Blindsided in Mineral Wells: The Cat 3 Schmuck

Before getting sick a few weeks ago, I had expected to be on top of my form by this weekend and coming off of a successful campaign at Fort Davis.   I hadn't planned on getting sick just in time to miss Davis and lose nearly two weeks of riding.   I was at least back to training but didn't know what I would have in me for racing.   Mineral Wells would have no climbing on the magnitude of Fort Davis, but hopefully Cherry Pie Hill would be my friend.  

I had been hoping that our esteemed race director would make us climb CP hill at least twice and position the finish nice and close to the top.   After looking over the route map, I was disappointed to see that we would only enjoy one slice of pie and would have to descend a few miles before seeing the line.   This would give heavier riders time to catch us climbers if we didn't open enough of a gap at the dessert table.   Oh well, the race is what it is and we all have to ride the same course, whomever it may favor.

In the days prior to this race I was, and I'm sure everyone else was also worried about the weather.   The forecast for Sunday was grim and the trend for a few weeks had been toward violent thunderstorms, lots of lightening and occasional tornadoes.   While getting dressed to race, I was having trouble abiding by the “no nudity” clause due to the effects of swirling winds on my kilt.   Just to make us feel less thirsty, the humidity was enough to make our fingers sticky and the sky would occasionally spit on us.  

As soon as we got started, someone rolled away.   Considering the wind, most of us thought nothing of it other than, “that guy's crazy,” “we'll see him again soon.”   He was quickly joined by two others, but in the mist and haze I couldn't tell who any of them were.   I recognized a San Jose jersey and something white but that's all the detail I could see.

No one made efforts to chase and the gap began to grow.   I began noticing that Tenzing was staying up front and stalling any attempt at an organized chase rotation.   As individuals tried to bridge the gap alone, Tenzing would either slip a man onto the back or quickly chase it down.   It was obvious that they had a man in the break and were betting the farm on him.   They had six or seven men in a small field while no other team had more than three.   This made me nervous.   What worried me more was that the first 40 miles or so appeared to be dead flat and a fierce south wind would not be friendly to a small rider like myself in any solo bridge attempt.   My teammates didn't seem too confident in the conditions either.   Stan handles wind better than I do, but his training has been superceded by work lately.   Patrick is a small man like myself, finding a windy, flat course just as limiting.   Tenzing on the other hand, is blessed with numerous big, muscular riders who hardly notice the wind.  

As the day wore on, multiple individuals and small groups tried their hands at bridging, but all were either infiltrated or caught.   Once a break was caught, the pace would slow to a trackstand, giving up more time to the break.   I came to realize that unless all other teams coordinated to neutralize Tenzing's efforts, the break would stay gone for certain.  

Seeing what needed to happen and actually forming the alliances needed to make it happen are two very different things, in terms of difficulty.   I began by speaking briefly with every non-Tenzing rider involved in the action to point out Tenzing's stranglehold on the group and encourage them to never chase a break unless there was a Tenzing rider involved and to shut down any break if a Tenzing rider latched on just to save energy for moves that would draw GST into chasing.   I also would have liked to have seen counter attacks on every Tenzing action, but coordinating this would have required stopping for a huddle.  

Eventually, we reached a point when we knew that there was no catching the break.   We still didn't like it or accept it.   With 15-20 miles left, after we had finally turned east onto the service road and had some wind protection, I saw the Promised Land: two or three nice hills in a row.   They didn't look big enough for my liking, but I had to do something.   Mario Arroyave (Velossimo) left sooner with Troy Owens in tow.   I waited back for the right slope.   When I saw a nice long grade, I took my leave.   I quickly reached past my threshold and felt like I hadn't yet revived this system since being sick.   I stayed on the gas, though, and my pursuers faded.  

Somehow along the way, I picked up two passengers and I don't remember how.   Chris Lowry (Sugar Cycles) and Joe Giardano (Tenzing) may have been up the road or may have bridged to me.   Being in the red for minutes on end can do that to my memory sometimes.   At the top of the hill, I still wasn't convinced that this jaunt would survive, so I took a few moments to recover and watch the group response behind.   When we passed the feed zone someone shouted “six minutes”.   I started laughing and couldn't stop.   Our pack had been completely blindsided by this break and then hamstrung by the Tenzing Army.   We soon caught Mario and Troy.   Although GST had just recently been our nemesis, it was now apparent that with teammates in the pack and no chance of their man in the break getting caught, these guys were our new best friends.   Ain't politics great?

I encouraged our new friends to help us establish a nice second break (calling it a “chase group” would be a little optimistic).   Initially, they expressed concern about the climbs and their weight (neither was a munchkin).   I asked them to get us down the hills fast and assured them to that we would get them up the hills fast.   Soon we were rotating fairly well but still suffered occasional stall-outs and skipped pulls.   In accordance with my prior garauntee, I tried to do a heavier share at the front on inclines, but these efforts were beginning to charge a tax.   Eventually, I recognized the base of CP Hill and knew that this was my only chance to seal up a top 5 slot.   I was betting that Mario would climb well and that the Tenzing boys would fall back, but Chris Lowry was an unknown quantity to me.  

Mario not only climbed well, but got up and left the building.   Joe was quickly dispatched, but Troy and Chris stayed within reach of me.   Because the lower slope of CP hill is a little unsavory to me, I expected to be able to deliver a deathblow once the slope steadied out and I could get my rhythm.   At the expected point I shifted up and accelerated.   Chris dropped back but Troy stuck with me.   I shifted again, and then again.    Troy was still there, and then came around.   I was stunned.   I'd been matched on a big climb by a big man.   I'm reverting to my “been sick” excuse for this one!

Once we started downhill I was roasted, but Troy now had the gravitational advantage.   In no time, he opened a gap that I just couldn't close in my dazed state.   I was then caught be Chris and tried to work with him but he was taking stringer pulls than I could, opening gaps that I couldn't close.   After several turns he got away from me and then proceeded to catch Troy, who had already caught Mario.   In the sprint for fourth, Troy opened up the sprint that had won him the state road race last fall, taking the last payout spot.

In our post-race debriefings, I learned that Tommy Rushing of Wooly Mammoth, in his first cat 3 race, had driven the break from start to finish and that Marc Bergeron (San Jose) and Kyle Russell (Tenzing) had just been happy to go along for the ride, agreeing to only race each other for second.   Tommy is obviously a powerful rider and certainly caught us off guard that day, displaying an inspired ride.   Tenzing spent the day showing us all how a cohesive team operates and just how effective it can be.   No longer, though, will a Wooly Mammoth jersey sneak off the front unsupervised.   I learned once again that you just can't beat a large team, but if you're lucky, you can use them to your own advantage.