Providence Day One - From the Eyes of the GoPro
Disclaimer: I don’t have time to proof-read this, so if there’s something amiss, it’s here to stay.
I’m going to tell the tale of the race in a different way today. Hopefully it’s awesome.
You will get to see what I saw during the Providence Day One Junior/B Men Race (Juniors riding away from me, for the most part) and I will offer some narrative in between.
The first clip will offer some perspective as to what it is like being on the start line next to a 15 year old and two 16 year olds, one of who’s father was a destroyer back in the day. His name is Brendan McCormack and he’s in the Hot Tubes kit to my right. His father is Frank McCormack.
You might also hear an odd voice cheering for someone named Alex Cox before we get the whistle. That voice belongs to your friend from the 200on100 with Ted King and Tim Johnson. Yes, it’s Ryan Kelly.
You will see four Juniors immediately take the lead: Curtis White, Peter Goguen, Nate Morse, and Brendan McCormack.
Then me.
After a few turns, Curtis White is pulling away and Peter Goguen is bridging to him. I offer some assistance to Nate, but then overshoot a corner and he blows by me.
Someone calls me “ChanBagger” and then Nate hops the barriers with ease as I begin to realize I have gone out way too hard.
This next clip is pretty uneventful, except it will offer you footage of a complete lap of Providence Day One.
It will also show you how horribly I struggle to stay in contact with the Juniors up ahead. Early in the clip, Brendan McCormack comes by me and we reconnect with Nate and Peter. Curtis, at this point, is pretty well gone.
As soon as we make contact after the pavement, Peter hits it again and I curse to myself as I fall off the pace.
And, like I said, the rest of the clip is the rest of a lap of the course. I think we had five more laps as I crossed the line. This was horrible news at the time.
I rode a little bit more alone, screwed up a corner, and the first adult, Johnny Herrick, caught and passed me.
Then he did what Nate did. Right after someone else called me “ChanBagger.”
I followed Johnny around for most of the next lap, admiring his cornering abilities and struggling to maintain his speed, except around the corner in the next clip…after which I come around him and we catch Brendan McCormack, who appeared to have blown sky high (he later confirmed this).
Coming through the start of lap three, another adult seemed to have latched on. David Romilly, maybe? If so, nice to see you my fellow 34 year old. Not only did Romilly connect with us, he hopped the barriers. It is beginning to seem like I am the only person who doesn’t do this.
When we hit the long stretch of pavement, I drafted. Felt so good. Then it appears we dropped McCormack and Romilly coming through the small stair run at the end of the clip.
I continued to struggle to stay on Herrick’s wheels through the corners for the remainder of lap three. At the start of lap four, Peter Goguen stood on the left side of the course with an apparent mechanical.
I was really concerned, so I didn’t stop and tried to go as hard as I could.
It didn’t matter, though. Peter, within four corners, caught me. And dropped me.
Then, coming through the barriers, Peter stepped aside with another mechanical. For how long was I safe this time?
Not very long…
…because he immediately rode away. And I let out a little sigh…
A lap later, we appeared to be catching my teammate, Nate. Coming out of the steps, I slowed to a near stop on the remount and there he was again…Peter Goguen on the side of the course with another mechanical.
When we caught Nate, he was barely moving and told me he had leg cramps, to which I replied, “Ride it out.”
So Herrick and I were now in 2nd and 3rd place. All alone…
Coming through to take the bell lap, Herrick gave a flick of the elbow, indicating he wanted me to pull through.
I declined.
He flicked the elbow again.
I declined.
Coming into the oddly-spaced concrete steps, Herrick appeared to have dropped his chain. I remounted and began to celebrate the fact that 2nd place was mine. All mine.
But then someone started to come around me.
Dobie…Kris. Dobie.
I followed Dobie for a bit, and then took the lead back through some lapped traffic. Then Dobie took the lead back and right where the next clip begins, Herrick caught back on…you see him on the left side out of the mini steps.
Prepare for nice view of my chin in the sprint.
I was so tired, I tried to wait as long as possible before sprinting. I almost waited too long, but was able to nip Dobie by little more than a tire width.
2nd place on the day, a distant 1:06 behind 16 year old winner Curtis White. Nate ended up 6th and Peter’s last mechanical ended up moving him all the way back to 37th place.
Posts like this are a real pain in the ass.
Set Yourself Up. To Fail.
I like to set unreasonable goals for myself.
In doggy classes they call this, “setting your dog up for failure.”
For example:
My wife will not take the dogs off leash in a busy parking lot. She will wait until the dogs are in the car and then unleash them.
I, on the other hand, will unleash them 50 yards before reaching the car to see if they will go to the car like I want. Inevitably, they do not, and I end up spending an hour trying to get the dogs into the car.
I can’t explain why I do this. Like Richard Sachs says, “It’s simple. But not easy.”
Is it?
For days leading up to Gloucester, I told everyone I was going to win.
To be more specific, I said things like, “I am going to win Gloucester.”
As the race drew near. er. I said things like, “I think I can win.”
Then, “Definitely a podium.”
Finally, on the eve of the big weekend, when Stu Thorne asked me what we were looking at for results from me I offered, “Top 5?”
Yes, with a question mark.
Saturday morning, I awoke to rain. Christian Heule had told me at the Cannondale p/b CyclocrossWorld.com team launch the night before that I would need mud.
“For a rider like you, who has no acceleration, you need mud. You have only one speed, so mud, for you, is good.”
Who did this guy think he was?
Six-time Swiss National Champ, that’s who.
Whatevs, yo.
I took three more hours than I intended to get ready Saturday morning, but luckily the race was 12 miles from my home.
12 miles that take 30 minutes, but who’s counting?
Upon arriving at the event, I saw the ridiculously awesome CyclocrossWorld Grassroots team area Chris Ragusa will be setting up at all the Verge Events, parked right next to my teammates Tim, Jamey, Nicole, Christian, and Kaitie. It was good that we all were so close. They would be asking me a lot of questions about tire selection and pressure.
Nice shirt.
We had a freaking pressure washer. Translation: Pre-ride the muddy course, wash your bike in 2 minutes, start with a clean bike.
And Chris has one of those air pumps that looks like a cordless drill with a digital reading. I kept deflating and inflating my tires to 26.5 pounds.
Because I could.
I think I actually ended up going with 26 pounds rear and 24 pounds front on Dugast Rhinos.
I warmed up on a trainer. I know. I know.
Soon enough, it was time to race, but I had to give my teammate a hug before I took to the line.
Me: I’m so nervous! Tim: You’ll do great, Chan!
Everyone says I’m fat, but I see a rib.
The officials did the call-ups and I was second row. But there was an open spot in the first row.
So I took it.
On the front line it was me and a lot of teenagers. I begged them to take it easy on me.
They ignored me.
The whistle blew and we were off.
It started fast, but I think I am getting used to this. At some point I will just learn that the youngsters can, in fact, maintain that speed, and I might not ever see them again during the race.
I think I settled in somewhere around 6th place heading into the dirt, which then led to some oddly spaced stairs near the beer garden. As we ran the steps I heard some comments from the crowd. One of which was, “You’re the first person who is old enough to drink beer!”
Honestly, everything was happening so fast, I don’t even know what happened for the first two laps. I know we got off our bikes four times - run up, stairs, barriers, flyover. Ouch.
The first real memory I have from the race is finishing lap two and seeing the lap cards read “4.” I thought to myself, “How is that right? I don’t think I can make it another four laps?”
I thought about quitting, as I always do, but then someone told me I was in 5th place. I had never finished higher than 6th in a Verge Series race. It was my time to shine.
Up front, Nate Morse and Peter Goguen were flying.
Then it was Brendan McCormack, one of the 300 McCormacks that are attending cyclocross races now, leading Curtis White.
I was haunted by Hot Tubes Juniors 20 years ago. And one of them was a McCormack. Go figure.
I was somewhere behind these guys, crying for my Mommy.
Early into lap 3, I saw Nate riding very slowly. Turns out he went down when he hit an unmarked rock that threw him into the only gravel on the course.
When I caught up to him, he said, “Owwwwwwwww. I’ve never been in so much pain. I think I might cry.”
I have to be honest, for a second, only a brief one, I thought, “Maybe I can beat him now.”
I snapped out of it and told him he was fine. “Get back up there,” I said.
Crybaby.
So he took off again and left me fending for my life against Brendan McCormack, Curtis White, and another junior phenom from North Carolina, Chase Dickens.
Look at them, they are everywhere.
To set the current situation, at the end of lap 3, with three laps remaining, it was Juniors in 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 6th. I was in 5th. Barely.
Curtis White had a mechanical.
Brendan McCormack needs to work on his bike-run-bike transitions, so I was able to gap him at the flyover.
Meanwhile, Steven Hopengarten was upholding his reputation as the host of the Party at the Back of the race.
Hi Ryan! Hi Steven!
I spent another 1.5 laps trying not to die. Chase Dickens and I seemed pretty evenly matched and Curtis White kept having mechanicals, dropping back, and then fighting his way back.
How do you do that?
With one lap left, the adrenaline finally appeared to have worn off for Nate and he dropped back through us. He was making weird noises, but I assumed he would be fine.
In retrospect, I was probably thinking about as clearly as a mountaineer at 25,000 feet above sea level.
Not that clear.
Or it could have been the realization that I, for the first time in Verge Series history, had a chance to finish in second place and I would not be letting some blood and tears of a 16 year old get in the way of this dream being realized. Not now. Not never.
Or it could be that I hate my teammate and just want him to fail.
That’s probably not true. Or is it, Nate?
Up ahead, Peter Goguen had held a ridiculous gap over the rest of us, and the win was his.
Slow down, please.
Coming through the last few winding stretches of the course, I sat behind Curtis and Chase. I was fairly certain I would be able to come around the two of them on the pavement, but I had underestimated these little savages in the past, so I really had no idea what to expect.
We would never really find out, though, as Curtis and Chase tangled on the second to last corner in the sand pit. Only Chase went down and I stopped short of a collision with Chase.
We watched Curtis ride away and Chase expressed some unhappiness with Curtis’ chosen line.
I just wanted this all to be over because I was in a considerable amount of pain from being smashed over the head for 50 minutes by 5 juniors, so I had no real reaction to anything.
I led Chase to the pavement and saw that Curtis may have actually been beatable, so I sprinted as hard as my failing legs would allow.
We didn’t catch Curtis, but I managed to hold off the pride of the south.
Photo: Wil Mathews
3rd place. A monument of sorts.
I was the #weenar of the Cat 3s, but let’s be honest. Races within races are for the weak.
They called the wrong names for the 2nd and 3rd placed Cat 3s, who were nowhere to be seen, so I got the podium all to myself.
To some this might be awkward. Not to me.
Would a win on day 2 of the GP Gloucester be possible?
singleWHAT?
After finishing second diddle to Nate Morse in the Cat 3 race, Todd and I took to the course with camera and camcorder for the Elite Men’s race.
As I mentioned earlier, Christian Heule showed up to test out his legs before he flew out to Vegas (where I now sit, writing this post).
Photo: Todd Prekaski
Recently recruited rider, Dylan McNicholas, had every intention of winning this race, and while I sensed disappointment and a hint of concern in his eyes upon learning of Christian’s presence, I also so some excitement at the opportunity to race against one of the World’s elite European riders; Christian was 7th at Worlds last year and is the current, six-time Swiss National Champion.
I told Dylan I would waste my fingers’ energy if he could stay with Christian for the length of the entire race. He only stayed with Christian for about 50 of the 60 minutes, but that’s good enough, I guess. Especially since he rode hard enough to go “completely numb from the neck down,” as he put it.
In all honesty, it was an impressive ride by Dylan and I think he had a lot of people asking themselves if Dylan might actually be able to pull this one off. Especially after he bridged from a chase group, alone, to Christian. And then he took the lead.
Photo: Todd Prekaski
Enough about the stupid Elite race, let’s talk about my first ever SingleSpeed race.
Shortly after the finish of the elite race, I saw Todd kitted back up and working on his bike.
“What the eff?”
“I got peer-pressured into doing the single speed race. And it was only $10.”
I turned to the #weenar of the Elite Race, and, technically, my new teammate, Christian, and asked him to borrow $10.”
“I have to go to the car….”
His voice trailed off as I lost interest in his tall tale so I asked the next victim.
I registered, kitted back up, asked for some gear selection advice, thank you, Bruce Kapsten, zip-tied my shifters and took to the start line in the last row next to David “I have the World fooled into thinking I am actually a nice guy, but I’m actually 70% evil” Wilcox and Todd.
The whistle blew, as it typically does, and we were off. I sliced and diced my way to the top ten, where David Wilcox was pretending to be exhausted from riding for 60 minutes, 10 minutes earlier, with Mark McCormack. Big deal, the guy’s old enough to be a Grandfather.
So, this was the first time I have ever entered a single speed race, and it was weird. One gear? Never feels right.
I had been concerned about it being to hard, but once we hit the back stretch/fire road I was doing about 130 RPMs to maintain some speed.
Jerry Chabot bitched about something back there. What else is new?
As we entered the single track I was in about 5th or 6th place, behind Doug Kennedy, Matt Myette, Mike Rowell, Curtis Boivin and CJ Congrove.
I have made it clear in the past that running is not an option. So this meant I was going to be sprinting at 100% at the entry to every rise on this course to ensure making it over every rise on the bike.
More pics at Russ Cambell’s Site
I think I might have figured something out, because I was catching people. Slowly, but surely. This is something I have never, ever done, in any race of any kind. I typically choose to do the opposite.
Speaking of choosing:
Thank you Tim Johnson and Tosh.0
Long story short, the race continued on and I managed to catch people I have never been able to finish anywhere near…for example, Doug Kennedy here. I watched him disappear into the horizon many a time last season, until he upgraded to a Cat 2 and left me all alone with the youngsters in the B Race.
I can hear you breathing hard, Doug. You should consider getting one of these bikes.
With about two or three laps to go, I finally caught the leader, Matt Myette.
Then it was just me and the open grass, dirt, pavement, and sand.
Sand?
I continued doing my little micro-bursts of 130 RPMs on the faster sections of the course and maintained speed heading into the rises and it seemed to be working.
As a matter of fact, I think I was going so fast I was like a dog with his head out the window on the freeway as I went through the barriers at Mach 3.
The wife will say, “That’s not very flattering, Chan.” And I will say, “Weenar.”
I thought about puking.
I thought about giving up.
But there were too many people counting on me out there. So I did what they needed to carry them into the work. I won.
That’s right. I was the Weenar. First time ever.
To this, my dear friend, peer, and teammate Tim Johnson Twittered:
Haha. Still need to win a B Race, Tim, so not just yet.
I am a little confused about what to do now, since I have reached yet another lofty goal.
Do I try to win with no training? Is training even necessary with these bikes and wheels setups?
Oh wait, what am I talking about? There’s a little ol’ lady looking to steal my thunder soon…I better stay focused to defend the honor of all those with honor.
You can count on me, America. And by me, I mean the Weenar.
Oh, and one more thing, Nate Morse suggested I look at the Race Predictor for the opening weekend of the Verge Series in Vermont this weekend.
cycloWHAT?
I Change My Mind…
…it really is about the bike. For me at least.
When I registered for the B Men’s Race at Quad Cross last weekend it was for a few simple reasons:
1. I enjoy racing my bike.
2. I wanted to see how much better my new Cannondale Super X with Zipp 303s team bike was than last year’s Ridley X Fires (Hint: A lot).
3. I knew LadyHawk was getting her training on at the Paralympic World Championships (1st in the TT/5th in the RR), so I could not sit around all weekend doing nothing…our inevitable meeting was soon to arrive.
LadyHawk.
A few short laps of the course revealed something similar to Adam Myerson’s Northampton Verge race courses. 50% fire road and single track and 50% sweeping, packed grass and tight switchbacks. Fun stuff.
I spent the better part of the morning installing the proper SwissStop Brake Pads and adjusting the brakes to work with the surprisingly wide Zipp 303s. It was easier said than done, but once this was finished the bike I had been enjoying on Mavic Ksyriums became infinitely more fun to ride.
Todd and I did some photography and video work to pass the remaining free time before our race and soon enough we were kitted up with our new teammates, Nate Morse, PJ McQuade, and Mike Sabatini.
I chose to warm up with Nate to see where his head was; to expose any weaknesses.
There were none. He loved his bike. He’s in High School - which we all know is awesome. He’s in good shape. And the Race Predictor had him winning so, according to him, “It was probably going to happen.”
Staging time and Nate and I were lucky enough to get the front row. Sabatini was second row and Todd and PJ were a few rows back.
Sabatiiiiiinnnniiiiii. And Landfried?
With a few minutes until the whistle I heard an accented voice say, “Hello, Chandler, good luck today.”
Christian Heule. “The Peacemaker.” I hoped, for Dylan McNicholas’ and Brian Wilichoski’s sake, he wasn’t here to race the Elite Race, but that would mean he was here to watch our race.
That was probably not the case.
Christian is pretty upset about me having more Twitter followers than he has, so please, to keep him from pouting all the time, give the guy a “follow.”
In the distance, behind Christian, clad in a sweet Zipp Service Course shirt, stood a smirking Stu Thorne. The walls (we were outside, but you know what I mean) began to close in and my heart began to race.
I wasn’t ready for Stu to see my skillz. Oh, he is also upset about having less Twitter followers, so…
I looked to my left and Nate appeared to be sweating on his upper lip. Was this a weakness? Was Nate nervous? Overheating?
I turned my gaze forward again and Stu had approached. What did he want?
“Nate, you only need to worry about one thing today, buddy…finish in front of that guy.” Obviously, he was pointing at me.
All of a sudden, my skinsuit didn’t seem to be fitting very well. It felt tight. I sucked in my gut and tried to pull the Chammy away from my nether region. I was falling apart.
At 150 pounds, I saw how my skinsuit I lent him was “supposed” to fit.
I am going to take Nate to Friendly’s for some Fribbles. Bulk him up.
Nate replied, “Well the Race Predictor has us finishing first and second, so it will probably happen!”
This kid was unbreakable. I had expected the pressure of racing against him to lessen once we were on the same team, but he was clearly still out to murder us all on the course, but in a happy-go-lucky kind of way that was truly psychotic. Making matters worse, he had the reassurance of the Race Predictor behind him.
Race time.
The whistle blew.
Last year, at this race, I went so hard at the start I ended up eventually losing my vision and hitting an obviously marked speed bump on a short section of road that I had ridden 3 times prior.
So this time I would start “slower.”
I watched Nate take an immediate lead and I slipped into about 5th place. 1/4 lap later, the cornering and rolling capabilities of our new team bikes assisted me in moving up to 3rd place.
Up in the lead, Nate kept looking over his shoulder. It looked like he was waiting for me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I thought.
For a brief moment I was embarrassed that my 16 year old teammate was looking back to wait for his poor, slow, old, jealous teammate.
Then I remembered who I am and I rode up to him ditching the guy in second. I needed to draft.
Once with Nate, he proceeded to talk, comfortably, about the current situation.
“We’ve got a huge gap,” he said, “Now all we have to do is not lose it,” pause, “And see who eventually wins!”
“I will probably not win, Nate,” I said loudly enough for only my tires to hear.
Now is the part of the blog where I tell everyone that I sat behind a 16 year old for 3 laps and learned how to race cyclocross. As a teammate, who shall remain unnamed on this blog for eternity, once said, “Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.”
Well, Nate Morse has this figured out, it seems. So much so, that I am convinced he was riding without effort while I struggled to keep up. Not really, Nate, I was coasting the whole time. If you’re reading this, you’re a dead man at the next race.
“Stop going so fast.”
With about three laps to go, our lead over the rest of the field had grown substantially. I suggested to Nate that the proper thing to do would be to attack me, drop me, and defeat me.
His response was, “Now?”
My response was, “Yes.”
His reply was, “Ok, I will after this little barrier.”
And like that, poof, and he was gone.
I mean, I let him go. Kids, you know, they’re fragile. I am here to build self esteem, since I have so much to spare. Take some, Nate, it’s my gift to you. I probably don’t need to mention that he was on Dugast Pipistrellos and I was on Dugast Rhinos. Clearly a rolling resistance issue there.
Nate and I had been the subjects of some heckling throughout the race, to which I usually smile but I am rarely impressed with the creativity.
That is, until after Nate dropped me and I came into the sand section at the top of the course.
I know not the person who heckled with such brilliance, but he had been offering some sarcastic comments whilst Nate and I were riding together…things like, “This isn’t a team time trial,” and “Isn’t that cute, matching kits, Cannondales, and Zipps.”
Then the heckler dropped the hammer of doom on me. As I trudged along, with Nate ahead in the distance the heckler quipped, “Oh no! What happened?! Did you guys break up? Did you catch him cheating on you?!”
For a brief second, this guy had me analyzing my relationship with Nate, looking into our past and asking myself, “Where had it gone wrong? When did it the relationship start to sour?” Then I snapped out of it and realized, “Wait, Chan, you and Nate were never in a relationship; he’s much too young for you.”
Needless to say, Nate won and I was able to hold onto second place.
Do I think our bikes and wheels were of benefit? Yes. How much? A lot.
I will hold off on a full analysis until after this weekend, the Green Mountain Verge Series Weekend, where the equipment will be tested, for the first time, against a full field.
People did noticed the bikes, though. Many drooled over them. Then I happened to stumble upon a conversation between Nate and another Junior on Nate’s Facebook page:
Speak for yourself Nate.
PS - Marty Allen is a new member of the team this year. He started last and he finished 9th. This makes me nervous…His Dad took all the pictures here, as well, so thanks to Marty’s Dad for those.
Sabatini rolled in in 7th place, and recently upgraded teammates Pj McQuade and Big Head Todd finished 25th and 47th respectively.
So this isn’t a 50 page update, I will post my Single Speed WEENAR post shortly, along with an impressive account of Dylan McNicholas’ attempt to beat the six-time Swiss Champ.
