After three weeks of jaunting around to race cross bikes in beautiful sunny weather and warm temperatures, this past weekend finally provided the dreary weather that most people associate with the sport. I had originally planned on taking off from racing and catch back up with the weekend tasks that have been put off to make room for my out of state travels. However, as the Saturday approached the word of other New Yorkers heading down to the Whirly Bird Cross in Bryn Athyn caught my attention. The compulsion to race at least once per week proved insurmountable and sure enough, I left the concrete canyons of Manhattan for the green pastures of Suburban Philadelphia (and location of the first Pitcairn autogyro flight in history) on Saturday morning.

As CJ, Jason and I headed out of the Upper East Side, the sky loomed with the threat of rain. When we arrived to the race the weather was mildly chilly and raining. After hearing that the course was slick, the NYC gang made sure to check the tire pressures. I’m still not used to the squirmy feeling, and am paranoid about pinch flats and as a result usually err on the side of too much air. I ended up running between 35 and 40 lbs.

We were getting ready in the overflow parking lot as the C race was beginning. Our car was parked right in front of the “circle of death.” A feature of the course where riders spiral in towards the center and then reverse direction to spiral back out. Imagine it as a sort of slippery green “Cinabon.” The thing about the circle of death is, that riders end up inside of it for, like, 30 seconds. That’s great for a seasoned trash-talker, but my heckling skills are not so finely tuned. I ran out of things to yell at Sam Fiorino after about 10 seconds. As he was still right in front of me, it got a little awkward. You know your bad at talkin’ smack, when your victim can heckle you back while still racing. Anyway, Sam had a great ride to finish on the podium for the second straight week, so at least my poor heckling didn’t slow him down.

Anyway, I got to the start line of the B race plenty early. I was not about to start in the back again and I traded good position for a real warm up. There was a small call up, but afterwards I was able to kind of nudge myself up into the second row. The start was nonetheless hectic, as I called to Jed to let him know I was right next to him and coming by. Some other rider leaned on me very hard for a good 40 or 50 yards before I was able to get free of him without crashing. I ended up in the top few guys at the holeshot. Very early on, a group of four formed. Chad Culbertson, Matt Harris, Bryon Kremer and I managed to create a sizable gap, working as smoothly as possible between crashes. Every one of us slipped and fell on at least one corner. At some point, I made a move and managed to win the first lap prime, but I was so slow in the technical stuff that the three other guys brought me back without a problem.

I spent most of the race trying to stay up and conserve energy. We settled into a nice rhythm by the third lap, having gained a good 20 second advantage on the field. For most of the race I rode in third or fourth position, and occasionally took my turn setting the pace. A couple times I tested the legs of the others by trying to motor in the straights, but I could never get a big enough gap to hold them off in some of the twisty stuff. It was so slick that even putting power down on the flat fast sections sent my rear wheel fishtailing all over the place. All four of us ended up riding very conservatively where necessary, even running through some of the steeper off-camber 180’s.

Ultimately, my patience and conservative race plan paid off. Towards the beginning of the last lap, Bryon went down really hard into one of the wooden stakes holding the course tape. A short distance later, Matt (who had come around me when I slowed to avoid riding over Bryon) lost his footing on a tricky corner. This opened up a window for me and I took it. I never got more than a 5-10 second gap, but it was all I needed. I drilled it on the fast, power sections and tip-toed through the tricky stuff. My glasses were so obscured with rain and mud that I tossed them for fear of crashing. With about a minute left in the lap, the sky really opened up and it went from a drizzle to a full-on downpour (I had some serious delusions of grandeur while leading the race on the last lap in heavy rain). With a few turns left in the course, I began to relax. One last off-camber descent and I was on the gravel road to the finish line.

I slowed to a stop and slumped over my bars with my friends and family who had cheered me into the finish. I noted that CJ was there already, and it meant only one thing: he would be replacing more bike parts this week (will somebody please tell him to use steel bars?). By far the coolest part of the race was that my sister was able to come out. She goes to college in the area and made the 45 minute drive so that she could stand in the rain to watch her first cyclocross race. My dad was also in town and came out to take it in. Hearing them on the last lap was really better than I could ever convey. In a sport like cyclocross, with such exquisite suffering, the encouragement of friends can really make the difference.

photo copyright Anthony Skorochod

 

I have to give Jed a shout out.  He used his call up to full advantage and finished in a strong sixth, despite crossing the line covered in blood.  From what I hear, he got in a fight with a chainring on the run up.  His arm payed the price, not his honor.  For the sake of Jed and those who hate the sight of blood, I’ll let Jed share the pictures himself.

The Whirlybird 2008 will definitely not be forgotten soon. It was a fun, tough race. It may not have had the overwhelming numbers or prestige of a Gloucester or Granogue race, but it had the refreshing grassroots appeal that is so crucial to rabid following that this sport seems to foster. It was also fun to race in the rain for a change.