The last time I was in Michigan, it was about 18 years ago. I remember going to the Henry Ford museum and climbing all over some locomotives and P-51 Mustangs. I went back again on Friday to race the second edition of the Barry-Roubaix 'cross/road race. I did pretty well, which is the first time in a long time I've done well in a bike race.
Preliminary notes:
1. Taco Bell and Dairy Queen is good pre-race carboloading food.
2. Registering for "Sport" category is sandbagging if you train on the road.
3. Five-door hatchbacks are Europro.
4. Paul-Brian's got the best inflatable pads.
5. "Expert" unless it's technical.
6. Gear range is overrated.
The start of the race was cold. I'd underdressed in a Craft thick long-sleeve base layer, jersey, and uninsulated team issue knickers knowing that I'd warm up through exertion. Still, standing on the line sucked -- we were all shaking and shivering waiting for the call to roll.
Eventually the party got moving onto the road for a semi-neutral rollout to the first gravel section. The transition off the road into the dirt, which was more like sand, wasn't all that bad. People were playing it safe and slow. Once into the dirt, I was able to pick up speed and start passing riders who were bogging down. At a small incline, I had to get off and run with the bike due to stalled traffic -- and ended up passing a good amount of them.
Once over the crest, it was a steady mix of rollers. The gravel and dirt was intimidating on the fastest of descents, but you could really fly over the stuff by getting weight off the handlebars and over the rear wheel. I rarely had to touch my brakes.
After a couple miles, I was settled in with a few dudes, all expert racers, who along with me took good pulls and kept the attacks and speed high. I passed by Paolo and worked a while with Isaiah who'd had better starts in the Expert category. Up and over the hills, none all that long nor steep. Which is good, because I totally botched a shifter cable replacement job and couldn't get my front derailleur to move out of the 46 ring AND I could only use my 12-20 cogs in the rear. The longest climbs had me out of the saddle, grinding them out at 45 RPM.
God bless my long legs and 175mm cranks; I've got leverage and know how to use it.
Funny, I actually dropped a fair number of riders on the climbs -- climbing's one of my stronger suits, but it's interesting that even with a gearing handicap, I could still put in a drop effort. By the time our group got onto the 3 miles of pavement left in the race, we were all pulling hard to try to get in under two hours. Turning into the park, some guy made an attack, and I followed suit. A few hundred feet from the finish line, I went into a sprint to stay away from some monster on a MTB who was gaining on me.
I ended up pulling a 1:58:44, which was good for 2nd place in the 30-39 category. My time would have earned me a result in the teens out of 50+ riders if I raced Expert, which I will next year. Unless I decide to race Elites (err...). I came home with a ton of Bob's Red Mill steel cut oatmeal and lots of free beer. Al Thom beat me for a convincing result in the Expert 50-59, but Mike Hemme crushed it in the Elite race, which had to go around that damn course twice.
Afterward, it was to Bell's for beer and eats and the back to Chicago.
I also played host to my cousin Isaac Ward, who was in town with his wife. She was at a bachelorette party and he needed a place to stay. I was more than happy to oblige -- Isaac's a brother to me and we don't get to see each other much outside of the big holidays. We got dinner at Bad Dog and brunch yesterday at M. Henry -- all the while we made jokes about our family and discussed ways of creating a new family legend.
Then my wild weekend was capped with me and Allison's hosting of a panini party at our apartment. Two panini presses, BYOF&B (Bring Your Own Fixings and Beer) and a good group of friends rounded out the evening. Allison and I provided cheese, cole slaw, potato salad, sauerkraut, and pork loin -- our guests did the rest. It was fantastic and it seemed everyone had a panini-filled stomach when they left.
I think we may make this a semi-regular thing. Paninis and bike racing -- a good combo.
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