A Grand Finale
Today's stage unfolded in spectacular fashion. Straight out of the blocks, and all 140+ starters were sprinting up Chilkoot Hill, trying to make up positions, after being stuck on the starting grid for what seemed to be an eternity. I think that the first trip up the hill, was also the last time we were all together. While the group seems to usually maintain a fairly low rate of attrition for the first half of a criterium, today was an exception.
No where was the magnitude of the day's extreme demand more obvious than in the race officials generous time-cut; requiring that riders only complete 25% of the 20 lap race. Yes, after only 5 laps of racing, riders were eligible for a pro-rated time. What a deal! Although I had no intention of using such a generous time cut, it turns out that I benefited from such generosity.
Before the race started, I knew that I would be facing up to one of the hardest criteriums in the country. The Stillwater crit is something of a legend in the domestic peloton, as everyone knows of and about, the Chilkoot Hill. At 250 meters with an average gradient of 18%, and ramps as steep as 20%, each lap would be a brutal test of mental and physical strength. With my warm-up completed, and the legs feeling ready for one last fight, I picked up a fresh ice-cold bottle of Hammer Heed before making my way onto the starting grid. Seems the entire field, except for a few of us, believed that a good start position would be worth more than a good warm-up. Huh. Interesting idea, and I am not sure which ended up prevailing, as the truth is that we always end up sitting around for a good number of minutes before the race gets started.
I was going to be in the last row no matter what. With everyone else ahead of me, I had to accept this. My teammate Jim Camut, also found himself in a similar situation. We decided that if we were going to be last, we might as well keep the legs moving. Rather than sitting on the line with one foot down, Jim and I rode our bikes in slow and lazy circles behind the nervous peloton. A few others joined, making for an almost comical looking side show. Inside of 10 seconds to go, and Jim and I were executing track-stands right behind the field; ready to explode into the race, with both of our feel already clipped into the pedals.
The first time racing up the hill was brutal. Imagine sitting in your car, simply idling at a stop sign, and in one instant, you stomp on the accelerator, and drop the clutch. Yeah, a real shock to the system. From a comfortable track-stand with my heart-rate hovering around 80-90 beats per minute, I exploded into the race. Over the top of the hill, and I couldn't pump enough blood through my body.
Within the next few laps, I began to feel settled in the race. The rhythm of each lap was starting to flow, and I knew what points on the course were my strongest and weakest. As I began to work my way forward through the field, I was feeling better with each passing lap. Those first few laps, as I got into the race, I was ready for a battle right up to the end. Ready to fight hard, and to suffer. Coming over the top of the course on my second or third lap, (I don't remember the exact one) I came across a group of riders who had gone down. Ordinarily, I would have ridden straight passed. In this situation, I found my teammate, and potential U23, winner Bobby Sweeting picking himself up with his bike.
Before I even came up to them, I had already gone into "autopilot." I had shifted my bike all the way to the hardest gear, 53x11, to ease the changing of wheels should that become necessary. A quick exchange of words with Bobby, and I knew he was good. As he wheeled off to the pits for his free-lap while sorting out any unnoticed mechanical issues, I was being harassed by an official. All he seemed to see was that I had stopped despite not crashing. After listing to repeated yells along the lines of, "Number 113, you did not crash! You will not receive a free lap. You must continue..." I rolled off. Of course I knew I didn't crash, and I wasn't looking for a free lap. I was looking after my teammate who stood to win, or lose, more than I did.
A few more laps of riding, and the hard charging field was coming up behind me. After just 5 laps, I was pulled from the course. Although it was the least of my worries, it turns out that the unusually low time-cut worked in my favor today. Of course, I wasn't really worried about how I finished, but it is nice to at least know what I made it, technically. If I had ridden all the way, who knows how things would have turned out.
In the end, my teammate Bobby Sweeting won the U23 competition, and Mike Northey followed yesterday's strong ride with another big performance today. By limiting his losses, Mike finishes the week 3rd on the U23 race. This last week has been a fantastic week of racing and experiencing Minnesota. For many of us, this year was our first time racing in the Nature Valley Grand Prix. The racing has proven to be some of the best, and I will look forward to coming back for more racing in the years to come.
Thanks for reading and thanks for following along with me this week.
Keep the Rubber Side Down,
C-
Labels: Carson Miller, Land Rover, MBF, Minnesota Bike Festival, Nature Valley Grand Prix, NVGP, ORBEA, Stage Six, Stillwater


