I knew this was a hilly course, which suits me well, and I should be in any break that tried to get away since, our man, John McAllister was in the podium ranks of the GC. This ensures that the field is quite too exhausted from chasing to do anything to stop him 90miles later from taking the sprint. Why would people chase me if I'm not a top contender in the GC? They wouldn't. But you see, I was now 10th GC by only 30 seconds, so if I finish the race with a mere minute up the road, I win Capital Stage race.
I didn't realize how fresh I felt after 2 days of racing, until neutral roll-out. All 49 of us casually follow the lead car until we get onto to course a few miles down the road. Naturally, one guy takes off all by himself the minute the race is on. We let him go. This is a 90mi race. As he gets a couple hundred meters up the road, the guy pulls off by some spectators, likely with a flat tire. Then we come rolling by only to see that it's his wife and two little girls holding a sign for him and that he'd pulled over to give them Father's Day kisses. Aw. That's some Grand Tour shit right there.
About 3 miles into the race, two Pro City Cycling riders attack the field and took off into the fog. John reminds me that this may be a good opportunity to get into a promising move, so I start moving up to find a the sweet spot to jump. I sit on the front right behind Bryan Urakawa (Fischer Plumber Cycling) as he sets the pace for everyone, then jump right as we round a small bend in the road. I was able to close a pretty good gap on the Pro City kids but I don't think anyone in the main group wanted me to get away quite yet so I was reeled in shortly after. I didn't study the course profile before the race so I was just taking everyone's word that the first climb would approach shortly (Michigan Hill?) that would take us 300ft in the air before a descent into the open rolling farmland. It wasn't until we reached the base of the climb that our two lone rangers were no more than 20 meters infront of us. Perfect. I noticed that everyone was struggling a little bit so I took this as an opportunity to turn up the heat to see what would happen.
What Happened:
I accelerated (seated) up the hill closing the gap on Pro City, and either nobody felt like chasing me or simply couldn't hang on my wheel. I'm going to flatter myself and just say nobody could match my pace. Well, almost nobody. Just as I caught the Pro City slipstream, I attacked. To my surprise, they still had some gas in the tank and sat in. Just before the crest I looked back and saw one of them dropping off, and the main field way the fuck back. Well, it's go time I guess. So off we went. We crested the hill and took short pulls to try and get away. Away we did go. I congratulated him inbetween pulls for being probably the only other climber in the pack, then continued our 27mph escape route. We made it approximately 15 miles before being caught by a 30man paceline. If I may explain why we didn't make it 30 miles or further...
-My seatpost was loose and had dropped atleast 2 inches because I forgot to re-tighten it after unpacking it the previous day. -My Pro City Cycling friend was out of gas, we pounded fists after he admitted he was done, and off I went to make the boys work atleast a little harder before swallowing me up.
I had to ride this stupidly low seatpost for another 30mi before I could fix it. For some reason the follow car had no cycling-related tools and nobody in the pack had tools (why would they?) I rode it out until a couple miles before the feed zone on the Vance Creek RR part of the course. I launched a solo chase attempt after a Recycled Cycles guy disappeared, not to actually chase him, but to get a headstart on the hill so I could find an Allen Key at the feed zone to fix my situation. Thorsten Askervold (HSP/Junior Sprint Killer) bridged up to me on said head-start, with a Kona Racing junior and someone else I can't recall. We gapped out the field but I couldn't keep up their pace with a low saddle height so I did my best to hang on until I found a tool. An Old Town Bicycle Racing guy in the feed zone, had what I needed, but he had to feed his boys first. After the feed, he whipped it out and we adjusted my post, gave me a push and I had to chase back on. Unfortunately, the fix took longer than I wanted and the pack was now chasing Recycled Cycles and Thorstens chase group. Fuck. I crested the hill and they where nowhere in sight. FUCK.
I put my head down and rode my heart out in hopes of catching the field. I averaged 24mph on my 45mile solo bridge attempt and never caught them. This was by far the hardest day in the saddle that I've ever had. All by myself, never taking a break to rest, just chasing. Just after re-ascending Michigan Hill before the Independence Valley part of the course, I saw the siren light of the follow car in the distance. Atleast 3 minutes up the road. I gave it all I had to the base of the climb and still couldn't catch back on. I figured I was doomed, so I finished the remainder of the course, hoping to pick up a straggler off the back for some company in the rain. It never happened. I finished 18minutes behind the pack. So I basically rode 70 of the 90 mile race alone. A good workout, but I don't ever want that to happen again - details. Check your shit before you roll up to the start line.
The only pictures to summarize my experience:
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