Cold Wet Epic…
Back in racing days every year I liked to do an honorary ride or event in the spirit of the Paris Roubaix. (I like to read about nifty event routes/formats that people have known. If you know of some, share em!) Once I did a Boulder, CO, training race that was on half dirt road, half paved. -A good ‘PR’ event. Everywhere should have one. (Has anyone else seen such a format?)
Every spring the Ann Arbor Velo Club hosts a series of weekend training crits. One was on the day of the PR. I was fully intent on doing my ‘rite of spring’ and the day didn’t look like it would let me down. It was 40 degrees and pouring rain. I couldn’t really believe I was doing it. It was kinda *extreme*. But I gleefully dressed and rode to the race. I love to dress exactly right for difficult times and this time I was right on. Full gloves, hat, ear muffs, booties, double bottom, triple top. Not hot or cold, just wet.
I couldn’t believe the crowd of racers there. ‘You people are tough SOBs,’ I thought to myself. At the start all these young suburban bike racers were out there being poured on by the worst freezing rain. Steady sheets. I was *intentionally* going for Bad Weather just for the insane solidarity, but some of those guys out there looked like it would be fine with them if it poured ice every race. I liked that look. A Belgian look perhaps? —Some of the toughest do come from the Belgian immigrant part of Detroit (sponsored by the Cadieux Cafe). A lot of the gang would be racing *a lot* that year—and looked it in their proud wet jerseys, riding around like it didn’t make any difference. They were in the scene and part of the circus for the count. People don’t realize just how much bike racers simply eat up adversity and dozens of races no matter what–c’mon, give it yer best shot! Is that all you can do?! (They yell at God and dare him, I think.) I gaped at them in admiration. I was just a one-shot visitor. One even had bare arms and legs! Some had bare fingertips. –But I knew all those types would be goners.
Anyway, 50 of us Cat3s took off and the fun began. It was a total hammerfest from the start! I was astonished. All these seemingly normal Detroit type people were jammin full-on to the corners, no braking. I grinned like a maniac and squeezed right in there, shoulder to shoulder. I was a bit scared at first, but then thought ‘if you’re going to do it, so will I!’ and just pushed right on thru the envelope of safety. We crossed em up going round those corners like we were on ice then jammed full-on the big ring. You couldn’t see a thing! Being so close in with everyone it was just like riding in a…car wash! Hard to breath! I felt like screaming. It was exhilirating. Tires squirming everywhere. 10 of us got away and started lapping. Nerve and trust was the key and I’m pretty sure most of us stayed up. I saw a lobster red legs guy abandoning as we flashed past. It was great fun tipping my head sideways and down to see outta the one corner of my eye as I blew and snorted to open the various passages for partial breathing. It was insane! But the others weren’t quitting! So I said ‘I’m with ya bro’s!” It was thin-lipped intense and hilarious at the same time the whole time. I realized that I could stay up thru about anything if I paid attention to how I was sitting, kept the power full-on and stayed in the drops. (It was like powder skiing: maintain your own center of balance, keep em pointed down and things can be dealt with.) Who cares if you’re flush against someone sliding thru a turn? You’ll both be fine if you keep the power on. (Hey, that’s like dirtbiking, too.) Anyway, I got 75 yds away on the backside of the bell lap in an attempt to not have a truly insane finish thru the big downhill turn, but got passed by some speedsters on the finish uphill. I just laughed in wonderment. What a fine day.
The riders in this event impressed me with their verve, nerve and willingness to consider this just another day of bike racing. At the start they stood and circled around like nothing was amiss. They were good lads, someone might say.
Hardly anyone I spoke to knew that PR was going on that very day nor did it seem to make any difference to them—ah, modern education.
JP
