Race of the West report

Ed Dunne's race
Forty hilly miles combined cat. 5, 60+ and women.

Halfway into the race Ed bridged up to the winning break of 7-8.  Near the end legendary 62 year old Dave Viney left the group and towed an unnamed cat 5 to first.

Ed got 2nd (and a bronze metal) in the field sprint for 3rd.

Good show Ed.


Kerry's race. 50+ men
Seventy hilly miles.  Thirty eight starters. Hill challenged Big Belgian Lambert Vaas pulled the plug at 60.  After 69 miles and 69 painful attacks/surges it came down to an uphill headwindy sprint (more like a stagger). Imagine 15 arthritic, cramping Lemmings trying to throw themselves UP a cliff.  The Dogg got 5th and $35.

Thank goodness this is the last decent road race on the Florida calendar.  Time for a rest. Time to just run around inside the fenced yard a while.

Bumper Bikes and Saint Purnell Parts the Sea of Mud.

Those who live on the mighty Mississippi are kissin' cousins to plagues and flood, miracles and mud. The river gives, the river taketh away. Ain't no thing - just deal with it and move on. Happens all the time they say.

Even before the 14th running of the 105 mile Rouge Roubaix bike race began, the host town of Saint Francisville had a problem. Four miles from the finish, a 100' long bridge flooded over, leaving a huge tree across the middle and a knee deep, gooey brown mud-slide at both ends. No earthly way to run a bike race across it.

Three members of Cycle Logic bike race team and one frenemy from another team came upon this scene of devastation on a reconnaissance drive the night before. While a half dozen anxious and unaccountably rude young racers milled about in panic and disbelief - Irish Ed Dunne calmly scouted out an alternate route involving a high sandy ridge and floating across on an oak stump Noah's Ark style. "Easy as Mississippi Mud pie." he implied.

While pretending to consider this dubious solution we were distracted by the god-awful thundering of a giant diesel engine approaching from upon high. It was Saint Purcell and his almighty bull dozer of justice. Raising his 10 cubit wide bucket he quickly smate the evil mud from both sides and cast the stubborn tree back whenst it came. There was rejoicing amongst the lycra clad chosen. The race was saved! Laisser les bon temps rouler! Let the good times roll.

Race Day
Race day morning and we lined up in mixed category race waves. Ninty-three of us were promptly escorted out of town by the High Sheriff of West Feliciana Parish with motorized Race Bible Angels beseeching us to "be not tempted to cross the yellow line at any time or be cast down unto the hell at the back."

Without incident our sweaty little tribe flew over 25 miles of smooth and sinuous roads with no great change of race position-until the 9 mile long rocky road to hell began. Immediately the slippery gravel, potholes and hills thinned the pack to about 25. Two miles later a dangerous single file snake of 15 guys were opening up a dangerous gap. Shaking off my stupor I moved to the front then put the hammer down. A few guys, including Frank Jennings (1st last year) Randy (2nd last year), my teammate Lambert Vaes and Jayson O'Mahoney jumped on my wheel as I dove from slippery corner to slippery corner to shrink the gap. Thirty seconds later I latched on to what would become the winning break.
Whew!
Sit in. Recover. Go again. Sit in. Recover a little less. Go again. Think about famous Greg Lemond quote "...It never gets easier-you just go faster."

A mile or two later I notice Jayson, who is a much better time trialist than I, inexplicably vanish off the back. He had one of his few bad days apparently and later broke a spoke. At least it wasn't his chain again. Belgian teammate Lambert Vaes was on the verge of catching back on but flatted. He went on to finish 4th and in the money even so.

Emerging back onto blessed pavement I counted nine 40+ men and three of us 55+ men. No women at all were left, unlike the two previous years, the pace was apparently too high this year. But it was time to make sure we stayed away from the other 80 riders so I encouraged a big rotation long and loud enough (emphasizing that we were 55+ and no threat to their prize list) that we held the chasers off.

An hour or so later we left the big rolling paved hills of Mississippi and headed back towards Louisiana onto dirt on Blockhouse Hill. Blockhouse is about 1 mile of 15% packed gravel road with a fat guy at the top waving a crisp $100 bill for the first up. Three or four guys went after it hard leaving the rest hoping they would blow up and come back to us when the pavement returns 2 miles later (which all but one did). Once you reach the top you plunge down and up two more short but steep hills with deep, wheel sucking sand at the bottom - which you hit at 40 mph trying to hold momentum up the other side. You realize this watching guys suddenly fishtailing and face - planting all around you.

Being a mediocre cross biker I too was soon fishtailing and looking for a soft spot to land when a sort of miracle occured. I say sort of miracle because a string of obscenities, including the lord's name in vain, erupted violently behind me as a 180 lb blasphemer rammed my rear wheel and "bumper-biked" me back upright and through the sand pit unscathed and rolling back up the hill. At the top I was amazed there was no damage to my tire or wheel. I love my Kryseriums. After 5 years of racing and 3 Rouge Roubaix's they are truly bullet proof.

Soon, 4 of us were back on pavement then quickly chased down two more. More importantly, only Gus Ferrar and I were left in the 55+ with Randy still fighting the sand pit. Sweet! lots of horsepower and little obligation to chase hard.

Eventually we entered the last of the dirt sections. The first hill was almost impossible to ride up without falling over on the steep, slippery gravel and 17% gradient. I was determined to finally ride up it unlike last year when Frank Jennings (who went on to win anyway) popped a wheelie right in front of me and stopped everybody cold.

This year Gus and I were side by side torqing out 20 rev's and rocking back and forth when he also popped a wheelie and stopped everybody cold. I must confess, I blasphemed him as he thrashed on the ground trying to unclip. Seeing an opportunity to sneak away with 1st place I ran my bike hard up the rest of the hill, jumped on and bombed the next few scary dirt rollers like a bat out of hell.

It was to no avail. The dude is very strong, he chased me down and kept me on the rivet every uphill. Luckily I have been taking descending lessons from Jayson and gained it all back while I put my brain on hold, just as I was taught.

Back on "pavement"
For the next 20 miles Gus and I rode in the company of 3-5 40+ riders who came and went (backwards) fighting fatigue and leg cramps. For some reason Gus either felt really good or didn't realize I was his only competition left and took almost as many pulls as the youngsters who wanted to rein in the last guy off the front. I pulled a fair amount of time but leg cramps dictated a slower speed than most of the others. Ya got what ya got.

For a while I considered telling Gus I wouldn't fight him for first since he was stronger but stopped short. Who knows what he really had left. It could be a bluff. Let him prove he is stronger. My team wants me to win.

Well, he was stronger - quite a bit stronger as it turned out. The final sprint is up a nasty two-step hill. Whatever cramp you silenced talks loudly now.

"Shut up legs!" I said.

At the top of the first hill I surged ahead a bike length. "He's fading! He's fading!" I thought. "Please stop! Please stop!" said my legs.

"Shut up legs!" I said again.

I hear a gear click and two youngsters with Gus in tow were suddenly 2 bikes in front of me. "Sit down! Sit down you moron!" yelled my legs. I sat down.

I am not Jens Voigt. I listen to my legs.

My legs won the argument. I got second in the race. We both felt blessed by Saint Francaisville and will be back next year.



Laissez les bon temps rouler!

K-Dogg

Southern Cross Race and Mr. Dobalina

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina. Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Google this name. You will eventually discover it's from a strangely addicting repetitive song by The Monkeys from 1967 called "Zilch." Like an irritating jingle that won't leave you alone it was firmly lodged in my brain for the whole weekend by a certain little Australian monkey at the start of the 2012 Southern Cross Extreme Cyclocross race last weekend.

Three middle aged (plus) road racers decided to drive 450 miles to torture ourselves and 3 expensive bikes up and down 7000' of climbing and 50 miles over rough dirt paved with granite outcroppings. But before this fun the race promoters insisted we navigate an insidious cylocross course of felled trees, knee high clingy kelp-like grass fields, slippery stream crossings and 10' high vertical ditch walls.

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

The weather report called for 38 degrees with a high of 46. Wind at Springer mountain ridge clocked at 35 mph with gusts. Possible ice on the roads. Just before the race my bottom bracket was making cracking noises every stroke. The race mechanic rode a little circle, shrugged and said "don't worry about it. Aluminum and Titanium always do that."

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Back to the car. Nervous chatter with Irish Ed and Aussie Jayson. Make jokes about how differently they pronounce the "F" word.
"I'm freezing! What are you wearing? Will I sweat like a pig on the the climbs then freeze on the way down?" Throw clothes in the car. Grab them back out. Take turns nervously peeing behind car. Cram down Sport Beans for no good reason.

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Ten minutes to start we head towards the start only to see 300 people already lined up 8 wide and football field deep. Crap!
Remember it's a mass start. Men up to 40, Men over 40, women, juniors and "others." The whole gaggle is supposed to sprint
50 yards then leave the pavement en mass into a grassy hole shot that plunges down out of site like a double black diamond ski hill.

Everybody intends to be at the very front to avoid the inevitable log jam as the course funnels down to 4' wide at the felled tree.
For some reason Jayson and Ed decided to be good boys and slink to the very back of the herd. Having not been schooled in proper U.K. finishing schools I stopped two rows back and weaseled my way into 15th position. Unlike selfish roadies, I found X'ers extremely polite and accommodating. They actually smiled and made room for me. When the gun went off Ed and Jayson continued being good boys politely waiting a full minute to even clip-in. I was half way through the course. Good on them!

Being so far forward I was able to comfortably hold position thru the narrows, up the kelp hills, over the felled tree, cross the slippery stream, up the vertical wall and 100 yard hill that few could ride up.

Then we hit blessed pavement and 20 or so bikers ahead formed eschelons heading out of the vineyard and toward the first 12 mile dirt climb up Springer Mountain. Jayson and Ed were still seething in line at the felled tree with 295 people flailing around in front of them.

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Half an hour and a few dozen minor ascents and descents our little group of 6 guys hit the base of Springer chasing 15 or so top guns. Springer Mountain has an average grade of 15% with several long sections of 25-27%. The road is so rough and steep only 4 wheelers can keep moving. That, and bikers with a minimum of a 34 X 28 gearing. It takes most people over an hour to top. Our little group eventually lost 3 off the back and I was 100' (and 30 seconds at that speed) behind the rest turning squares at about 7 mph. Somewhere in the 27% purgatory section, 137 pound teammate Irish Ed quietly floated up and past me like a polite wee shadow. "Ah Kerry. stay with me now" he breathed. Finding little draft at walking speed Ed slowly vanished into the boggy mist like the Tuatha De Dannon never to be seen again. Left alone in my granny gear, the Monkey's mantra seeped back matching my cadence......

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

At this point the rear tire started bottoming out on the rim from time to time. A few bounces confirmed this. I was down to about 20 pounds. Stopping at 27 % is out of the question. You'd only trackstand then stupidly pull a Wiley Coyote over the cliff face. Twenty minutes later I hopped off and found it was holding. Should be ok. Forgot about it and started the 8 mile 15% switchback descent. Several people came past at irresponsibly fast speeds. Eventually it ended onto a three mile stretch of civilized pavement. Now my body knew what do - go into a tuck and run down the last 4 to pass me. No skill required. Approaching 35 mph the 20 pounds in the rear hissed as loud as a commercial sandblaster and rolled about as well. Crap! Can't stop now! Bridge up! Bridge up!

Ok-bridged up just as the last big climb back up and over Springer Mountain began. Eight miles straight up. At least I was in my element and soon dropped everybody except a really nice 18 year old named Boris. Yes, Boris from Birmingham. We stayed together the whole climb. Nobody passed us except two tall guys on single speeds. They don't count. It had to be an illusion.

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Just over the top my rear tire finally gave up the ghost. Tire change took 3-4 minutes in a cold 35mph wind-fumbling with cold hands, over stuffed pockets and my only air cartridge audibly depressurizing.

The last big 8 mile descent was much rougher, sketchier and scarier. Several rude people I'd dropped flew past drifting through the bumpy corners at speeds I wouldn't do on pavement. They don't count either.

Eventually the pavement returned with 5 rolling miles to the finish. Up the road I acquire a good target-another master with better downhill skills. In two miles I was doing most of the work pulling us up to a group of four when he attacked me! Sneaky old bastard! He came back but the die was cast.

We were in 13th and 14th position in the 40+ category so it seemed silly-but- he slowed, I slowed.

Minutes later we entered the vineyard, leaned into a screaming downhill only to slam on the brakes as we were abruptly directed back onto the final 2 mile 'cross course of death by a loud bell ringing blonde. She was pointing at a vertical wall. Imagine an 8' tall red clay cinder block wall leaning just slightly away from you followed by 100 yards of 45 degree "finish you off" hill. "Go old guys!" she screamed. Side by side scrambling up the climbing wall I noticed my companion set his jaw and grind his teeth in anger. "How could she tell?" was all I could think of to say. Side by side the top of the hill turned into another hill but paved. HIs 'cross skills were better. We had both changed to the small ring at the base but he still had it in the 11 when he jumped on his bike and proceeded to fall over. One second back I chuckled, jumped on my bike and almost fell over too. "Go old guys!"

Paging Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina.

Over the pickle and through the woods we battled back and forth. He dropping me on the technical stuff, me grinding back and passing on the grassy hills. He'd pass me with superior dismounts and remounts while I had the superior skills of bruising trees and ramming marker posts.

Eventually he crossed the finish line a second or two ahead of me to take 13th in the "Old Guy" category. Well done. We kept the race honest to the end.

Ed was standing with a gaggle of grinning racers who finished well ahead and said he loved every bit of it except having to stop twice and squirt more green sponge to keep his tire going. Tubeless seems to be the way to go-that and losing 14 pounds.

Half an hour later, "angry tank" Jayson unloaded his bike from a pickup truck. His chain mysteriously broke at the bottom of Springer Mountain half-way into the race. He was understandably in a black mood but vowed to redeem himself the next day on the Doc Holiday road race (which he did) and at next years Southern Cross Extreme 'Cross race. Ed and I also vowed to return but I assure you Mr. Dobalina will not.

Kerry Duggan

Swamp Classic podiums

Team Cycle Logic/Bike Works had a very successful weekend in Gainesville, Florida February 4th & 5th.

Darryl Tompkins, Lambert Vaes and Kerry Duggan rode as a team to secure a 4th place finish for Darryl in the 50+ Masters category on Saturday's circuit race. Lambert was the consummate teammate at Sunday's downtown crit, chasing down breaks and bridging gaps so that Darryl could be well placed for the sprint. Darryl finished fast enough to obtain a spot on the podium and show off Cycle Logic's new team kit.



In the 40+ masters Omnium, Cycle Logic/Bike Works team member, Rob Robins rode three solid races in one of the most hotly contested fields of the weekend to finish in third in the omnium. Former Cycle Logic member, Jayson O'Mahoney got into the winning break of Saturday's circuit race which also enabled him to finish on the final podium. Congrats guys!



In the woman's Cat 1-3 criterium held downtown Gainesville on Sunday, Cycle Logic/Bike Works team member, Cindy Tompkins sprinted to a 3rd place finish. That podium, coupled with her 5th in the circuit and her win in the time trial meant that Cindy would also finish in the top 3 for the overall omnium.



All in all, it turned out to be a heck of a weekend for Cycle Logic. Thanks to everyone who came out to support the Orange and Gray. Stay tuned for more race updates as our team tackles races throughout the year.

Cycle Logic/Bike Works 2012 Kit

By now many of you have already seen the new Cycle Logic kit speeding around various race courses or standing on podiums. For those of you who have yet to see the new design, or were unable to view it's intricacies while it flew past you, here is your close up.



Once again, thanks to all of our sponsors for their support, 5count for another great design and to Louis Garneau for such top-notch apparel.

We Brought it On!

The 2012 edition of the Bring It On race produced two wins for local bike racers.

In the “A” race, Gainesville Cat. 1 Eric Stubbs (Gearlink) took the win in a two-man break dangling off the front of a dozen or so pursuers.

The “B” race and some juicy primes were won by Port St. Lucie's Randy Walker (T.C. Werks). Interestingly, second place was St. Augustine 13 year old Hans Vandenberg (Slipstream Craddock Jr. Development).

The women’s race, and most of the primes were won by Gainesville’s Cindy Tompkins racing for the host-team, Cycle Logic of Gainesville.

A Special thanks to Tony Cousins, owner of Bike Works, for helping sponsor and provide multiple lap primes for racers of all categories as well as Super Cool and Bikes & More for their prime contributions. Cycle Logic cycling team would like to thank all the volunteers who helped make the race possible and all the great spectators who came out and supported our local race.

Bring it On - 2012 Results
A-Race Results

(01) Eric Stubbs- GearLink
(02) Chuck Jerabeck- JRC
(03) Ian McMullen-Velobrew
(04) Ryan Saylor-GearLink
(05) Ben Page-352 Racing
(06) David Gibson
(07) Derek Schanze-GearLink
(08) Greg Buker-FSU
(09) Dustin White-Velobrew
(10) Tal Mincey-Cycle Logic
(11) Jim Wright- JRC
(12) Ken Sallot-Velobrew
(13) Martin Cox-SuperCool
(14) Ben Talbot-352 Racing
(15) Darryl Tompkins-Cycle Logic
(16) Jayson O’Mahoney-Velobrew
(17) Ty Mader-JRC
(18) Joe Christian-US Military cycling
(19) Carlos Segura Jr.-SuperCool

B- Race Results

(01) Randy Walker-TC CycleWerks
(02) Hans Vandenberg-Slipstream-Craddock Junior Development
(03) Gabriel Suarez-FSU
(04) Jared Coffin
(05) Alan Edwards
(06) Scott Erker-Cycle Logic
(07) Joseph Fritz
(08) Thomas Cox
(09) Steven Engle-352 Racing
(10) James Gunter-Velobrew

Women’s

(01) Cindy Tompkins-Cycle Logic
(02) Liz Gerroty-FSU
(03) Mandy Hall
(04) Amy Horstmeyer-352 Racing
(05) Amanda Adams-UF
(06) Sue Bowers
(07) Dawn Decaminda-Team Bents
(08) Dana Zimmel-Cycle Logic
(09) Savannah Still-FSU
(10) Holly Beard-UF
(11) Jo Weaver
(12) Wren Humphrey-FSU
(13) Gabriela Mendez

Photos of the "Bring it On" event can be seen at the links below
Vicki Santello Photography
Martin McCrory Photography

Cat4 State Cyclocross Race recap

Little Everglades Ranch, Great Race, Great Venue
by Ed Dunne


About 20-30 men lined up for the Cat4 state cyclocross race. And we were off! There was a hard initial sprint on grass to the first descent and then a hard left, someone went down. The main group dissected around him and went up a steep grade, several off-camber turns and down again through gravel and sand.

Everybody was mostly together, until we went into a wooded area that had deep soft soil with little grass cover. It graded up twice and then back into deep sand, which led into a barn! Through the barn, around the corner and soon we were heading for the first barrier. One barrier, two barrier... Soon there were stairs, one step, two..run, jump, pedal, pedal.

A couple of laps past and I found myself in the lead. I tried to go a little harder to put a bit of space between the following six guys, BUT, On bunny hopping out of the barn at a clip, I turned too hard on a grass corner and the back wheel went out from under me and I was down...One, two, about 5-6 guys rode past. I was a bit dishevaled and disorientated, but I quickly jumped back up on the bike, peddled and discovered my gears were not shifting, yikes! I saw the lead pack leave me. Low and behold the gears starting shifting again, and I was soon catching them.

Caught most folks and began to get into a tempo with the main lead guy. On some of graded portions of the course, I began to pass him and soon I was about 20-30 seconds clear. I kept peddling to the finish line and discovered I had won!

Sneak Peek #2 - 2012 kit

With only about a week left until Cycle Logic's 2012 kits make it to Gainesville, we're letting you in on another glimpse of our new jersey.

Cycle Logic is very proud to be representing our gracious and supportive 2012 sponsors:
Bike Works - Team bike shop
5count - Graphic Design
Darryl Tompkins P.A. - Support Sponsor
Fit for Life - Support Sponsor
Ryan Saylor - Sock Sponsor
PainLab.org - Partner Sponsor

Stay tuned for the complete unveiling of the Cycle Logic 2012 team kit.

State Champ #2

Congratulations to Cycle Logic team member, Ed Dunne, for winning the Cat. 4 State Cyclocross Championship this past weekend in Dade City.

See the results here.

Rob Robins at Cyclocross States

Cycle Logic team member, Rob Robins raced at the State Cyclocross Championships in Dade City this past weekend and finished a solid top-ten. Rob should be tuned up for road season which starts in just a couple of weeks.

Congrats Rob!

Sneak Peek - 2012 kit

The Cycle Logic team will be unveiling their new 2012 kits in January. The team will be sporting a cleaner design that still utilizes the subtlety of it's background "texture". The "texture" is comprised of thirty different illustrated icons. The icons all pertain to (in varying ways) our team, our sport, our state, our culture and our community. Together they blend to create a subdued background that offers the viewer an atypical interaction with the kit, similar to our previous kit.

The 2012 kits have been designed by 5count and are being produced by Louis Garneau. These kits will provide the team with the professional-quality apparel that will afford us every possible advantage, both in aesthetics and performance.

Cycle Logic is very proud to be representing our gracious and supportive 2012 sponsors:
Bike Works - Team bike shop
5count - Graphic Design
Darryl Tompkins P.A. - Support Sponsor
Fit for Life - Support Sponsor
Ryan Saylor - Sock Sponsor
PainLab.org - Partner Sponsor

Check back soon for the complete unveiling of the Cycle Logic 2012 team kit.

Bring It On - 2012

We hope to see everyone out at Progress Park in Alachua, Florida on January 21st, 2012.

• Wide, open criterium, Flat, 1-mile course with two turns.
• Great for first timers AND veterans.

• On site registration: 1:15-3:45pm. Checks Payable to: Cycle Logic
• Races start at 2:00 p.m.

• Only $15!!! Fee includes $3 per rider for insurance.
• Women students race free (with student ID)

QUESTIONS? contact Darryl at: DJTOMPKINS@aol.com

Cycle Logic has a State Champ!

Photo by Michelle Blake
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

Darryl & Cindy get some Pub

Check out Cycle Logic's own Darryl and Cindy Tompkins in Oct/Nov issue of Gainesville magazine:
Click here for the link.

Nocatee Cat3 RR - August 27, 2011

Two bottles are typically enough for a 1 hour 40 minute effort. Saturday was not "typical" on many levels.

6:00am - 83 degrees.

6:15am - Pick up mates at official team race HQ (outer reaches of the Target parking lot).

7:00am - Stop @ convenient store so Kerry can "Do the Dew".

8:40am - Arrive at the course to a paparazzi mob of one (O'Mahoney with stolen camera).

8:45am - Begin race prep: stretch Lycra over sticky, sweaty, clean shaven legs; spend next 5 minutes getting said Lycra where it supposed to be; have teammate assist in unpinning the front of my jersey from the back so I can pull it on; loose the keys (Kerry stole them); loan out extra gear to those less prepared (uh um, Scott E); tell friends to park in places they shouldn't and get reprimanded by THE MAN; preview the course and call it a warm up; memorize the super-secret, sure-fire, race-winning strategy.

9:35am - Game on.

The race began with a slow roll out into a slight headwind that would soon-enough prove to be not-so-slight. The peloton was reminded by the race referee after a half mile that this was NOT a neutral roll out. Hounds released.

The attacks (and chasing) went on for the next lap and a half. Rob and I worked well together covering most attempts of substance and set each other up for a clean bridge here and there. Cylce Logic was represented in several moves that looked promising, but the bunch wouldn't have it. Following two hard chases into the wind on lap two, Alfred Baurley (who solo'd to victory in the Juniors race earlier), maintained tempo and rolled off as the bunch seemed content to recover for a bit. I was on deck to cover the next move and waited for a reaction. With none coming, I thought we'd see if they minded two up the road; apparently not.



It wasn't long before an ORC rider (Mike Hernandez) got away as well, so we eased up, welcoming the help as soon as possible. One lap later, the gap is around a minute, with a 4th rider coming across. Again, we ease off to let Roy Foley of AJ Barnes get a little respite and wipe the drool off his face after a monster effort. Roy quickly went to the front and did some serious work, and I'm thinking this could go the distance. However, conspicuously missing was team Velobrew, who had a lot of matches to burn in this race. I feared they would burn our house down, but I committed 100% to the break nonetheless.





Fast forward two laps: a chase group is attempting to crash our party, led by none other than The Juggernaut, Ken Sallot. Rob was witness to the carnage caused by Quadzilla after dutifully pulling back attackers and disrupting chase for most of the race. We get the "2" to go sign with a gap of about 25 seconds on the chase group (Sallot, Brian Stalvey, and Dustin White). I reasoned that the closing chase wasn't all bad; we (the four leaders) only had one teammate between us, and I figured the break would definitely be safe with two Velo-dudes in the mix.

The break may have been safe, but I wasn't. Rear flat with less than 2 to go. My heart bounced off the tarmac, it sank so fast. I let my break partners know I'd be seeing them and sat up. When I turned my head and caught a glimpse of the wheel truck (perfectly placed in the race), I thought, "There's a 1st time for everything, let's give this wheel change a college try." As soon as my arm went up, the wheel truck rushed to the seen of the crime. (Sidebar: A huge race-saving thanks to the wheel truck crew! Stellar job. If anyone knows who they were, please let me know.) A lightning quick wheel change and a nice push start had me within reach of the Groupe de Juggernaut that flew by me during my unplanned pit stop. With my adrenal gland resembling a squashed grape; I put my head down and red-lined it. Back in business.

Shortly thereafter, we catch the 3 leaders. Roy does a double take and gives me a compliment. Goosebumps from dehydration set in after the hard chase. No water left in the bottles. 1.5 laps to go, seven man break.



Halfway down the back stretch, the break seemed to become aware that we were the race and began to recover, setting up for the finish. We completed the final lap slower than the previous six, but with everyone contributing for the most part. The super-secret, sure-fire, race-winning strategy was to go real hard (~35mph) heading into the final roundabout, get a gap by cornering with nerves of steel, and try to hold it to the line (Rob and I measured the distance during our warmup: .35 miles). I had played with the roundabout speed on previous laps and knew a gap would open. To my surprise, the youngsters (Baurley and Hernandez) played my card first. I took up chase, and the 3 of us indeed rounded the 'bout with a gap. As expected, we got a strong face full of wind coming into the final straight. Barley was leading and sat up while swerving hard left; Mike began to slide left into his draft just as I lit the fuse. I barely squirted between them, but maintained momentum and wound it up. The pedals kept turning, through the cramps, until it was over.

I yelled in conquest after crossing the line, then began to wonder if I really hit the line first. The Juggernaut rolled up and held my bike while I stretched the cramps out of the hammies. I asked him if I was dreaming. He asked me if those cramps felt real.

Apparently there was talk of fines being handed down to CL for excessive celebration prior to completing the race; Rob had a party on the back stretch after getting the thumbs up from O'Mahoney. He still got 3rd in the field sprint. His feet were hurting from all the dancing, he said.