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Written by Adam Craig
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Tuesday, 11 September 2007 |
 The World Champs. A funny weekend. Everyone is racing for one day’s glory, which will then be spread over the course of the next twelve months. You’ve been thinking about it all season and preparing for all of recent memory for one event. And that’s the magic of it all, everyone has their game face on, as best they can. Unfortunately, I don’t even have a game face. Carl might though… I think he wears it in rally car races.
Every year I win a small battle of some type at worlds instead of actually accomplishing what I’ve set out to do, that being riding fast. Two years ago it was knowing that I was 5th when I flatted. Last year it was breaking a component at the start but still turning top 5 lap times and clawing up to 17th. But, more importantly, I felt like I know I can at those two worlds, bad luck is easy to swallow when you are strong and have done your homework anyway. This year the personal victory was small, and a bit of a stretch, but hey, it’s gotta get me through another winter, right?
This year we had a new kind of group success, which was a long time coming, and good to be a part of. The Team Relay is an interesting event, one each of elite, U23 and junior males and one elite female take on a lap each of the course. Usually each team sends it’s Elite or U23 guy out first to light things up and build team morale for the closing legs, where the lady can hopefully hold off the guys chasing her down. We instead went for the inverse, slowest to fastest. (no offense, Georgia, you hauled ass) Ms. Gould came through after the first lap dead last, about 4 minutes down. Our junior, Ethan Gilmour, laid down a solid second lap, catching the lone chick out on that round. Sam Schultz took over for the third and rode damn fast, high-fiving me in the exchange area in 7th place. I knew there were a couple of girls in front of me, and Cedric Ravanel, France’s elite male took off at the same time. We charged up the climb, me eventually gapping him over the top and doing my best BMX impression on the newly contstructed downhill. (A moment here to juxtapose the new and old “Witch’s Trail” XC course. The old one was raw and awesome mountain biking. The new one is a glorified bike path/BMX track hybrid. One line, berm after berm. Fun to ride, frustrating to race on due to lack of passing and lack of character challenges.) I first caught a Russian, followed for a few, eventually overtook. Then I caught the British lady. Same, follow for a bit, overtake. The last few women were a bit easier to get by. About 1k from the finish, someone shouted that I was about to get a bronze medal. Sweet. We used the come from behind tactic to get third, only a minute off the win. Our boy Sam had the fastest 3rd lap and I had the fastest 4th, and overall, lap. Looks like we’re set up, now we just need to keep the gang together for next year. Which is impossible due to Sam and Ethan graduating their respective age groups. Ah, we’ll make it happen somehow.
Sometimes roommates at national team events are able to establish a good bond that boosts them through the week of hanging out and carries on into the competition itself. Kelli ended up rooming with Lea Davison, who immediately proposed a trip to the Isle of Mull on one of the down days. Kelli and Carl signed up while I stayed home to “rest” or whatever… Their bond was forged over the course of an afternoon including a massive Kebab/burrito lunch, ferry boat ride, castle and coastline exploring by bike and finding their way home. Fortunately, the roommates had a common interest in the Elite Women’s race as well, that being starting last and passing as many girls as possible. They linked up at the start and rode forward all day, finishing 25th and 26th after starting in the 70’s… The little Russian girl, Irina Kalentieva, took the stripes. This being Lea’s first Elite worlds, maybe she’ll be that little girl someday.
Speaking of starting at the back, Carl and Barry actually got to watch the race start on the jumbotron from their perch in the 90’s, then they counted to ten, then started. Unfortunately, the camera panned away just as I slipped my pedal on the second row and blew my good position before even getting rolling. Lagging legs took me up the first climb in the 30’s and the course’s lack of passing snowballed my lacsidasical approach. By the second lap I was moving, but not in the usual charging style I’m accustomed to. It took Christoph Sauser coming out of the pits on my wheel starting the 3rd lap to get me motivated. I’d been feeling bad about making fun of his home life a while back (as quoted, in print) so I figured I’d try to help him get back in the mix and hopefully get myself in there as a bonus. Turns out, after turning the fastest third lap time of everyone, I dropped Sauser off at the back of the top 10 group and promptly grenaded. Whoops. Falling back to 22nd over the last three laps wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do, but at least I got to ride with cyclocross legend Sven Nys until he dropped me. The jumbotron duo (also West End Hotel roommates) of Barry and Carl had interesting days. Carl’s mid-race assessment birthed his goal to finish 69th, something he knew he’d have to fight a battle of wits to accomplish… Carl’s a clever guy though, and played his cards exactly right to come in the magic number. Well played. Barry somehow turned his shift lever into a scalpel during a low speed crash and opened a wound in his knee of impressive stature. It required 5 STAPLES after he finished the race on it. Oh yeah, on my last time up the climb, I saw the lead moto followed by the French skinsuit of Julien Abalon tucking down the final descent for the win. Four in a row. Impressive. My perpetual barometer, Florian Vogel, was third. See, I knew I could do it… Someday…
Till then, we woke up at 5am this morning and are currently burning a long layover in the Manchester airport business lounge (eating peanuts and cheese) on our way to Slovenia for the World Cup Finals. We’ll see how it goes, Elke says it’s like Quebec…
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