Cat 3 Men - 50 minutes - 1k 4-corner mixed brick and asphalt course on a light uphill in the heart of historic Ballard.
Avg Speed - 24.7mph
Max Speed - 32.5mph
19th of 43 starters
With the weather being fussy days prior to Seattle's biggest bike race, The Ballard Twilight Crit, I knew the field would be at an astonishing low. To be frank, most people wouldn't want to race a 4-corner crit on gnarly brick roads in the rain - or damp ground for that matter. In all honesty, I consulted teammates who are former PRO's about racing if rain showed.
"Race. Do everything you can to be prepare for the rain...tyre pressure/selection/etc. Race at the front from the gun. Don't try risky shit. Race smart. Kill it." - David "Rocket" Richter
I pre-registered for the crit and wanted to race it regardless of rain, snow and/or apocalypse, but many experienced folk told me wet brick is a great way to ruin your season. Screw that. Besides, I made a Facebook event so all my friends could see what my obsession with this crazy bicycle racing thing is all about. Seems difficult to look tough not racing when the rain shows up, IN SEATTLE.
The Morning of
Ugh, 8am? I can still taste all that wine. Gross. Back to bed.
The Afternoon of
12:30, close enough. I kit up, throw a 25c Continental tyre on my rear wheel for a little drag racing status and begin my spin around the city for a proper warm-up. In my personal experience, it's important to ride a few hours before a crit so the body is 100% ready for battle. Anyone who loves or hates to race crits can attest that, yes, crit racing is battle. It's fast as fuck from start to finish, and you've got a few centimeters for personal space for an hour. Need I remind you, the more popular the race, the bigger the prize purse. This purse is usually dispersed throughout the race in random laps called primes ("preemes"), where the first person to cross the finish line on the designated lap gets paid X-amount of $$. In the big leagues, we all know the biggest payout (outside of winning) is always with a lap or 2 to go. What a great way to fuck up everyones plans of crossing the line first. I love it.
The Race
I met up with good friend, Nate Pitts (Gregg's Cycles - Trek,) for the tail-end of my warm up as we chatted about our plans for our 50 minutes of pain. Did I mention that this was going to be my first CAT 3 race? He kept me sane with constant reminders that these guys are just CAT 4's that won a few races, no big deal. I knew I was going to do my thing and be on the attack as often as possible. I mean, I couldn't let down my old competitors that I've raced with before they upgraded.
MISSION: Attack, attack, attack. Keep pace hot at all costs. Stay in the front. Win.
Ambitious, I know. But lets just say that not 2 laps after that gun went off. I was on a MISSION. I'm confident in saying that this was my best performance of any crit I've ever done (minus Tacoma 2011). I dont think I dipped further than 7 wheels back until 4 to go. Ouch. I know Nate is a strong rider (CAT 2 - Track) so I tried my best to work with him on this popular occasion. When he took flyers, I didn't chase. When he was reeled in, I jumped. If I saw him pulling on the front for a bit, I'd come join to share the work load. The idea being, we're all friends until 1 to go so lets tire everyone out until then. One's odds increase as opponents lose hope.
More often than not, I found myself off or on the front most of the race. Sometimes I felt dumb for doing so much work, but mostly, I just felt like I was instigating a potentially winning move. If I was a threat to everyone for all the prime$ , they'd have to chase. If they didn't, then I could solo victory. Eventually I look forward to my teammates replicating Ted Schwartz and I's old "shake and bake" maneuver in these crit situations:
He sits in while I'm on the attack, and once I'm reeled in, he attacks. While he's off the front, I sit in and wait to attack when they reel him in. This shit works like clockwork. And I miss it.
At Ballard, I only had Dan Doran (whom I'd never met or raced with) and Thorsten Askervold (CAT 2 - Track, 16, raced 4 or 5 times with). Fortunately, my boys also stayed up front for all 50 minutes. Unfortunately, I felt like I was the only one animating the race. After just losing each prime that came up, I decided to sit in with 5 to go. The only problem with this technique is that I wasn't a threat to anyone and they could all rest for the sprint. That's the last thing I wanted. I sat on Pitts' wheel with 2 to go thinking he would know how to maneuver through this mess so I could strike with 1 to go. Ooops, too late, someone jumped as I was 15 wheels back or so, the pace roared to catch him. And wouldn't you know - some CAT 2 track kid counter-attacked and nobody could close the gap before his crossed the line first. Too bad it wasn't Thor, since an HSP victory would have been appropriate for such prime positioning.
I will say, that I definitely needed the recovery towards the end, but foolishly allowed myself to be overwhelmed with the exponentially growing number of spectators. My friends seemed to be at every corner, it's Jessica's (my fiance) 29th birthday AND she's at the start/finish with all of her friends. So much pressure, and yet I can't even use that as an excuse because none of this prioritized in front of "MOVE UP". I simply assumed everyone was so weak, that I'd be able to get into sprint position. Nope. They wanted it just as badly as I. Surprise, surprise.
My good friends at GO MEANS GO did a sweet little write up on their spectating experience with photos included!
Professional photography:
-Dennis Crane
-Amara Edwards
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