In the week leading up to
Chequamegon, I had very little desire to race. Things are super-busy at work, I leave for Interbike this weekend, and 14 hours of driving for a 2-1/2 hour race just didn’t seem like all that much fun. Add to that all the unknowns -- uncertain start procedure, weather, course, field – and my Type A personality was bursting at the seams. Sure, I’m trying to relax and take things as they come, but c’mon, it’s a race!
One other factor weighed heavily: I don’t have the WORS results I need to get a preferred start. So that means lining up with the hoi polloi, waking up pre-5 a.m. and hoping for a good spot. Among 1,800 people. Yikes. Gary tells me he expects preferred starters to finish top 70. That becomes my goal: finish top 70, prove it can be done, and never return.
Rachael kept telling me not to worry, just go with it. She also suggested that we skip riding the end of the course and just ride the singletrack at Telemark as our pre-ride on Friday. I compromised: after 7 hours in the car with Kim and coworker John, we head out and hit the last 7 miles uphill with Rachael’s John, drop down fast to the base, and then I do a quick out-and-back on the narrow stuff. The course is rough but not technical, the singletrack is sweet. Remind me again why I’m racing a wide-open ski trail for 2 hours?
Dinner is late, bed later, and 4:45 is all too soon.
Set-up
Coworker John, Kim and I leave the cabin at 4:59 and drive 70 miles an hour down Hwy 63 to Hayward. We turn right onto Main Street, drive three blocks to the school, and there it is: row upon row already set up. At 5:20 in the morning. We grab the bikes and wade in – we’re probably 7th or 8th row, toward the right of the chute. Damn, it’s early.
We head over to a local diner that opened at 5 a.m. Coffee, English muffins, muesli and chocolate milk later, and I’m making trips to the rest room every 5 minutes as my system kicks into gear. We waste a few more minutes in the attached grocery store before heading back to the school. We find parking and alternate between blowing the heater on setting 4 and running to the porta-johns. Damn, it’s still early.
Finally it’s time to warm up. Which is hard to do, considering it’s only about 35 degrees, and there’s frost on our tires in the chute! I saddle up for about 40 minutes of hill climbing, hit the embrocation for the first time this season, and dive into the melee with my race bike, switching out the placeholder (Kim’s bike). I vow to beat the WORS guy lined up on the front line (what time did he get there?) and the guy warming up on the trainer next to me. There's a large contingent from Alberto's -- maybe I can keep up with Brian and
Brendan?
Fifteen minutes to go becomes five becomes two. Deep breath. Cannon shot.
The opening salvoThis is my kind of start. Mostly neutral, basically a Superweek roll-out. Up Main Street, I’m using all my roadie mojo to stay upright and miss the traffic furniture. I plug a few gaps, move up through the field, and grab onto some trains trying to bridge up to the preferred riders. All of a sudden everyone is locked up, and we’re turning left and then right onto nice blacktop. The whirr of mountain bike tires on pavement is foreign as I notice my heart rate monitor isn’t working and Jerry is spinning 1,000 rpm trying to keep up. I shift into a bigger gear as I pass him, give a shout and keep working my way up.
I feel it before I hear it; I smell it before I see it. BLAM!!! A huge pile-up in the middle of the straight stretch of road, bikes and bodies flying everywhere. I dive left, looking for a gap, and barely make it by as the guy in front of me falls over to the right. I’m on the gravel shoulder, then I’m through with daylight – too much of it, in fact, as the front of the race is all of a sudden 200 meters or more ahead. CRAP!!
I jam, pushing as hard as I can and flying up the road in a blitz of anaerobic fury. Is this a match burning too soon, too bright? Can’t think of that now, I just need to stay ahead of the carnage. People are catching back on, small groups are forming, and then cop car and TURN LEFT, TURN LEFT! All of a sudden we’re diving into the ditch as
a wave of riders rises in front of me, it’s Rosie’s Field!
Down, up, and then up some more.
Zack Vestal, Trek/VW manager (and Masters 30-34 Super D National Champ) goes flying by me on the right. Must’ve gotten caught behind the crash. Scott warned me about Rosie’s, but I’m floating along in the big ring – I feel good, no – great. I should be hurting more than this. I buzz past some folks, latch onto a train.
Scott comes by me telling me to get on, but
I’m too focused and miss my window. This was my biggest mistake of the race – I felt good, and should have gone. Instead, I settled into a rhythm, grabbing groups here and there and just kept trying to move forward.
The raceThe race for me is mostly impressions. The downhills were scary-fast, nothing technical but a lot of loose stuff at insane speeds. I stayed with several groups, but managed to work my way forward – I was out-climbing almost everyone I was with, spinning the big ring in places that had other guys giving up for dead. We pass
Doug Swanson, “Doug, are you all right?” “NO!” A few minutes later, he passes back with two guys in tow – I’m on the back of the group and can’t bridge. Mistake #2. But I pass him again later, he's done.
Up and down and up some more. Eat when you can, stand, sit, grind. Open sections where I can recover and drill it. I integrate a small group with a whole lot of red and white – I think every Trek/VW woman on the planet is here.
Sue, Lea,
Sarah – I can’t tell them apart. I latch onto the back and stay out of their way – if you read Sarah’s report, she can attest to the sketchiness of the guys around them. Stupid racing, and I want no part. Because of that, the group falls apart and I’m sort of nowhere. I pass through OO getting counted in 72nd or so.
On a long gravel climb, I pull away from whomever I was with. I bridge to another group, and then keep on going. Somewhere in there I meet up with another small group of about 6, including Dave Eckel – I know Fire Tower is coming, so I draft for a few minutes and hope these guys can pull it together enough to catch the small group in front of us. No dice. They’re not working – Dave and I and one other guy try, but it isn’t happening. Finally, we hit a hill and I keep on going. I’m alone – 3 miles around the lakes, no idea what’s coming next. And then I turn right.
The finish
I saw the sign, and I’d been warned. But nothing prepared me for the Fire Tower. Holy crap. I get halfway up the first pitch and shift my chain into my spokes. Damn! As I hop off, a huge group of riders surges past me – the same group I had dropped, plus more, had been pulled the past 4 miles by a tandem. In the span of 30 meters, I lost probably 15 places. But with dreams of breaking 70, I pushed on, walk/run/hobbling as my legs wanted to cramp, and finally making it up the last pitch with granny. I crest, take stock, and hit the big ring.
I’m with a couple of guys, and we try to catch the group that just dropped us. I’m feeling the effort, and can’t quite seal the deal myself – on every downhill, every small rise I’m only a second or two behind, but as the pitches get longer and we climb our way to the 7-mile mark, I can’t fully latch on. Somewhere in there I pass
Tristan Schouten. I was warned about the last climb, but didn’t realize just how tough it would be … after this, though, it’s all downhill, so I’m busting a gut to make something happen. Pitch after pitch, progressively getting higher and higher on my cassette, until at last I’m in the middle ring and standing, clawing my way to the food station. Whew. Almost there.
One, no two bodies in front of me. Big ring. I’m flying on the gravel. I pass a guy, and the next person is a woman. Damn. I’m getting girled – is she the first? She’s in red and white, it’s a Trek rider. Big gear, churning it over, we’re diving down as fast as I can make my legs go, trying to catch the guy ahead. She latches on – thank goodness I know this section from Friday. We approach the left turn, I shout a warning, we turn. Road goes up, I keep pushing – and then she’s gone. When will I ever have a chance to pull Sue Haywood in a race again?
Two and a half brutal miles to go. One guy ahead of me, I’m pushing hard to try to catch. It just isn’t happening. Each successive uphill is killing me slowly. I’m looking for the 1-mile to go marker, which means just two more hills. Two guys come FLYING by me, I can’t latch on but I raise the pace. And then, daylight, we’re dropping, dropping and I’m turning, turning … up into the bowl, the crowd is cheering, no time to glance behind, SRAM fencing everywhere, and then a body! A Short & Fat competitor just finishing! Watch out! Go left! Finish!!!
Post-raceI roll around for a few minutes before catching up with
Amy, who’s talking with
Travis Brown. Sue is over in the medical area, looking dazed after having just lost in the last half-mile – with no food or drink, they finally hook her up to an IV. The crowd is enormous, and I’m feeling really good – I drink it all in before setting out to find Kim and a hot shower at the cabin.
After a good clean-up, I wander back over and hang out in the expo area. SRAM is there, the Trek guys have the truck set up, the festival is in full swing. The brats smell fantastic, but I’m not sure I’m quite ready for that just yet ... Instead, we hang out around the Clif tent, grabbing sample Builder Bars for a couple of hours …
Finally, it’s the end of the day. SRAM is breaking down, and the crowd has thinned out. I wander over to the Trek truck and check in with Zack, who is giving me some posters for Interbike. That done, I grab Sue’s attention.
“Hi, Sue, I wanted to introduce myself.”
“Oh, are you that guy in blue?”
“Well, yes, but that’s not why I’m here!”
It was so funny. Here I am, wanting to invite her to the Interbike booth for World Bicycle Relief, and she already knows me because of my team kit!
“My name is Chris, I work for World Bicycle Relief. I just wanted to invite you to the booth at Interbike.”
“Well, I’m not going to be there, but do you want a signed jersey or something?”
And, without missing a beat, she grabs a NATIONAL CHAMPION jersey and dedicates it to World Bicycle Relief! How cool is that?!?! (We’ll be auctioning it off along with some other stuff later this year.) And I checked – the World Bicycle Relief logo is on the Champions jersey!
We talked for a few more minutes, and then it was time to head out. What a class act.
Sunday Funday
Saturday night’s awards got kind of long, and mad props to Jesse and Marko for their single-speed domination this year. So awesome. Big shout-outs too to
Nate and
Renee for bringing home hardware – Nate absolutely killed it in the Short and Fat (who really pulled whom?
Congrats to Jay on some hardware too!), and Renee was rocking it. Even though she’s not a mountain bike racer any more. Nate was super-cool when we stopped by the Hayes cabin on Saturday afternoon, just walked right out and started talking to Kim and me like he was 33, not 13. Classy and mature.
We hung out at the SRAM/Trek bonfire for a while with the Hayes guys until I just about fell asleep on my feet. I had 9 a.m. plans to skip the crit and head out on the Ojibwa Trail with Scott – that 7 a.m. alarm was WAY too early. As I ate breakfast, I tried to track them down in their room … hmmm … they’re not answering my calls …
I rolled down to the lodge as Kim headed out on her ride, and I searched around until I found their room. Scott and
Mark are there with
Don, just getting ready … “Oh,
Gary Fisher joined us for breakfast, so we ran a bit late.” It was just that kind of weekend! One more great ride later, and it was time to roll on home …
AftermathWell, I didn’t quite make it.
I finished 74th overall, coming in just ahead of the lead women. I’m not totally satisfied with my result, but had I held on in the closing miles to finish 71st, that may have been more painful. On the positive side, I raced the full 2:25 – even into the last 1000 meters, I was pushing to catch the guy in front of me and hold off the hard-charging group behind. Rachael’s John finished just a minute behind me – and 16 places later. That’s how close this race can get.
Overall, it was a good experience, and I’m glad I can say I’ve done it. Even though the course is “my” kind of course, I’m not sure how much I want to return – there’s just too many unknowns for my taste, so unless I was riding it for fun, I’m not sure I want to go back. And “fun” for me, right now at least, includes pouring over the results and thinking through the race to find those extra minutes that may have put me in the top 70 … or 50 … hmmm … maybe if I get a preferred start next year …
This pic is really from Tuesday -- it's the view on the way back into town from the Outdoor Demo area. Fun riding, I was able to get 2 hours on Monday and almost 4 on Tuesday. Perfect crit training!
