I woke up this morning determined to do well. I knew today would be the hardest stage of the whole race, and I wanted to make sure everyone felt it too. No more fucking around hanging out in the middle of pack getting a free ride, if I wanted to move up on the GC – I needed to take the race into my own hand. My legs still felt fresh from the previous day's effort, and the constant up and down profile of today's stage fit my riding style. Nate and I discussed going on the attack the entire day to shake a larger breakaway group loose and create some time gaps to move us up on the GC. What we didn't factor in were the constant 30 – 50 mph head winds for the last 30 miles of the race.
Fort Bayard Inner Loop Road Race – 77.9 miles, 5800' climbing
Warming up on the trainer before the race I amped myself up with music and thoughts of putting some hurt into my competitors. By the time I reached the start line I had already committed myself to attacking for an all-day breakaway.
The pace was high right from the gun as our race headed up the first big climb of the day. It was roughly 15 miles of uphill which concluded with an extremely dangerous 3 mile descent – so dangerous it had its own section in the race bible. With a mile or two to go on the first climb, a rider launched out and I went after him. I had to chase for the rest of the climb, but when I finally caught him we had a large gap and one more breakaway companion. I knew we could pickup loads of time on the descent, as 3 guys are a lot quicker around hairy corners than the entire peleton.
I slowed down briefly, looked at both of my breakaway companions and said, "I have a deathwish going downhill, STAY ON MY WHEEL." And with that I took off hoping they would keep up. And because I meant what I said, I went down the descent without any regard for life or limb. Braking at the last possible second and then sticking like glue through the 180 degree turns only to fire out like a rocket at the other side. On the worst corner of the descent the race directors had an ambulance and several EMTs setup assuming that someone would go down. As I flew towards them, they were screaming at me to slow down and an EMT ran out in the middle of the road to try and stop me – but I railed by them unscathed and devoid of my breakaway partners.
At the bottom of the descent I waited around for several minutes soft pedaling while my break companions caught up. We then made introductions; I was with Chris and Brett – 7th and 8th on the GC respectively. Our goal was to stay away and gain time, and to do this we would have to work together for the next 50 miles. We had a great rhythm going and it seemed like the perfect move, something that would stay away until the finish. But fast forward to a few miles later and they dropped me on a steep climb. I was yelling out "WAIT UP" – but apparently they thought they didn't need me – because they didn't WAIT UP.
So now I was in no-man's land. I had a 5 minute gap on the peleton, my break partners rode away from me, and I was all by myself in the wind. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop and wait for the pack, or keep going? My decision was to keep going, hoping another break would have formed (hopefully with Nate in it) and would catch me. 10 miles later and I was still alone, still no peleton, no other breakaways and no race referee to give me time gap updates. This was the weirdest time I've ever had in a race, I've never just sat out, not-chasing and not-charging for so long. I started to think I made a wrong turn and was off the race course. At this point my legs started to give out, and I was slowly burying myself. I had about 5 miles of gradual climbing to go before a long downhill and I was afraid that if the pack caught me during the climbing, that I would get dropped. In the final two miles of climbing through the Gila forest, I finally saw the pack creeping up behind me. I had to put in a huge effort in those last two miles so I didn't get caught out on the climb. Just as I reached the Continental Divide sign and the downhill – the pack grabbed me and was able to sit in a draft for the first time in 25 miles.
By this time my legs were shot, Nate found me in the group and I was so tired that I had trouble talking to him. Over the next 15 miles I slowly drifted farther back in the pack until I was hanging on by the very last wheel. We hit the beginnings of the 30 – 50 mph cross and headwinds and I blown off the back. With 20 miles to go in the race, the majority of it uphill and into the wind - once again I was all by myself. This was the setup for the worst time I've ever had on my bike.
Turning a corner into the final climb of the day, with 17 miles to go the finish, the wind poured into me at a constant 30+ mph. A half-mile into the climb was the feedzone, and Allie was waiting to hand me a bottle. Since I was bringing up the rear of the field she was able to practically drive alongside me the entire climb. It was great to have someone with me, even if they weren't on a bike – but there wasn't anything she could do to make it any easier. (and all I wanted to eat were Little Debbie Zebra Cakes, which she didn't have) It was a gradual uphill, 4-6% grades the entire way, but I was crawling along in my drops, head down at 6 mph, grinding my 39x26. The course remained like this with no respite from the wind or gradient for the next 12 miles. I just wanted to fall off my bike and quit. I knew I was loosing huge amounts of time and that my breakaway escapades had destroyed any chances I had for the GC.
At some point into the climb with my nose on my stem, I noticed a rubbing sound. As it turns out my front brake was "on." As soon as I loosened it felt like I had a new set of legs. I have no idea how long my front brake was slowing me down, but I suspect it had something to do with my royal blowout out the back of the pack. Was it a factor in me doing so badly in the race? Had it been sucking my power out all day long? I don't know for sure and it certainly didn't matter now. All I had to do was finish so I could stay in the race.
I finally crawled into the finish line 20 minutes down on the winner, in 50th place for the day and I was moved down to 50th overall on the GC. I was completely destroyed and just about fell off my bike at the line. Nate finished 27th and moved up to 14th on the GC. The breakaway I was in was caught with about 5 miles to go; I bet we would have made it with a third person to take pulls.
Now that I am completely out of contention for the overall, I can change my focus to winning stages, winning money and helping Nate preserve his GC placing. The time trial is tomorrow, and since my GC hopes are long gone – I get to ride it for fun and use it as an extra rest day. I think I'll ride it with my aero helmet on backwards just to fuck with people.
