By Chris Mecray

Just back from 4 days of racing at the Green Mountain Stage Race near Burlington, VT, I humbly offer my observations from the perspective of a neophyte Cat 4 rider closing out his first full season of bike racing (Pro 1/2’s, you may click away now. The rest of you, feel free to chuckle away at my misery and incompetence). With perfect weather, gorgeous scenery, and courses offering massive doses of climbing, even according to riders from real mountain states, the event would surely be described as near perfect – at least for a properly trained cyclist. My own description would be a more modest ‘very nice’, qualified only by the fact that I was restricted for long stretches to tunnel vision and unseemly drooling by my pounding heart-rate, holding back vomit after numerous maximum efforts, and wishing Scot Willingham had included “how to pee on the bike during 4 hour races” in the syllabus of his coaching regime. During hours off the bike, mostly spent eating, sleeping and taking several swims a local stream, I did manage to appreciate the incredible natural beauty of the area, which made the race worth attending by itself. On the bike, I mostly appreciated the wheel in front of me as I gasped for air and prayed for salvation from the relentless upgrades.

Prologue (Day 1): How does a mass-start prologue offering an 8.2 mile climb with 20% grades towards the top strike you as a starter? Personally, it inspired genuine fear for me as I had not actually climbed such a hill at race pace since a) my days as a pro back in the early 90s, or b) um, ever. You guess which one. River Road it was not. After a 2 mile neutral start, the race began after a right turn over a narrow bridge leading to the Appalachian Gap road. I, along with two CRCA/Skyline guys Ben Hughes and Anthony Accardi and CRCA/Merrill Lynch’s Lorenzo Cavallaro, made our first major tactical error of the race (to be repeated later…) by starting near the back of the 92 man pack. Note to self: Show up at the start earlier, or at least consider being rude and pushing yourself to the front next year. I was too timid to be rude this year, being the ‘newbie’ that I am and still intimidated by what appear to be faster guys around me. Stupid me. I could probably kick most of their little pixie asses anyway with my hulking 168 lb frame.

Once on the road, it was very tough to move up the field as planned, with the yellow line rule making the road quite narrow, and I clearly wasn’t the only rider with ‘movin’ on up’ on the mind. Predictably, gaps developed early, and I was not in position to close them, stuck at one point behind a wall of slow dogs for 20 seconds or so. Of course the idea of pouring it on to close the gap that opened about 10 guys ahead of me came to mind, but was dismissed quickly as I considered the hill looming ahead and the prospect of starting it with a match mid-burn. Probably the key bad decision of the race. Still, please keep in mind this was no ordinary hill. The bastard was miles long, and got worse as it went, with 1,300 ft of elevation gain in the last 2.7 miles. At the end, an 18% grade made any forward progress at all on the bike a challenge. It was cycling drama in slow motion, set to the pounding beat of a pulse that made it seem my heart was sitting between my ears. I knew I was working at maximum when I tried to spit and a small chunk clung stubbornly to my chin and I couldn’t even be bothered to try to wipe it off. Is that an over-share? Sorry. It seemed poignant at the time.

All I can say is it eventually ended, and holding the guard rail for support and considering whether I would soon vomit, my friend and fellow CRCA rider Anthony Elgort approached to take a picture. I looked in his general direction and simply said, “I cant see you, Man. Gimme a minute.” Resulting photo below.

Stage Results? In my field, CRCA-SynergyBikeFit member Aaron Wolfe turned in an impressive 9th, just behind my friend (and former Cat 2 rider back in college) Eli Richbourg, who traveled from LA to participate in the race with me. Not bad for a flat-land city boy, Aaron. CRCA/Western Union’s Mattioli posted an also solid 15th place, while CRCA/ML’s Falk was 27th and his teammate Cavallaro was 31st. Ben Hughes from Skyline was 40th. I was a less impressive 51st (3:40 min behind the leader) – not my best performance, to which I partly attribute lack of aggressiveness at the bottom (maybe lost me 10 places) and, uh, tired legs and lungs (for the remaining 40 places…). Still, I made it up the hill mid-pack and without total embarrassment, so it was on to Stage 2. In retrospect, the key lesson learned was to get the right position at the base of any climb, whatever it takes, or risk losing a minute or two (um, or 3:40) to the lead group.

Stage 1 (Day 2): This 72 mile circuit race (two 36 mile laps) was a bit more to the liking of this New Yorker’s legs, with a mere 7 mile uphill section punctuated nicely by occasional flat sections for moderate recovery. Sort of like a Central Park race on steroids. Day 2 saw the top half of the field stay together and end in a mass sprint, though the narrow road once again prevented most of the riders from contesting the sprint fully, myself included. I decided, post-mortem, that I would have had to get in position within the top 15 or so at least 5 miles before the finish to fully contest, which was just not easily accomplished given the narrow road packed with 51 riders. Again, a lesson learned. I need to be more assertive about position earlier on, rather than just assuming that the road will open nicely a mile or two before the finish. It wasn’t at all like taking pole position around The Tavern in CP or moving into the wind to the left on the second to last leg at Floyd Bennett. Doesn’t work so well in VT on the narrow roads. Oh well, those who survived in the pack generally got the 100 points for finishing with the pack. Seems some 41 riders were dropped or crashed, as with Aaron of CRCA/Synergy – one crash, all of 1 mile into the race, apparently resulted in 3 broken bones for 3 riders involving a guard rail and truck, but it was the tail of the pack and few were even aware in the front half (I was informed about an hour later during a visit to the back of the field). Probably the most important thing about the day was that it clocked 72 miles at race speed on the legs that were about to face the monster hill climbs of Stage 2.

Stage 2 (Day 3): What can I say? It was probably the most challenging athletic pursuit I have participated in since college rowing, which was now fully 12 years ago. Oh, and unlike many more experienced CRCA club-mates, I spent many of those intervening years tied to a desk and surviving on airport-eatery fare before resurrecting the inner-athlete a few years ago. Personally, I can still see the pudgy-faced, 200 pound Cinnabon-eater underneath the now thinned out face in my photos, and yes, I’m haunted by it. You try living in Baltimore for three years and see if the steady diet of chicken wings and beer doesn’t take a toll. No, they don’t serve salads in Baltimore. The only salad-tossing that happens in that town takes place in jail. At least I’m now within 5 pounds of my college weight, so the demons are largely exorcised. Plus, the chicks dig my bony arms and non-existent pecs. Same ones that dig Leo in Titanic though, which might be a warning flag.

Oh, the race. We started with a rolling hills course for 27 miles to warm up the legs and head south from Sugarbush ski resort to the Middlebury gap. I spent the entire 27 miles in near panic over my need to urinate (in spite of two loo visits pre-race!). Do I pull over and try to catch back up? No way. Im not that fast a pee-er. I could probably change a tire faster. I saw one guy go off the front Tour-style, but I was afraid of that too since, again, I’m not that fast a pee-er. I mentioned my need to Ben Hughes, who told me he had to go too, but would wait to soil his trou until he absolutely had to (sorry Ben, don’t show the wife and kids this article). I began to resign myself to that fate, which even now seems wholly undignified on many levels. Can’t the group just slow down for me? Geeze.

Oh, the race. Immediately after a feed that came too early for most, we faced a 2.2 mile climb that took us over the Middlebury Gap. The climbing was fairly steep in sections and certainly a maximum effort, but still essentially doable. The tough part was the pace, which was firm enough at the front to splinter the field thoroughly. Again, position near the front would have been more helpful here. I was mid-pack (hey, beats Day 1 starting at the ass-end, so I’m learning, right?), and some guys ahead of me allowed a gap to open, which forced me to start skipping around to find a decent wheel to follow. I did so and managed to hang around 50-100 yards behind the front group, but that wasn’t enough to stay latched on once they crested the gap. The chase down a 6 mile downhill and then flatter section commenced, initially with me alone and then after several miles joined by a group of 4 riders that caught me. Our group chased gamely, and eventually latched back on after the front group of some 20-30 finally slowed a bit. I later learned that my pal Eli from LA was leading the pace for that field in a deliberate effort to stay away and further thin the pack. Thanks a lot, buddy!

As we headed north again towards the Appalachian Gap (west side this time), we encountered numerous hills, several of which were nasty little 20% grades that saw a swarm of riders strain against the bars to keep moving. Reminded me of that awful steep section in the Paris-Roubaix, with a few unhappy legs forcing the riders to swerve back and forth to keep upright. This then led to a 2.5 mile gravel section, which just about killed my otherwise good humor as I had to literally chase the field again, which I learned later was chasing an attack by two riders who tried to use the bad road to get away – against good judgement and frankly, good sense and safety. Jerks. I never thought my tires could handle such a beating, and felt lucky to get through that section in one piece.

The final climb to the top of the Appalachian Gap was a 10 mile mostly uphill section, starting with the Baby Gap and then the App Gap, the latter with a profile not unlike a ski ramp – progressively more steep as we went along and climaxing at a 500-1000 meter section around 20%. This was new territory for me, folks, and I wasn’t at all sure I could actually get up the hill without cramping or collapsing at some point. It was essentially like adding the climb from the prologue onto a 55 mile hilly race, except that the last section was even steeper than the other side we climbed for the prologue. The only good news was I didn’t feel the urge to pee so much anymore. I guess it was reabsorbed or something. So, I had that going for me.

Well, I made it to the finish line after the field splintered thoroughly and all riders entered their own little hells. I managed to pass a number of riders on the way up – many of them stragglers from prior fields, some burnt from the pace at the front of our field. I passed a Cat 3 rider who appeared to weigh about 100 pounds, and another guy near me at that moment offered to trade body weight with him, which I found mildly amusing as I envisioned the number of fully grown American men who would actually like to trade bodies with that of a 12 year old boy – only in cycling!

I found, as I labored up the mountain essentially alone in a string of bodies, that it was easier to look directly in front of my wheel at the road and concentrate on my cadence than to look further ahead at the next bend. After seeing too many bends followed by another uphill section, my mind did not want to deal with the magnitude of the climb ahead. It’s a mind trick I have always played in endurance sports with myself, preferring to be “pleasantly surprised” by the progress made when I do look up, rather than actually focusing on the upcoming corner that never seems to come up fast enough and doesn’t seem to be moving nearer with a tepid 8 mph pace. It seems much faster when I look at the ground moving next to my wheel. Probably a sign of mental weakness that dooms me to mediocrity, but hey, whatever gets me through it, right?

The top of the climb was frickin brutal. As the trees opened, I saw the last 1000 meters, with the finish at the summit around a long bending corner, and I had to look way up and crane my neck because it was essentially at the top of a wall. Negotiating that was a world of hurt. As I looked ahead, I saw one guy riding back and forth in a Z pattern like a hiker, clearly too spent to take it head on. Others were laboring and swerving around but staying more or less straight. All, however, were moving at a snails pace barely fast enough to stay on the bike. As I hit the last section, I felt the beginnings of cramp from my depleted legs, and just started to repeat a mantra (OK, I confess it was ‘legs of steel’ repeated with every pedal stroke – sounds way corny now) to get me through and keep some sort of positive attitude.

There were cheering crowds lining the road in the last 500 meters, but the funny thing was we were moving so slowly in our rag-tag line of riders that it was like every onlooker got to have a real conversation with us. Most races you might remember hearing a few quick voices as you pass at speed – maybe your name from a relative or something. This time, it was more like getting a lecture from every fan. “Go man. Looking good. Keep it up. Yeah, that’s it. Hey John, look at that guy’s face. He looks like he’s having a baby. An Alien baby. Shit, I think he’s gonna burst a vessel. Call an ambulance or something. YEAH. Go, dude.” Then on to the next fan with lecture number two, and so on. I got snippets of conversation like walking down the street in NYC. “So, you go for the car and I’ll meet you past the finish line.” Huh? Cant you even focus on my pain here for a sec, lady? I sum the experience up by just noting that my pulse was maxed out around 200, but I was moving no more than say 2 MPH. Very surreal, and not fun.

Results? I was 28th (5:30 min behind the leader), which means only about 2000 meters gap on that climb, btw. Aaron Wolfe was an impressive 13th at 2 minutes back (hey, he doesn’t look like a half-starved refugee for nothing), while Mattioli of Western Union was 24th just ahead of me. Garcia and Accardi rolled in at 38th and 40th about 7:30 down. I further comfort myself in the knowledge that fully 33 of the 83 man field finished 10 or more minutes back, with the last guy finishing 2 hours back and 7 dropping out (possibly some technicals – I don’t know). That had to suck for them. Badly. I can at least say honestly that I feel most of their pain though.

Stage 3 (Day 4): The Burlington Criterium was a cool event, held downtown on closed streets with plenty of spectators. It was my first criterium, actually, as I was still Cat 5 for the Columbia spring event. 24 laps of a 1k course with a nice upgrade on the finishing section not unlike Cat’s Paw (taken 24 times, mind you). The corners were generally OK, though grates and manhole covers made the first few laps a bit nervous. Hay bales were well utilized across the fields on one corner, where the course turned onto a 1 block stretch of brick normally reserved for pedestrians. I personally saw two crashes into the bales from other fields, which added some drama to a group of onlookers sitting in a café four feet behind the barrier. Just picture a dude sitting and sipping a beer and suddenly a cyclist covered in straw is sitting in his lap.

Typical of crits, from what I gathered in advice seeking pre-race, the field strung out quickly from attacks on front (again, thanks to my buddy from LA who got me into this thing…) intended for that purpose. With gaps opening in the middle, and Cat 4 riders not appreciating the difficulty of closing even 10-20 feet, I was gapped into a group of 5 (also including Aaron Wolfe, SynergyBikeFit) behind the lead group of 25 (including Jaime Garcia, Merrill Lynch and Tom Mattioli, Western Union). The lead group stayed together (Garcia finished a strong 11th and Mattioli hung in for 24th), and we chased for 22 of 24 laps, managing to actually hold the gap steady the whole race, but sadly not close it. As it turned out, we were the only group to work well enough together to avoid being swept up by the lapping field, which took down the remaining 46 riders (the last group of 11 at 9 laps to go).

So, not a terrible result for me at the Crit (I was 28th in a 76 man field), though I learned my lesson about getting to the front of the field at the very start or avoid being gapped out of the race. A lot of strong riders saw their race ended by this phenomenon very early. Still, as in all tactical evaluations, it’s easier said than done, and I had the intention of being up front well in mind. Part of this is simply about aggressiveness and the willingness to take chances to get up front on the first corner, which could have caused a crash very easily. I took the middle road on this day.

One note about the quite fast 30+ field that included Kevin Molloy, Xavier Melendez, Steven Badger, David Taylor and Karl Rahn from CRCA. The winner of the Crit was a guy named Ramon Benitez (Intermediate Mortgage, Maryland) who provided a truly inspirational performance – easily the best of the day. Ramon got away early in the race, perhaps lap 4-5, and stayed away the entire distance, winning by a huge margin of 40 seconds. The dude was just amazing to watch, driving out of the saddle up the hill every lap with equal intensity that didn’t wane even in the final minutes. We expected him to be swept up around lap 20, but he actually built his lead from that point from 30 to 40 seconds, showing no sign of slowing down. Wow. That dude was seriously strong with the stones to match, and an inspiration to all who watched.

Final GC Results: I was 32nd, hurt by my 51st place in the prologue. Just squeaked into the top third of the field, which was my vague and unscientific goal to leave happy. I was actually happier though, with three top 30 finishes in spite of repeated tactical errors from poor positioning. CRCA also saw stronger results than mine, with Mattioli 12th and Garcia 20th.

Also worth mention, Steve Mandrapa of VisitBritain was 10th in the 4/5 A group (under 33 years old split), but he was swept up in the crit to mask an otherwise unreal overall performance, including an awesome 3rd place in the difficult stage 2. Looks like his strong showings in the park as a Cat 5 early in the season were not flukes folks. I think he lost half a pound too by shaving before this race. Ben Harris of Foundation was 12th in that field and Jason Parkin of Blue Ribbon was 20th – both solid rides. CRCA women saw three participants all make the top 10 in the Women’s 4 field, including Kelleigh Dulany, Comedy Central (5th), Kimille Taylor, Radical Media (8th) and her teammate Jen La Plante in 9th. Kimille won stage 1 and La Plante posted an impressive time-trial comeback from a gap to win the Crit. Finally, kudos to Justin Lubeley, who took third overall in the Cat 3 field after impressive top 4 placings in the first three days. I only met him briefly while we warmed up for the prologue two cars apart, but the dude is clearly strong and can hang well in the mountains. Nicely done.