Capitol Crit Drama

Yesterday was a logistical orchestra that went well. Sascha had a triathlon in Buffalo. I'm sure she'll have the full report shortly. The main thing I noticed was how huge and well organized this event was. Apparently there were some 1300 racers, and enough fans, friends and family lining the course to make it hard to get pictures. Amazing. I had to get up at the crack of dawn to pick up Sascha at 5:15 and head out to the sticks. We arrived with plenty of time, and were able to get some lunch afterward and make it to St. Paul in plenty of time for my race.
__I had time to watch the 4/5 race, and heard about a crash in that race, as well as the crash in the 1-2-3s, but really, it didn't make me any more nervous than I already was. My big fear was being able to hang on. I was able to ride the course just before the 4/5s, and the hairpin didn't seem as bad as I imagined, since there was a long flat section after the downhill to moderate speed, and the hill up to the capitol wasn't as bad as it looked from a spectator's perspective. I watched Morgan take a ninja prime in the 4/5s and hang with the field for the whole race, as well as Tuffy doing a strong race. Andy did his 3rd race ever and Mike raced as well. After the 4/5 race I warmed up some more on the course, then rode back and forth on the other side of the course during the 35+ race to keep the blood flowing, stopping to get some tips and hang with my teammates when that got too boring!
__Finally it was time to line up. Just as we were lining up, it started raining! How awesome is that - rain in a Masters 4/5 race with a hairpin turn? Fortunately, it passed after the 1st lap and we were safe for the rest of the race, from rain anyway. My goal for this race was to hang with the field - no ninja primes, nothing off the front, just sit in and see if I can hang for the whole race. Everyone said to stay near the front to avoid getting yo-yo'd off the back in the hairpin, so I did that, which was a good thing because I heard that awful sound of carbon scraping pavement behind me. You can't look back when you're racing a crit (at least I can't!), but it would turn out that Drew hit Neil's wheel and went down.
__I was glad to avoid that crash, but my turn was next. Shifting and torquing up the hill to the capitol, my back wheel suddenly locked up and I came to a skidding halt and, amazingly, managed to avoid being plowed into by the racers behind me. To the smell of burning rubber, I was able to ascertain that the wheel had popped out of the dropouts due to the massive power my legs were delivering to the drivetrain (or not tightening up the quick release sufficiently, but I'm going with the first theory!). After getting things put back together I rolled over to the pit, explained the situation, and they checked it out and gave me the free lap. This was the first time I've been in a situation to take advantage of that, so it was an exciting learning experience. We got me position at the side of the course, held my bike like a time trial start, and with adrenaline pumping, gave me a shove as I cranked back on to the first chase group I'd fallen out of (someone was off the front at this point).
__Chasing onto the back of a field is hard enough, but moving up can be even harder. Being at the back I was lighting up the matches out of the hairpin just to hang on, not leaving much to move up. But each lap I was able to move up a couple of places, usually in the corners, and eventually was back in the first 8-10 riders where I wanted to be. This is when the next bit of drama occurred, as an official yelled at some riders in my group, both going into the hairpin, and coming back out. There was some talking and yelling in the field as well, but I couldn't figure out what was going on. As it turns out, only a couple of people, including Tuffy, were working at the front to try to reel in the guy off the front, and they were getting understandably pissy about it. Apparently some choice words were exchanged in earshot of a woman and her children as they were walking through the race course, and the official overheard it. All it takes is some citizen complaining about something like that to lose a race venue, so it was understandable, and yelling at the end of a testosterone and adrenaline-powered crit can always be a formula for disaster.
__Meanwhile, the lap cards were showing three, then two to go. Coming up the hill to the start/finish with one lap to, Tuffy made his move, the field followed... and I didn't. Maybe I wasn't motivated enough, because I was thrilled to have stayed with the field for the whole race and was perfectly happy with my performance. But maybe I just lit too many matches catching on and moving up in the field to have anything extra left. Either way, the field took off, and I was off the back for the last lap, but I was happy. I was able to hang on to the field for a whole race, a notoriously tough one at that, kept the rubber side down and executed my plan. It was a good day.
__To make the race even more perfect, when I rolled back to the start, T3 was there with his kids and milk and cookies! w0000t! Plus Drew had brought some excellent doppelbock and a stout, so we had milk and cookies and beer and everyone was happy! An excellent Grand Old Day.
__Thanks to Drew for helping me lose my waterbottle that we were told we couldn't toss during the race, and to Sascha for being my race sherpa. Thanks to everyone who cheered for me and for Drew during the race - it's awesome to hear that, even though we can't acknowledge it with anything more than a pain face during the race!