This is a recounting of USA Cycling Nationals and Senior Games Nationals, with three weeks relaxing in the mountains sandwiched between. The picture of our driving 5,400 makes the title an obvious choice.
We left June 25 for Milwaukee, Wisconsin (1,200 miles) and the USAC championships. There were three races, starting with a forty-five minute criterium on Saturday, a ten-mile time trial on Monday, and a forty-mile road race on Tuesday.
I had handicapped the competitors in my age group and knew I'd be racing for third place, with my nemesis, Durwood, and an unknown (Mike) with good palmares sure to take the first two spots. I wasn't sure about the other guys. For the criterium we were grouped with the 70+ guys, so I was hoping to just hang on for the first lap. As it turned out, it wasn't even the first 400 meters. But to my surprise and good fortune, Durwood was right in front of me. I hung on his wheel hoping I could keep up. We quickly caught another guy in our age group and he latched on to my wheel. Perhaps euphoric is too strong a word to describe my feeling as lap after lap went by and I was drafting him easily (as was the guy behind me). My concentration was such that I wasn't paying attention to actual racing tactics. For instance, why wasn't my heart trying to jump out of my chest? The younger, fast guys had lapped up twice and for whatever reason, it was in my head that they were about to pass us again before the last lap. As a result, when the guy (Bruce, by the way) jumped after the last corner, it didn't occur to me that the finish line was in sight. Durwood didn't jump and only in the last twenty yards did I realize my mistake. I received a 5th place ribbon for my error. As we found out later, Durwood was having health problems and wasn't anywhere near his normal self.
We moved hotels to Sturtevant, Wisconsin to be closer to the time trial on Monday. Across the street from the hotel was a large flatish parking lot and I did thirty minutes of warm up before driving out to the course. Parking was a problem but we eventually were situated and I did some more warming up. The course itself was a rectangle and we were to do two loops. The front side was a gradual uphill, the back side downhill and the sides were flat. Bruce started ahead of me, Durwood behind. There were others in the race but I don't recall their positions. Riders went off in thirty second intervals. It wasn't long, maybe two miles, before Durwood caught me. But by then, Bruce was in front of us, and we lost him on the second turn. I kept close to Durwood (no drafting allowed in time trials) for a mile or so but lost sight of him when he turned the third corner. I felt good going up the frontside. Bruce was no longer a concern and I kept the speed up on the backside. For the last lap the riders were supposed to use the far lane when making the turn, using the oncoming traffic lane. I immediately was aware I'd made mistake, but figured there would be a break in the median where I could rectify it. This is one of those twenty-yard wide, wildflower medians. With the finish shoot coming just around the corner, I had to stop, run across the median, and remount to get the proper time. Fortunately, I had put enough time between me and Bruce (and Dominic) that it didn't make a difference. That should have netted me a fourth place ribbon. But no, I came in third and a bronze medal. What we found out shortly after was Durwood had a medical incident and crashed and was taken to the hospital. Most of us are friends, Durwood has been beating me for years, so we checked with his wife if she needed anything and checked again a couple weeks later. He is back riding, nothing was broken, although he has a large hematoma.
It's a twenty-six mile drive from Sturtevant to Lyons which is the site of the road race. I had driven there and ridden the course on our day off. It was a beast, with some nasty hills. It would be forty miles, four laps for us, more for the younger guys. Once again, I'd be racing for third place. Now that I knew Bruce had difficulty climbing, I was pretty confident. The only worry was if I had the legs to do all that climbing. But then came the announcement like music to my ears. Because these were public roads, only the peloton would be protected. As a safety measure, if you were dropped from your group, you would be pulled but your place in the race would be secured. I'm not sure Bruce and Dominic understood the ramifications.
Because of the pubic roads, the first half mile or so, to the beginning of the loop, was held behind the pace car. We were once again with 70+. As we jostled for position I could see Bruce a few riders ahead. We made the turn and the young guys led us out at a reasonable pace. This was mostly flat or downhill and the hard climbs wouldn't start until the first right turn. We were all together until the turn and the road tilted up. Bruce attacked with the group, I found my own pace. About a mile further, after a few more climbs, I could see Bruce had spent all of his climbing muscles and was no longer in race mode. In cyclists lingo he was "pedaling squares." Using a high cadence, I made up the couple hundred yards on the last steep climb and left him behind. This was about six miles into the race. Then I hit it as hard as I could, not worrying about the hills to come. That's because we had been dropped by the peloton and there were no more laps for us. When it came time to start the second lap, I (and those behind me) was waved toward the finish line. And that is how I got a bronze medal by doing ten miles of a forty mile race. My actual racing time was thirty-five minutes rather than two and a half hours. My body was thrilled. The reason I thought Bruce and Dominic hadn't understood the announcement is that they didn't wait for their awards. USAC's podium goes to the top five.
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