2011 Master's Road Race 55+ and 65+
It was a bit rude right from the start.
First, the gun went off just as I was trying to extricate myself from a long, rambling and energetic geezer story from a fellow master who's angled bike had me trapped near the back. He ignored the gun and kept waving his arms around telling his story-so I rudely knocked his wheel aside and sprinted forward.
Ten seconds later the pace rudely hit 28 as a JRC dude attempted an immediate solo breakaway. I notice Chuck Jerebek and two other blue jerseys up front and blocking. The single file snaked around them and slowed slightly 1K later at the base of a steep and sinuous hill just as I furiously worked to the front with grouchy legs. We regrouped for 10 seconds then BAM! Another JRC jumped hard and got a gap. Jerebek slowed. We slowed. And slowed-until the blue jersey vanished down the long curving descent past Sugar Loaf Road.
Two laps later he was two minutes ahead with the pack in gentle "it ain't my job to chase" mode. The blue flashing lights were in another county. Ok, I thought, we're sprinting for 2nd now.
On the next long downhill, Steve Bent, owner of Bent Cyclery, started jumping his 135 pound skeleton off the front in frustration.
Two or three times I jumped the gap only to have Jerebek rudely grab my wheel at the speed of light. For most of the third lap 3-4 of us took turns attacking solo or combined. But in a pack of impulse drives Jerebek had warp drive. Viney had no incentive to attack since he was racing for an older title.
Then I decided to get rude and jumped at the start of lap 4 when I sensed Jerebek ease to the back leaving a few tiring windbreakers at the front. Pretending to take a turn at the front I punched it and somehow got a 25 meter gap from an unenthusiastic pack. At the base of the same sinuous hill Viney joined me yelling "move it! we have a gap!" and flew past me glaring under his right armpit. Clawing my way uphill to his wheel we took a right onto CR 561 and that was it. Three laps to go with 5 big hills each and a windy open course.
Two guys, two jerseys. No reason to play games. Work together and the race is ours to lose.
Actually it was Dave's race to lose. I helped as much as humanly possible but he's not human. The best I could do was pull up the steeper bits and roll the eleven down. I allowed him the glory of headwinds and long screaming descents. And a bit more.
We took long looks back at every hilltop and long straightaway. Not a soul in sight. With two laps to go we caught the JRC breakaway guy. He was dying and latched on to us for about 200 meters then folded up and vanished. Expecting a renewed chase from his teammates we kept the pressure on.
Still nobody except debris from other races.
Two laps to go and I was sooooo wishing it was one lap to go.
One lap to go and it was getting harder to pull Dave up the hills. He started coming around me before we topped out. His legs turning a huge gear at 40 revs. His whole bike going creak, creak, creak from the torque.
We turned the last corner with 200 meters to the finish and a 4 minute gap to the field. "Ok Dave, I reminded him, I just want the jersey. You are welcome to first and that extra $5.00 prize money." We were side by side near the finish with me purposely 2' behind him. He surged and rudely finished 2 bike lengths ahead. We both pumped our arms and smiled.
Best $5.00 I ever spent.
K-Dogg
** Submitted by Cycle Logic team member, Kerry Duggan
