Saturday 18 December 2010

'That Guy'.

Every now and then, as we gather up for the regular weekend hammerfest ride, there will be some new guy all full of piss and vinegar strutting around, talking too loud, and jumping into the middle of conversations about gear or training or some recent race with comments that just don't fit.

Somewhere around 5k in, as the group rolls out for the 5 hour ride- settling in, chatting a bit - this guy will go to the front and push the pace. It's never enough to stop the conversations but it's enough for guys to close up the gaps and get a bit annoyed because they haven't switched on their iPods or finished the apple they were eating.

As the ride progresses the first little rise approaches and this same guy goes to the front then shuts it off at the top. The ride jams up and spreads across the road.

The riders sort themselves out again as the pace picks up on the way back down.

Each small rise, overpass, or grade of any kind the same thing happens.

Finally the pace picks up and as riders rotate through this guy hits the front. He accelerates; Not hard enough to worry anyone, just hard enough to be an annoyance. Once again the rhythm of the ride is disrupted for no purpose what so ever.

The group settles back into a groove. Finally, attacks come but they are real attacks. Jumps that force people to dig. Jumps that drive snot out of your nose and blur your vision as you fixate on the rear hub in front of you. Attacks on climbs that carry speed up and OVER the climbs and force guys to chase on the descents.

Breaks form. Chases form. The ride regroups.

Hours later we all cool down together minus a few guys who know their way home.

We stop, chat, throw back a coke, finish a power bar and the group fragments into many smaller groups who spin their way home.

No one asks about 'that guy' or even remembers when he came off the back.

We usually never see him again.

Wednesday 1 December 2010

RACE REPORT: Pintung County, Southern Taiwan 28 Nov 2010

I got a call from a former team mate Friday afternoon about a race on Sunday. We hadn't entered but his team had and 1 rider had to back out at the last minute. If I wanted I could go and use his race number.

"Sure." I said, "Why not."

Small scheduling conflict. My wife's co-worker was getting married Saturday night. As the hubby I had to attend and, as this was business, celebratory drinks were in play.

Needless to say I can lay claim to at least 1 bottle of red wine...

4 hours sleep and I'm off in search of a start line.

I drive through the backwaters or rural Taiwan and viola, a start line. I prep, meet up with the guys from the team who give me a bib number and we're good to go.

Then one of my team mates shows up. Huh? This race is 15 minutes from his home and it seems I missed to email about it weeks ago. Fine.

We warm up, stage and we're off.

The course is basically 80km of flat road with 180 deg turn-arounds at either end. 10 laps.

There are 3 major teams present and 1 team has 15 guys in our 85 rider field. I had to deal with these jokers a few weeks ago at another race and I was not going to be manhandled by sheer numbers. My plan was to attack and attack until I could get in a move with riders from at least 2 of the 3 strong teams present.

Even if I failed I was looking at this as training anyway so what the heck.

Lap 1 I attack and there are plenty of takers. I attack again and I have just as many friends. The field is aggressive but there are plenty willing to chase and nothing gets even a few seconds.

Lap 2 rinse and repeat. There is a crash behind me. It doesn't seem to thin the field at all. Just after the turn around I see my team mate standing on a barricade shouting that I am now on my own. He was fine. He went down but not hard, but he got tangled up and ripped some spokes from the PT wheel I built for him 2 weeks ago.

I guess I know what is next in my truing stand.

Then there are a series of attacks and a rider unclips in front of me and goes down. He takes another rider with him. I see this kid hit the ground in front of me and I NARROWLY avoid running over his head. His neck was stretched out in front of my wheel like a holiday turkey. This required some minor acrobatics and I had to lean on a buddy to make it around.

This scared me a little.

Adrenaline is my friend. I go to the front and put it down into the wind in the hopes that several of the riders from the larger teams were caught behind the crash. A few were.

We go through the 180 and just after the inevitable jump out of the corner and regroup I attack hard.

I taste a little vino.

When I finally look to see who is on my wheel there is 1 rider from each of the two bigger teams. A good mix. We put it down at 50+ to open a gap.

As we go through the start/finish and hit the turn around, we have about 20 seconds and I see a group of 3 or 4 trying to make their way across. We keep it going and I decide that we really need those other legs to stay away. I communicate this, we agree and take the edge off slightly.

Three riders join us with 1 more rider from the strongest team there. There is also a former team mate who rode some UCI races with me about 8 years ago. He's a steady wheel and I'm glad he's there.

We settle in quickly and I move to the front and give the signal to echelon. We get the rotation going ( a bit choppy at first) but by a lap later we are working together and opening up the gap.

It seems as if the teams represented are working for this move. We are committed to the end now.

At the next turn around I see that the guys from the team that invited me have moved to the front and are leading the chase. I wonder if it occurred to them that I wouldn't even be there if they hadn't called me on Friday.

Each lap the gap grows and I throw up in my mouth a little. Twice. With about 3 to go I start having that internal battle about sitting up because I just can't manage 1 more pull. I rotate through and the internal dialogue continues.

Two to go and I tell myself to STFU and keep going. Then we catch the Masters race that started after us. This means that we put about 6km into them.

One joker tries to slide into our echelon as we roll past but I put my hand on his hip and gently put him back where he belongs.

He curses at me in Taiwanese.

Idjit.

We get the bell and it's clear that we are not getting caught. We have minutes on the group.

I know the attacks will come as we turn around for the last time with 4km to go and sure enough, a rider from the stronger team jumps. I sit. He was easily the strongest rider in the break and I don't want to blow what little jam I have chasing this move only to be countered out the back of the break.

With a 20m gap he glances back and then buries himself. Another rider goes and we all react. We're together and then another attack and together and finally the second rider from the same team goes.

I hesitate. I calculate that the rider from the other big team has to chase this. They are the local team and it is his responsibility. He hesitates and I roll the dice and wait. He finally accepts and goes but we've given them too much and now we're within 2km.

Crap.

I'm pretty spent and now fighting for third. Then there is a strong jump from behind me and I am up. He gets a good gap. I close on him with the other two on my wheel but I can't get him before the line.

I hold off the other two and finish fourth.

Not a bad outing all things considered.

On the podium they make fun of the white guy (all in good fun), which is always a good photo op, I take my medal, my money and hop in the team car for a thankfully short drive home.

I think I'll avoid the Shiraz for a while...