Race Report: Ride Sally Ride, Cat 3

The NCVC Cat 3 squad went into the Ride Sally Ride Criterium with one of our strongest rosters in a race this year: Will Wong, Dan Schwartz, Karl Anderson, Yon Nuta, and myself lined up next to Avery Wilson in his first Cat 3 race, and Andreas Gutzeit, who won the Master’s 3/4 race just a few hours earlier. (Drew Armstrong had signed up, but punctured his tire while warming up on the W&OD at the worst possible moment...)

The race was quick to start, but not quite painful enough. There was little attrition because it was easy to protect yourself from the wind; a course 4-lanes wide is also friendly to “moving up” on the outside. Andreas and Avery were constantly present at the front, with our victorious German setting the example of how to “cover” the peloton. Nothing threatening got away without NCVC, mostly because he was up there and young Avery (with helmet-cam) was right behind him the whole time. Dan and Will - probably the better sprinters of the group - seemed to be able to protect themselves well, too.

About 8-10 laps into the race, there was a bad crash after the start/finish. From the front, it sounded like someone was taking a baseball bat to carbon fiber; there were loud cracks, bangs, and scrapes. Yon Nuta was caught behind the crash but survived by “riding over someone’s leg." Luckily he kept it upright and took a free lap.

I was all over the place, which is good and bad. I couldn't quite stay in one spot at the front too easily. Ride Sally Ride is a short-loop criterium (only 1km) but its width gives the races a dynamic very different than most “technical” circuits. While I'd get swarmed frequently, it was similarly easy to move right back up, even through the middle of the pack. And it wasn't too hard to move from side-to-side, either.

The weirdest dynamic of the race, because of the width of the course, causes a bit of danger. Everyone would move up on the outside before the turns, then start to slide in narrow for the corners. The guys already leading the pack on the center start to move left (outside), so the pack gets really congested. On a 4-lane wide course, that means a lot of cyclists are trying to share very little real estate.

At one point, someone came wide on Dan through a corner, who swerved wide on Josh Flexman, who swerved wide on me. We all freaked out a bit. No harm no foul, but I almost had to veer off course instead of swerving while banking a turn. It gets sketchy at times, that's racing. After that, I distinctly remember thinking, "move the hell up!"

Well, up the road Andreas was still a haus. I had to move up in the wind, but that wasn't a bit deal at this race. A few guys got up the road and when Andreas looked back, we nodded at each other. Then he bolted. Four guys were up the road from four teams, so a few of us tried to slow things down. A fifth team saw the strategy, and gave a weak chase instead of attacking or bridging. Everyone followed.

I managed to hold position, and a few funny things happened. Andreas and his break were getting caught, so the right thing to do is keep the pace high. My ego got the better of me, though, so I waited until the start/finish to bolt. Sitting third wheel by the line, I jolted.

Why'd I wait? Well, it's nice to catch your breath, but my parents drove out to see the race. Gotta give 'em a show, right? I knew it would probably be a futile attempt, so who cares? The point was to keep the pace quicker. It's safer that way.

I was off the front for about a lap alone when an AABC rider and a Bike Doctor rider joined up. They came one at a time, and I told the first guy to "take a break" and then he helped a bit. When the second guy got there, I started looking back. The gap wasn't gaining much ground and there were a few guys in no man's land. By the time we'd each taken a pull, the race had caught up.

Then the race got... slow. About 14 riders wide across 4 lanes. THAT slow. It was scary and dangerous. Then nothing happened for about 5 laps - the calm before the storm. Literally.

The winds had been escalating, but they had not affected the race one bit. During the lull, I had thought about our team's strategy and my strengths - attack way early on the last lap. I was gauging the wind to see when would be the best time to punch it.

Well, on the fourth-to-last lap, the winds got so bad that the road cones were flying into the peloton, now riding about 14 miles per hour. Everyone was swerving - and rain started flying at us like a wall of darts. I'm pretty sure at least four signs of the apocalypse changed the race in the course of a lap.

When shit goes down, I move up. The peloton scattered all over, slaloming around road cones, so I hit the gas and hit the wind. I weighted my front wheel - which was trying to sail me to the opposite side of the course - and punched it hard. Two guys were up the road with me, my teammate Dan just behind me, and I was actually laughing hysterically while racing frantically. This was NUTS, but I figured it was time to make a race of this little criterium.

As we cornered to the start finish line, I was so pumped. Earlier in the day, I'd joked with a teammate that little crit courses like this are like riding a bike in your bathtub. Now the sky was pelting us with buckets of rain, how appropriate.

I have a sort of insane affinity for horrible conditions. My heart was broken, yet thankful at the same time with what I saw next: a ref standing in the middle of the road (in a full-blow storm, no less) blowing the whistle and waving us off the course.

Aww man, Siggy was just starting to have fun!

It was scarily dangerous out there, though, and if we had to be neutralized for the second year in a row at RSR, so be it. It was definitely a good call!!

- - - -

There were some complaints on the MABRA list about people wanting their $20 registration fee back for not getting to finish the race. You know what I say? Suck it up. I'm a cheapskate, but we got to race. We simply didn't get to race for the line in a silly, inevitably chaotic sprint. If you did nothing before the last three laps to participate in the race and make your Jackson worth its while in attacks or experience, that's your own fault.