FLCC> Green Mountains Stage Race

[Glenn Swan]

	A small mob of Ithacans (we'll take credit for ex-pats who currently 
reside on the left coast of Canada when it's to our advantage) ventured to 
northern Vermont for one of the traditional season wrap-up events, the 
Green Mountains Stage Race. This race features 4 stages, with two of them 
finishing atop Appalachian Gap. Needless to say, it tends to favor people 
who can climb. Flatland sprinter-types tend to find other places to go for 
the Labor Day weekend.
	Don Sproull (cat3), Andy Melnychenko (40+), Joe Bailey (cat 4 under 35), 
Trevor Conner  and Ryan Morris (Pro,1,2), and I (Masters 50+) all had 
varying degrees of success. I'll let each tell their own tales, but I will 
note that for Trevor, it seemed as though "if he didn't have bad luck, he 
wouldn't have any luck at all" starting with getting hit by a car after the 
Tuesday night race in Ithaca last week. Joe might be on the market for some 
"lightly used" knees to buy or lease for a while. Andy certainly made an 
impression on many of the others when the road tilted skywards, though he 
missed the turbocharged bus when it rocketed out of the station at the crit 
the last day, thus missing out on a payday. Don was solid every day and was 
in the hunt right to the very end. It sounded as though Ryan was strong 
some of the weekend, but I don't know enough details to offer much.
	My story is easier for me to tell, because I was there.....it might be 
interesting to hear it told by someone else in my race, since we all have 
our own perceptions of what is going on at any given time. Friday morning, 
Andy M and I pre-rode the day's climb up the east side of App Gap. I had a 
39x25 gear and it seemed okay, and being a lazy person figured I would just 
use that, and save the 27 for the 3rd stage. At the parking lot before the 
race started, I talked to a former teammate who said he was taking my 
advice (from last year) and using a 27. Hmmmmm. Should I listen to my own 
advice (even if a bit stale from a year of sitting on a shelf)?   Yes.  I 
got my hands a bit dirty, but went for the 27 after all. The stage rolls 
through town, turns right and starts climbing, ever more steeply to the top 
of the mountain. I stayed near the front, watching and noting who seemed to 
be climbing comfortably and who was struggling. There were a few guys who 
looked distressingly comfortable !  We passed the parking lot at the ski 
area and the grade went from merely stressful to painful. Two guys I didn't 
know were at the front showing no signs that they had noticed the road 
getting steeper. It was getting hard. I moved alongside and was allowed to 
set the pace. I was spinning my 27 ! I knew that the pack had broken up, 
but my brain wasn't functioning well enough to  be aware of much more than 
a few people around me. At the upper hairpin turn I thought we were down to 
just 3 of us. Then I heard a spectator shout that there was just two of us. 
The other guy never let any gaps open up. Never took the lead. Never 
breathed loud enough to give me any clues about how he was feeling. At 500m 
I was feeling pretty desperate, expecting him to attack and make me fold. 
At 250m he was still there. At 200m it would be only a matter of who jumped 
first, so I just stood up and gave it all I had left. He folded !  The 
leader's jersey would be mine.
	After the thrill of winning the jersey dies down, you realize that it 
means you are going to get the stuffing beat out of you the next day, as 
somewhere in the design of every leader's jersey there is a hidden 
bullseye, and the notation "F-me!".  Then you sometimes wish you had 
finished 2nd.....  The second stage was ugly for some, as we saw crashes 
and ambulances hauling bikes and bodies away from some of the categories. 
Trevor missed the start of his race, and was perhaps saved from being a 
part of the ugliest crash, as a police car apparently got T-boned by the 
field on a fast downhill sending bodies everywhere, resulting in the Pro 
field deciding to terminate their race for that stage. In my race, the 
field broke up on the second climb and we had a good group that worked 
safely and smoothly together until the finish. I don't have the time to 
tell in detail how the finish played out, but in the last 3 minutes the 
crafty old vets all showed their experience. Tom Officer went for broke 
with about 2 miles to go. Who would chase ? Just when it seemed it was too 
late with a gap of 400m, I blasted off in pursuit. Everyone got on my 
wheel. When we were 100 m behind him I needed someone to take over. Nobody 
did. The gap grew to 200m again. Somebody attacked me and opened a gap. Two 
took off after him. I desperately clawed my way up to the second wheel. 
They were closing in on the 2nd place rider who in turn was closing in on 
the leader, and suddenly I am counting down the meters to the finish line, 
while riding a great leadout. But I am totally toasted and it's not clear 
whether any of us are going to catch either of the first two riders. If I 
go too soon, they may get my wheel and roast me at the line. If I go too 
late, we may not catch the guys up ahead. The finish line is speeding 
towards us and time is running out. I gave it all I had and passed my two 
leadout guys and then mowed down the 2nd place rider. If the leader faded 
in the final 50m I would get him too !  But he didn't and I caught up to 
him just after the line. The others swarmed in a moment behind. That was 
the most tactical and thrill-packed finish I can remember in a long time ! 
The jersey was still mine, but the points totals showed that we were still 
so close together that we were effectively tied. The stage over Middlebury 
Gap and Appalachian Gap (west side) would be decisive, since there were 
still a bunch of riders within a few points of my leading total.
	The leader's jersey is heavy on this stage, because there are always 
riders ready to gamble on a long breakaway, plus there are some who want to 
break away early, simply to go for the Sprint Points competition that 
occurs a few miles before the turn to Middlebury Gap. I covered a number of 
early breaks. I set tempo for a lot of the time. I got tired of being at 
the front while nobody else wanted to pull through. My rivals were content 
to watch me get used up and tired before the serious racing was even 
happening. So I let a small break roll up the road with the Sprints leader, 
the season leader of the New England Masters series, a friend who was 
actually sitting in a top five spot in General Classification, and someone 
else I didn't identify. "Some other riders will have to be threatened by 
this. Others will have to take up the chase to defend their spots on GC..." 
Pretty soon the break was out of sight and at least 2 minutes ahead. I 
chose to sit tight and wait until after the first Gap. We would have a good 
break group of the strongest riders after the climb and we'd no doubt mow 
down the renegades. Besides, I have been on long breaks on this course in 
past years, and I didn't really think that being in a small group was the 
optimal place to be at this point in the race. At the top of Middlebury Gap 
I was still well within myself (gasping for air, but not yet seeing double) 
and I let Rick Sorenson have a little gap on me in the last 1/4 mile. I 
looked back at Mark Luzio and a short string of others, knowing that I 
would wait for them and that would be our chase group down the other side. 
Things were looking good to me. At the very top Mark blasted across to me 
and we plummeted down the other side. We quickly picked up Rick and a 
paceline began. Alas, when Mark blasted up to me, he had blown away the 
other guys who had been with him and they all really cracked. There were 
only three of us (plus one tag-a-long who had made it over the top with us, 
but was so blown he wouldn't be able to contribute or last the distance to 
the finish, so we let him sit on for as long as he could survive.) The good 
news was that Mark, Rick and I were probably the strongest riders out 
there. The bad news was that there were only three of us, and there were 
four up the road and a bigger group chasing behind us. We worked pretty 
hard and very smoothly all the way north from Middlebury. We kept an eye on 
the rear in case the chase group was getting near to us, but the unspoken 
concern was that, as hard as we were working, we still weren't seeing any 
signs of the group ahead of us. Not even any taillights in traffic of cars 
slowing for them in the distance. Maybe it had been a mistake to let them 
roll away. We started the climb over "Baby Gap", and in the distance 
thought we might have seen a cluster of cars go around a corner in a manner 
that would indicate traffic slowdown somewhere ahead of them. Let's hope 
it's our race leaders and not another category.... Still, we worked evenly 
together. It was becoming apparent that Mark might be getting tired. Rick's 
pulls became a little less crisp too. I was tired as well, but I began to 
think I might be feeling less bad than they did. I have died on the final 
climb enough times, and both of these guys have ridden away from me in past 
years, so I wasn't about to give them too much of a break at this point. My 
pulls may have been a little longer and a little faster, but I made them do 
a fair share too.  We were indeed catching a group, and it appeared to be 
our race leaders. As Mark and Rick were fading, it was starting to look 
like we might not actually make it all the way up to them, and if we did, 
we had to worry about  whether any of them were still strong for the final 
agonizingly steep miles left. Finally we made contact just as the "Big Gap" 
started. After climbing for nearly 10 miles, the final few miles become 
ridiculously steep and there are constant switchbacks and to make it even 
better, we were riding up into a cloud with high winds and some rain. 
(Ernesto remnants) Apparently, just before we made contact with the 
leaders, one had asked another whether he would assume the leader's jersey 
if he won this stage. Just as he was about to answer in the affirmative, we 
appeared, and he laughed and said "I guess that's a moot point." I heard 
those words as we rolled by. The four didn't even try to get on our train. 
They were blown. I spun my 27 and stayed on the saddle most of the way. 
Before long Mark faded away. Just like the prologue, I was spinning up the 
hill with Rick Sorenson on my wheel. Never a sound. Never alongside where I 
can see his expression, never even the slightest gap behind me. I wasn't 
sure what the outcome would be. He's tenacious and if it came to a "spint" 
up the final pitch (about like Buffalo St.) I wasn't confident. The wind 
was so gusty that at times I stayed seated, even though I was only going 4 
mph, because I was afraid I might fall over or go off the side of the road. 
At about 1K to go, there was a slight leveling of the road around a 
switchback. I stood up and shifted up a gear or two. The acceleration was 
just enough to pop Rick, and I slowly pulled away to the finish, still 
checking behind me, as it's hard to be too confident when you are about to 
tip over and your top speed is 3 mph ! Another stage win !
	The Criterium is my playground. For some reason this course suits me and I 
often have won, either solo or in small breakaways. Due to the points 
scoring system used for GC, it was still possible for several others to 
leapfrog over me and win the whole race, if they could win and I finished 
worse than about third or fourth, so I had to be a little careful about how 
I rode the race. We rode pretty hard and fast and by the midpoint had 
pulled a group of about 8 or 10 riders clear of the rest of the field. The 
break still contained all of the riders who were a threat to me on GC, but 
it would be safer and simpler and easier to keep track of what was 
happening. When we got down to the final laps I was hoping to let some of 
the other guys have their day in the sun and take the stage victory while I 
would ride home in 3rd or so to secure my GC place, but it wasn't to 
be.....they made me pull the entire last lap and a half, so I felt as 
though if I gave them that much rest, it would be a fair fight to the 
finish line and I would make them earn their laurels. Down the descent to 
the final turn I was concerned about a wave of riders attacking and making 
the turn dangerous, so I turned up the burners. We went through the last 
turn so fast that nobody could have passed without ending up on the 
sidewalk or in a storefront. With that much momentum and a hefty dose of 
adrenaline I pounded the pedals with Sorenson closing in on the left and 
Luzio closing in on the right. The finish line came in the nick of time, 
and yet another stage was mine.
	The season is pretty much over. Just the Applefest, and maybe a 'Cross 
race or two. Time to enjoy the fitness that has been built up over the long 
summer. Dirt roads are calling !