Tamara, Kirby and I rendezvoused with Joe Ebenroth in Fayetteville, Ark., this weekend for the Joe Martin Stage Race. It was a long, long drive, but stage races are special, and this one in particular has a great reputation. Plus, the road race would have about 4,000 feet of climbing. How could I say no?
Unlike the omnium style of stage race we're more familiar with -- think Fall Fling -- this stage race would be decided by time. And the overall result is what was important: That was where the money was, and that was where the major upgrade points were. Indeed, one could get up to 15 upgrade points on general classification alone.
Not being a time trialist and not expecting to make any time in the criterium, I knew the road race is where I needed to get in a break in order to make any time. But we had only three bullets in our gun -- we'd have to choose our breaks very carefully, lest we tire ourselves out for the TT. Besides, it appeared from previous results that breaks rarely got away on the Cat 3 road race.
Road Race
I felt rather intimidated at the start of Saturday's road race. It looked like a lot of strong dudes and a lot of strong teams. With a huge field from riders from across the south, this was probably the strongest Cat 3 field I'd ever ridden a road race with. And with a few exceptions, I didn't know any of them, so I didn't know whom I had to watch.
About 15 miles in, Joe had already made a few probing attacks off the front but we were gruppo compatto as we finished a climb and made a sharp right to climb even higher. Up the hill I noticed the Mesa junior who had ridden away from the Hillsboro-Roubaix in April. He had a large team here. I checked the elevation chart I'd taped to my top tube and confirmed that this was indeed a good point of attack, and I could hear people around me laboring. As soon as the rider in front of me moved to right to give some room, I attacked up the yellow line in pursuit.
I caught him easily, introduced myself and continued up the climb. Soon we were joined by two other juniors, one of whom had the stripes of a national championship. Turns out the other was a junior national champion, too.
I have dress shirts in my closet older than these kids, but I recognized this as a good group. Mesa is a well-organized and coached team, so even though the other two lacked teammates, I knew we could count on Mesa to keep the pack in check. We quickly settled into a fast paceline up and over the climb and onto the course's difficult rollers.
Within a few miles the moto ref gave us a time gap of a minute. A few miles later, it was up to two minutes. Our priority needed to be to create a time gap that would hold up in the GC. I didn't want the pack to get close enough that the time trial could put people within reach. I was extremely motivated: My entire weekend hinged on this break.
I tried to take on the role of big brother. I told my companions that we needed to keep the pace up and be neutral all the way to the line. I reminded them to eat. They barely acknowledged me. It was like I was the teacher and they were the students ignoring the lecture while they IM'd amongst themselves.
Nonetheless, we stayed collegial and cooperative. When one of the juniors ended up in the gravel, I got the others to wait for him to catch back on. The favor was returned when I myself rubbed wheels and ended up in the grass myself. (In fact, I managed to rub wheels three times in the break but kept it upright each time. Hooray for wheel-rubbing exercises!)
Finally we turned for the final 10-mile stretch home. The moto ref was telling us there was no chance the pack was going to get us, but I insisted we keep up the pressure. On we rolled like a team time trial.
I was still feeling great at this point. I weighed an attack. The possible benefits were obvious. A win, for one thing, and GC time into everyone. But there were risks, too: The three juniors could work together to counter and dump me, leaving me in no-man's land. Or, it could open up hostilities that would slow all four of us down, eliminating any gains we'd made.
I decided to hold back. Better for us to continue to cooperate. Besides, it was a downhill finish, and all three of them were confined by junior gearing. Surely even I could win a downhill sprint against junior gearing. Surely!
Alas, I let some cat-and-mouse develop and we didn't come down the final stretch with enough speed for the gearing to make a difference. It all came down to technique, and my technique, as I have regularly established, stinks. I got fourth by half a wheel.
In retrospect, I should have wound it up much earlier. Sure, it may have just led them out, but maybe I could have gotten enough speed so that they'd spin out. Either way it would have put more time into our gap.
In any case, the field rolled in exactly 3 minutes later. Perfect. Surely that would be just enough cushion against calamity in the time trial. Surely!
Uphill time trial
Five hours later -- after some lunch, a nap and a ferocious thunderstorm that brought tornadoes to surrounding counties -- it was time for the uphill time trial. It was a 2.8 mile course that after a downhill start pitched upward at an average of 6.8 percent and long stretches of 10 percent.
Randy's warm-up advice couldn't have come at a better time. I spent 45 minutes in the trainer tent generously provided by Cyclops and hustled to the line less than a minute from my start, loose and ready.
As usual, there's not much to say about a time trial. I knew that the key would be pacing. I didn't go all out in the flat, because the time gains were to be made on the uphill. I kept it steady, and it wasn't until 1km to go that I got out of the saddle and gave it everything.
Based on what I'd seen from previous results, my goal was 11 minutes, and I beat that handily: 10:13. More important, I didn't lose much time on the GC. The three juniors ahead of me all gained time, but 5th place gained only 30 seconds. (Most important of all, I'd beat Ed's time from last year.)
Now I just needed to get through Sunday's criterium without a major disaster. I would have to either get lapped or a DNF in order to lose my 4th place, and I lost a lot of sleep worrying about both.
Criterium
What a fantastic course. This was the kind of course Chicago desperately needs: 8 corners, 1.3 miles, with more than 100 feet of climbing on each lap. Think Downers Grove but steeper, more interesting and safer, or Snake Alley but longer and not as crazy.
I sat 19 seconds out of 3rd place, 24 seconds out 2nd and 49 seconds out of 1st. Gaining would be nice, but I wasn't hopeful. My only chance was if some of them were tired after staying up to playing Grand Theft Auto or going to a rave or whatever the kids are doing these days. Maybe, just maybe, I could get in a separation and isolate one or two of them.
Watching the early races, I thought the turns looked fast and technical. Turns out they weren't so bad, especially as the fields strung out. Still, I was very fearful of a crash, as that could wipe out all of Saturday's gains, and with the downhill sections hitting 40 mph, a crash could wipe out even more.
Indeed, there was a crash on a false flat. It wasn't serious, but 3rd-place told me he barely got through it. I'm glad he did. I would hate to advance on GC based on a crash, mechanical or any other misfortune unrelated to fitness and talent. I presume all sporting gentlemen feel the same way.
I made a few hard efforts up the hill, but I wasn't strong enough to attack over the top. With 1 to go I put in one last hard dig, but the three juniors were all on it like lions on a wounded yak. So I just sat in and didn't even contest the final climb. I finished with the pack, which is all I wanted. Fourth place in the GC was mine, probably the most important result of my career.
In sum
This was a fantastic weekend of racing. I hope to return next year, and I encourage people to consider it as well. These are fantastic races. Plus, stage racing is always good experience, no matter how well you do, and the organization at Joe Martin is top notch. Even though my prize money barely covered my share of the gas, it was well worth the trip.