind any second. A look over the shoulder proved this theory wrong though, and I persisted. And it really wasn't that easy, as the high spot in my HR graph above shows. Adding insult, I made no more progress on the downhill and flat portion of the loop, dangling five or six seconds back. Fries encouraged me as I came through the finish and back into the climb again. This was do or die; I had to get on by the downhill. Digging in, I made it, barely. The break was focused and I was pretty stealthy about it so I was able to hang back there for a bit before my presence was detected a half lap later. The break contained Kellogg, Bill Yabroudy (NBX-Gansett) and Sven Lohse (Wheelworks). This break was working smooth. But we had nine or ten laps to go. I worked. Hard.

Nobody in this break missed a pull the rest of the way. We were smooth. Sven appeared to be suffering but he did not sit out. After a few laps I was in agony and almost praying to be caught. I thought about pleading that I was cooked from the bridge and asking for a respite, but these guys were all committed so I was too. Our pulls came up in varied spots so some laps one of us would be lucky and get a little recovery and there were other spots were it really sucked but we all shared in it equally. We did not have a Sunapee rider with us, so I knew there would be a chase. None of these guys had big teams either, so it was up to my guys to block, which you can see in Nick's pictures they did.

At four or five to go a guy at the roadside told us "20 seconds." I did not think that was enough. Apparently neither did the others and we all dug in. I don't think there were any primes to mess us up. The next time around the guy said "30." Nice, but we kept digging. I was not thinking about how to win the race. I just wanted this break to go. Two to go and the guy says "36" and Fries tells us "your gap is secure." I'm thinking no f'n way it is, but we did slow a little. Please don't let them smell blood. If we end up back in sight we'll be doomed by the Sunapee train. One to go and I'm on the back of the line at the start/finish and I looked back and saw nobody. Ok, now what? Kellogg and Yabroudy basically live in breakaways and they're in this situation every week. Sven is strong but he appears to be hurting. Yabroudy was not in the 45+ race because he is too young, and he is the strongest guy here, as well as the fastest finisher. I'm thinking I have a chance to beat Dave in a sprint because he is a climber. On the uphill I know if I want to win I have to attack but my calf is cramping and I'm fighting to hang on. If I attack, in all likelihood I'm going to shell myself. It's a long way around. How close is the field? We definitely slowed down this lap. Can't risk cramping up. Sven ends up leading down the backstretch with me second wheel. Into the downhill turns he's pumping his elbow. I don't really want to come through, but I figure it's all downhill and not hard pedaling, so go ahead and take my line. I'm rolling and taking an extra gear. I'm pretty fast in the quick left right so I get it rolling. In the last turn I'm going well but Yabroudy jumps HARD on the inside, with incredible authority. He opens up five bike lengths in what seems like three pedal strokes, Kellogg comes around too, chasing. I'm on top of the gear and I remind myself to get on Kellogg like a laser, staying directly behind him in this wake. Sven is coming up on my left but I find speed and am able to close up on Dave. The line is a long way away and I'm actually putting on a good sprint. Dave must not know I'm coming back and as Yabroudy puts his hands in the air Kellogg might have conceded a bit and I draw even. He jumps again and we do the bike throw and neither of us is sure who got second. We actually got pretty close to Bill, maybe a bike length because he was doing the victory thing.


First time I can remember making it into a bikereg finish photo.

It does not take long for my team mates to appear from behind, as it was down to 15 seconds at the end. I'm just about puking. Murat comes by and tells me he's got beer in his cooler. After a very slow cooldown lap, the Cat 3 race is already starting when we come around, but I'm harboring no thoughts of that. We go to results and I meet up with Dave's brother Tom Kellogg, and he tells me Dave thinks I got it, and Fries confirms this when they announce results. Normally when I get second I feel like I let a win slip away but in this case, against these riders, I was very happy to make the bridge and work hard in an honest, successful break. Congrats to Bill for his win, he was the fastest. The others showed their class too. Me and Murat had a brew and then I did my cooldown ride, which worked out fine.


Here is some of that personality you were asking for.

The next day we had an informal club time trial on the old Plaistow WMSR course. We setup handicaps, and of course mine was zero. Fifteen of us competed, and I won, but my legs were toast from Saturday. Then we rode at 15 mph up to Exeter for coffee at Me and Ollie's before riding back at what was supposed to be an even slower pace. Someone, and you know who you are, violated our slowness pact, and he will pay in the future. Then we hit Duano's for a pool party. There may have been a 40 of Colt 45, thanks Armand. Great team. Last but not least, sorry to hear about Jonny Bold's injury at nationals. Heal up Jonny. Thanks for reading.


Brought to you by Colt 45 and Billy Dee Williams.