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This past weekend Jeff and I headed down to Jacksonville, Florida for a Saturday night NRC crit and Sunday road race. On the drive down, Jeff entertained me with stories of how many people crashed in the crit last year because it was raining. Little did I know that I would have my own stories to tell by the end of the weekend.

Saturday during the day it was sunny and hot. The weather channel said rain would come in during the middle of the night and clear up around noon on Sunday. And then as we are getting dressed at the car with 30 minutes until our start, the rain starts. Then it stops and looks like it might not do it again. And then right as they call us to the line, it starts pouring rain. But what can you do? Suck it up and cross your fingers. Tap, tap, everyone is taking pressure out of their tires in anticipation of the slip and slide to come.

And then we start. First turn, first lap, everyone is upright. Second turn, all is well. Third turn, I think we made it ok. Finally, in the fourth turn, somebody goes down. I get around this one fine but have to sprint like a mad man to get back on. I think there is a race going on somewhere up the road, but I’m too concerned with survival to care. The second lap comes and goes with only white-knuckle fear. On the third lap, my time comes. Going through the fourth turn, a rider dumps his bike for the pavement and I can’t stop in time. I have a choice between hitting him and hitting a barricade. It was slow motion, almost Zen-like. Out of the kindness of my heart and a desire not to be hit from behind, I go for the barricade. After finally coming to a stop, I brush myself off and roll to the pits in no particular hurry. The officials actually helped me out by putting me in a lot further up than I was before the crash.

Unfortunately, the pavement was not done with me and two laps later, another rider ate it in the first turn. I almost stopped this time, but could not quite do it and crashed again. So I brushed myself off and went to the pits. This time they put me in slightly behind the back of the field and after two laps of chasing, I realize my front tire is going flat. So now this is getting ridiculous. Back to the pits with plenty of time to ask myself why I like this sport. By now the rain is slackening off a bit and most of the field has already crashed or pulled out so things are a little safer. My legs don’t feel good and my confidence through the turns is nil. I spend the next 45 minutes letting gaps open up through the turns and chasing them down on the straightaways. Hoppy is looking good near the front but I can’t even get up to him to help him out. By now three riders have lapped the field, with three more about to lap up as well. Aerospace is chasing down a break to defend Frank Travieso who is a lap up. With twenty laps to go the rain has stopped and the course is drying out to a small degree. My legs finally start to feel better and I start to get into position for the sprint. I do my best to stay near Jeff because he is usually in a good spot.

With ten to go the race is getting crazy, like any NRC crit sprint finish would be. Faster and faster, but amazingly with no additional crashes, we sprint in. Jeff cleaned up the field sprint for 7th place and I rolled in 21st, happy to be alive. The Sunday road race was dry but really windy. We were set to race 100 miles over 8 laps on almost board flat terrain with some nasty crosswind sections. The race started all hunky-dory. Just trying to stay out of the wind and conserve energy. On the second lap about ten riders put the rest of the field in the gutter and it was hell on wheels. A split formed but the wind shifted and their gap was coming down. Then our race was stopped because we were taking up the whole road. We were told to obey the yellow line rule or our race would be canceled. So after the restart things got going hot and heavy again. On lap four, I got caught up trying to break away on a crosswind section and we nearly split the field. I know anyone in the gutter had to be working hard because I was working really, really hard rotating with ten other guys. Anyway, before the gap could really open up,we turned onto a tailwind section and it all came back together again.

So each lap played out about the same, gutter rides in the crosswind and fast tempo in between. Hoppy and I took turns covering moves but nothing was sticking. On lap 7, Jeff told me to get to the front because crunch time was coming. Nerac went to the front and set tempo until Dominique Rollin (Sierra Nevada) attacked and took one teammate along with Hoppy and Ivan Franco (Aerospace) off the front. They caught 6 riders just up the road, but only four could match their pace. So the break of eight was established and the pack breathed a sigh of relief. The next lap and a half was occasionally fast but everyone was obviously tired by this point. Dominique attacked the breakaway close to the finish and took one rider with him, and Jeff cleaned up the rest for third. I rolled in with the field, safely out of the money.

Overall this weekend taught me one major lesson: Stay at the front. I could have possibly avoided crashing in the crit, and would generally have had an easier time in the road race if I had been at the front during key moments. I was usually near the front, but rarely at the front for very long. That is a lesson I will not soon forget. Thanks for reading, Tim

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