Banana Belt #3 (#2)

This is reposted from the race report on the Portland Velo website.

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Man, this race felt good.

It started out with all of us huddled in our cars trying to keep dry and warm while we waited for the race to start. It was poring down rain, coming in sideways. All my gear was wet even before I was finished changing into my kit. I gotta tell you, it was tempting to just pack it all back up and go home.

I spent all the time I should have been warming up debating whether to take my rain jacket or not. The question remained unresolved right up until the last call for the Cat 4's to come to the line; I decided to keep the jacket in my pocket and just go with a vest. It was a good decision. The decision not to warm up was not a good decision.

We're off. The pack is sketchy as all hell, what with everyone, myself included, half frozen and unable to keep a line. About half way through the first lap, I take off on a flier to warm up a little and test the legs. The legs are crap. Ron comes up to join me, but the pack is close behind and the legs have nothing, so we sit up.

Gradually, things started to warm up. The peloton was rolling fast and my fingers and toes were thawing out, even with the driving rain. It feels like being in one of those fancy showers that sprays your entire body from all angles. I'm getting hit from below, above, behind and in front. I can't decide whether to keep my glasses on or not. It was a true dilemma. Keep them on and run into pot holes, or take them off and spend the race blinking crap out of my eyes. Eventually, after putting them on and taking them off twice (probably to the consternation of the guys behind me), I decide on the latter route.

Portland Velo had six guys in the field and it showed. We controlled this race; there was almost always at least two of our guys patrolling the front. When the pace slowed, one of our guys went to the front and picked it up. We chased down or helped chase down the breakaways and initiated some of our own attempts. Some of the guys in the field mentioned after the race that they were watching us closely to see if we would try a breakaway because of our numbers. But while that didn't quite happen, the last lap really showed that our crew is getting our stuff together.

After a very slow third lap, the last lap started heating up with a couple breakaway attempts that were shut down quickly. Leading up to the dam, my first thought was to get through that corner safely. The lap before, everyone up front came in hot - even the lead car overcooked the corner and ended up in the traffic guard's lap. After getting through the corner safely, my first thought was to get to the front of the pack going into Lee hill. I always get pushed back in the pack up that hill, and that killed my attempts at a good finish two weeks ago, so this time I led the pack onto the hill, did the pack slide, and really pushed it and kept the gas down going over the top to get back up to the front again. I did this in time for the next hill, slid back a little and gassed it toward the front as we rolled downhill toward the finish. I reached the front at the 1km sign and looked at who was there. Paul had been pushing things since the top of Lee hill and was probably gassed. Ron is a good sprinter and was up there, and it didn't make sense for both him and me to be waiting for the 200m mark to sprint.

So I get over on the right shoulder and get up next to him. He started to jump a little, seeing me come up on the outside but not knowing who I was and not wanting to get boxed in. I said "Hey Ron, grab my wheel". Hesitated for just a moment and then clicked up a couple gears and accelerated. I took a page from the Dave Haag book (he led me out at a Hornecker sprint one Sat.) and didn't jump like in a sprint, but rather just kept shifting up, mashing on the pedals and keeping the torque high, the acceleration constant and my head down. I hoped that Ron heard me and I wasn't just dragging the pack around; I couldn't see him on my wheel. Down, over the bridge, still accelerating, trying to keep the speed up. Up the rise before the finish and starting to bog down a little. Right up to the crest and Ron comes sweeping by with a single guy on his wheel. I have momentary thoughts of continuing my effort to try to place, but I am really, really flamed out. The guy on Ron's wheel gets up to his bottom bracket and I am hoping that Ron can hold him off. They are accelerating toward the line and I am accelerating the other way, so I miss the finish and just concentrate on keeping out of people's way.

It was a great race, with the best execution of teamwork of any race I've been a part of. None of it was planned, but you can really get a sense that the Cat 4 crew is getting used to riding with each other and we're starting to know each others' strengths. We are starting to learn how to race. No other team attempted a leadout; leading out Ron was like shooting fish in a barrel. It turned a statistically favorable win into an almost sure thing.