I’m not a big fan of crits, but I’ve watched Wente for a few years and came away with the feeling that if there was such a thing as a perfect squirrel race it would be this one at the outskirts of Livermore. The course is about 1.2 miles long, perfectly flat, with excellent pavement, and smooth corners. There’s also the notion that one should at least try to work on weaknesses – to that effect I promised myself a real crit every once in a while. Wente also fell into place because the road race was full by the time I decided to sign up for it. The crit however had quite a few spots open.
Cat5s are the very bottom of the racing ladder, the part that scrapes the dirt below everyone else’s tires. I guess it’s supposed to be some sort of weird motivation to get people to move up as quickly as possible. Wente did not disappoint: a 7:30am start, 3 places, no cash, no prizes, and no primes. Compare that to the Cat 4 Women or the Juniors – yes, they get CASH, 6 places, and a nicer starting time. I must admit that the Juniors had a fantastic and very exciting race!
We started off with a pretty full pack, heading West into the wind which was blowing about 8-10mph. I figured that the wind would discourage any successful breaks. A few times someone would jump and make it 30 yards in front of the pack. Then they’d dangle for a while and fall back. We were destined for a pack finish and my strategy was to come around the last corner on the final lap somewhere in 8th to 10th place. The finish is on a wide road and can easily take six or more riders across. It’s also pretty far from that last corner and you’re going into the wind. Normally, being in the top three is advisable, but here it seemed like a good way to go nowhere. I duly noted that most riders around me probably weighed 15 to 30 lbs more than me, had huge legs (for 5s), and were probably stronger. I would have to suck wheel until the very end and hope for the best.
The first lap was squirrely with most riders trying to figure out the corners and even the straightaway before the finish line became chaotic for a short period of time. Imagine five or six wobbling bowling pins travelling at 25 or so mph. A bit later a dog runs right into the front of the field. Fortunately the road is wide and some of us see it coming, but the little mutt still gets nailed and a couple of riders go down. A few people stop, the pack rolls on at a moderate pace. It’s time to take a deep breath and wonder what we’re doing here. The dog runs off and I’m thinking about the owner. I figure they both have a brain the size of a walnut and keep riding…
The pack gets in a groove, the corners get smoother, and I practice my best Pufferfish whenever someone encroaches. This is actually fun! The pace picks up when the lap card turns to ‘2’ and I’m trying to tuck in. The speed is a bit above comfort zone, but manageable. A guy to my front left gets squeezed into a curb and locks up his front brake. His rear wheel lifts a foot and a half off the pavement, but comes back down. The last corner is in sight and my visions of glory fade as I round it in the middle of the pack. The sprint is chaotic since there are many riders with similar physical ability. I get a serious case of tunnel vision and roll across in 22nd place for the 2nd time in a couple of weeks. I guess my success is still measured by the big three: stay upright, finish, and don’t finish last…
Elmar
