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Tour of the Catskills 2010 - Men’s Cat 3 Report

So let’s kick this off with “High 5 (Rock the Catskills)”, from Beck’s multiplatinum 1996 release Odelay. While the Men’s Cat 3 contingent didn’t exactly do that, the chaotic, freewheeling tune somehow fits (and lets me test audio posts).

Prologue - Uphill, not steep, and shorter than I like. Time trials with 7 out of 10 legs are awful; you’re good enough to hurt, but you know you’re not going fast enough. Better to have no form, do it at tempo, and save your legs/the agony. Plus the holder dropped me at the start because holders are stupid and shouldn’t exist outside match sprints. If I had it to do again, I’d go easier on the first pitch and use aerobars. 

I was 26th, 42” back. Matt was 22nd, a few seconds faster (not dropped by holder). Paul’s doping therapeutically-approved inhaler was apparently out of juice and he was all full of mucous, causing him to finish further back.

Stage 1 - The Catskill Epic [info] - So with Matt leading the team on GC, Paul sprinting decently, and me categorically unafraid of anything, we hatch the plan to put me into the early move to chase KOMs, help on the climbs if caught, and lead out Paul if it comes together at the flattish finish. Matt’s job is basically to just chill with the leaders.

Getting into the break was no problem—biggest hurdle was that the organizers never announced when the race went live. Two surges later, I’m in a group of three, with a fourth coming across. Make-up looked pretty good: one dude clearly holding on for dear life, one stronger, bigger dude, me, and someone who might be trouble. 

Pack was a little hesitant to let us go, but once we hit the first decent and got the 11s spinning, we pulled the margin out to nearly two minutes. The group was working equitably, but Mr. Might-Be-Trouble was being a bit of a pain, accelerating into his pulls and showing no guile about his strength. I re-shuffled the order with a contrived energy bar fumble to get off his wheel in the rotation and onto the bigger guy’s.

Coming into the foot of the climb, I’m getting pretty sick of big ring/sit on over the rollers, and ready to settle into a steady climbing tempo. Sadly, my rear shift cable snapped on the final descent before the climb, and 39/11 was definitely too stiff to get up that hill. I asked a cop for a screw driver (nope), tried to wedge a stick into the derailleur (spring in the way), and was forced to hike up the hill while waiting for the field and the wheel van (which had not gone with the break).

The high limit spring cranked all the way in got me to the 19t cog, which was at least rideable. I also got the welcome news that the time cut was a full 40%, meaning I should be in without too much trouble. A few minutes later, Paul rolled along—mucous and a nature break had put him off the back—but with a full set of gears, he dropped me pretty quick. 

I fell in with another Cat 3 and rode with the occasional Cat 4 gruppetto, making awkward transitions between spinning out and grunting over the mid-race climbs and descents. Finally made it back to reasonably steady grades, but five miles from the line I drilled a rock that flatted my rear wheel. I unclipped, popped open my bailout Coke, and began walking, pretty sure I could still finish in time.

A few minutes later, a passer-by saw me an offered a tube. Far be it for me to speak ill of a Good Samaritan, but the guy was maybe not the most technically-savvy cyclist in the world. His pump was Schrader, his tube was Presta, and, while he did have some sort of valve adaptor, it was the size of a .44 shell and not suitable for the task at hand. When he went to the CO2 cartridge, the valve stem snapped in half.

The botched service did let me at least see that my rim had been totalled by the rock, so I was now back on the bike, rumbling along at 9mph, when a second, much more competent-looking spectator (named Darren, maybe?) came past. I warned him that pretty much everything I touched was turning to manure today, but we got a fast change done, and he got a fast tow back toward Windham. 

Unfortunately, the rock had also shredded the bead of my tire, and just over a mile from the line, the tube wormed its way through the weak spot and popped. So I crossed the line doing about 12mph, stuck in a single gear, on ruined rubber and ruined metal, some 47 minutes back. Ahead, Matt had lost contact on the climb, and inexplicably waited for Paul (not enough hazing, clearly)—who rightly chewed him out for it. 

Oh, and Mr. Might-Be-Trouble from the break? He took both KOMs and finished 3rd in the field sprint.

Stage 2 - The Mountaintop Classic [info] - So with everything pretty much gone wrong, and Matt needing penance, we decide to put him, ostensibly our best climber, in the break and hope for the best.

His first efforts to get clear were a bit early, since a KOM at six miles and an antsy KOM leader (refused to let any breaks go and then attacked to take it a KM out) kept the pace very high early. But tired legs began showing on the descent after the climb, and some gaps began opening. I spun around looking for him, and just after a regroup, a bigger guy powered off the front. 

I went to the right side of the road, and with Matt on my wheel, drove straight to the front and set a false tempo as the Freshman attacked and bridged across. The GC was pretty tight, so there was lots of nervousness toward the front, with little groups attacking/surging, but I and the Race Leader did some decent work regulating, and after two riders bridged, the break was clear. Nice to see that, with everything else that went wrong, my escape sense was still solid. 

The gap was pretty small (45”) until we hit the descent. Right at the top, an armada of the tiniest dudes in the race came to the front, and I inserted myself into all the attractive spaces you might use to pass them. End result was a pace ~10mph slower than yesterday’s effort from the break and a big gap at the bottom.

By this point, I was beginning to feel a bit beat from all the chasing/false tempo/wind eating, so I rolled back into the field and ate some bars. Effort was pretty low for a while (126 bpm), but after we went through the feed zone, people started setting serious tempo, lining out the field along the roads leading into the decisive Devil’s Kitchen climb. 

My legs weren’t feeling great, but out of pride/principle, I tried to get up to the front of affairs going into the climb, and just couldn’t reintegrate myself into the paceline properly. I settled into the clump behind the single-file section again (planning to ride the climb to finish, anyway), but as we hit the final corner before the climb, the race leader just up and slid out on some gravel.

I had a great view of it, and it just seemed like a freak accident—he was at the front, had a clear view of the road, didn’t touch any wheels as far as I could see, and just tilted a little too far/stood a little too soon. No one else went down, though he looked pretty staken, though not seriously injured, when I rolled gingerly by. 

There was no immediate stop, but people definitely rode easily afterwards. If he’d been quick about it—back on bike first, injury assessment later—rejoining wouldn’t have been a hassle. I voiced moderate support for waiting (because I had a rider in the break), but the pace slowly worked its way back up as the climb loomed. 

The KOM leader touched off hostilities before the climb even began. I talked to him after the Stage 1, and he seems like a nice guy, but damn if he isn’t all power, no savvy. Matt was reeled in on the first pitch (though apparently, part of the break stayed away) and once I passed Paul a few minutes later, the SweetOpenRoads.com p/b The Bike Hub mantle was on my shoulders.

The Devil’s Kitchen was as-promised. Very steep sections with painfully clear visibility, connected by not-as-steep sections with no view up the road. I rode conservatively, and with a little more on the line/better position, probably would have ridden the flatter sections, where lots of people rest, much harder. Also, the climb is pretty much done 1km from the top. Yes, it still goes up, but at <5% grades. 1KM is your cue to start hammering again.

Finish is a blast. I fell in with a NYAC rider who was a righteous slab of beef and a skinnier guy from Landry’s/Minuteman and we ripped it up chasing on the descent. I really would have liked an 11, and started cramping a bit, but it was still fun. Even got a tailwind on home stretch. I came to the front at 500m, trying to compensate for a few missed pulls earlier, and lost a few seconds as NYAC-dude sprinted against a shelled Master’s rider. I was 33rd, toward the tail end of the preliminary results. Paul finished in the next group, and Matt rolled in a few minutes later.

While things didn’t go well, at all, for any of us, the Tour of the Catskills was still a blast. Yes, the courses are hard, but that’s kind of the point.  Plus, with no true mountain-top finishes, there’s plenty of ability for savvy rouleurs to keep up in the stage/GC hunt.  I’m excited to come back next year with better luck and better gears (11-28 MTB cassette) for Devil’s Kitchen.

Oh, and despite a noble effort from another rider on the final stage, I retained my position as lanterne rouge on GC by a solid five minutes.