Tour de Tuscaloosa Race Report

Failure is usually not very exciting to read or write about, but in rare cases, the failed efforts to win a race can be more exciting than the races result.

Tarantino style, we'll get back to that later.

Saturday night was the crit. Joe was gonna do that Cat 4 race at 6:00, and I was slated to start the Cat 3 race at 7:00. Sunset was at 7:08, so it was a certainty that Sam and I would be rocking the 3's race in the lights. Joe sat in for most of the crit, we saw him on the front of it a few times, never doing any work. It seems we are all still gassed from our training camp, because when it came to the sprint, Joe had no legs and sat in.

The 3 race was just as boring. With stiff headwinds and hills on most of the course, the likelihood of a break getting away in the races was very slim. So I didn't plan to try. From the line it was doomed. I missed clipping in and went from first to 30th in a metter of seconds. As it got darker, things got sketchier. The TdT organizers apparently did not plan for the lack of lighting on the bottom part of the course, under the bridge, and it was essentially blind for most of the end of the race. A Frazier cycling rider got way off the front for a bit, but we slowly brought him in without rushing. My legs were shot the whole time, and I was having difficulty moving through the pack. There were a couple close calls, but thankfully no one crashed. with 3 to go it spread out a bit more and on the sprint I managed an amazing 19th place finish...woot.

I felt much better Sunday morning. Did a lot of carbo loading the night before, and Sam and I worked out a daring strategy to take the road race by storm. Since we were familiar with the course, and the field was unfamiliar with us, our best bet for a win was to break away early. And about 3 miles into the race, we took off. For some reason I had no trouble moving through the pack today. Sam attacked, I followed, and the pack let us go just as we expected. We pounded it up the first small steep hill and then went into full on TT mode for the next 5 miles. The motorbike told us we had 2 minutes at the sharp right hand turn. We kept pushing it until the long climb, at which point we decided to tempo up it instead of pushing the pace. The 3 field proved to be mediocre climbers the day before, so we figured the fact we were out of sight would aid us in staying away. We got up the hill well away from the pack, but we had lost a lot of our time advantage, which was only 37 seconds when we crossed the start finish. When we hit the short steep hill again, the pack was on us. A chase jumped up to us, and I tried to counterattack, but the field wouldn't let me away again. After 12 miles away, our breakaway was over

This is the part when failure gets interesting. Sam, for some reason, decided to roll up next to me and have a chat about making another move. The guy on his right decided to swerve into him. HE was leaning on Sam, Sam was leaning on me. After about 30 seconds of back and forth, trying to stay vertical, Sam hit my handlebars after a final lean from the other guy, and I was diving for the asphalt. I have a shoulder that likes to dislocate spontaneously, so I immediately moved to protect it, even before I hit the ground. I knew I was going to get hit, I was in 5th or 6th place when I went down. And sure enough, bodies, bikes and pieces of bikes were slamming into me. I waited for the crashing and grinding to stop, then immediately checked the damage. Shoulder in place, all limbs movable. Once I untangled from the carnage and walked it off, I surveyed the bike. Front tire, torn off the rim and ripped. Front wheel, solid. Rear brake lost its pads. Handlebars crooked. Front brake loose, and hoods both bent in. Some allen wrenches and hammering made the bike rideable, and a borrowed wheel from Jacob of Tria got me to the finish line. The pain would wait a few hours to rear its ugly head. Sam stuck it out, and finished out with the pack. In the sprint, he took it up a notch and rocked to a 4th place finish, taking home a hundred bucks for his work!

Joe was sitting in the Cat 4 field at the time. When I saw him come around the first time, the pack was split in 3. A main group, a tiny chase group, and a tail group. Joe was in the main group. When they came around to finish, Joe was mid pack, and the downhill finish definitely didn't suit his strenghts. He finished in the pack.

While Sam and my break was a good idea, no one joining us doomed it. Sketchy riders ruined my day, week, and probably my chances of a good results next week too. Next week we travel to Banner Elk for the Lees McRae races!