Das Tour De Frankenmuth
Frankenmuth, MI
Saturday, May 23, 2009
; "Image")
I awoke before the alarm I had set for 5:30am. The dawn was rising, the birds were squawking and the skies were clear – a beautiful start to my first race day of 2009. I inhaled my pre-race “super” oatmeal breakfast, loaded up the car, and started the hour or so drive north to the German community of Frankenmuth, “Michigan’s Little Bavaria.” The drive north was rather uneventful so early on a weekend morn, just listened to some loud music to get myself ready. As I drove closer and closer to “The Muth”, I couldn’t help but notice darker clouds on the horizon. I called a friend, who at I knew would be at the event early, and sure enough he said “it’s raining!?” How could this be, I just left clear skies and bright sunshine. I had expected to work on my tan!.
; "Image")
I entered the car park at Zehnders Restaurant who annually serves over 628,000 pounds of cabbage – interesting fact, eh? The lot was made up of a bunch of roadies cowering under the tailgate of their (or friends) truck, while scrambling for arm-warmers and booties. The drizzle continued up to race start time at 8:15, and made waiting for the start, in the coral, a very annoying experience. Now, the promoter had held the event open longer than perhaps he should, and according to some guideline, of which I’m not 100% sure whether it was USA Cycling, or local, but the seventy three registrants could not start together, but must start separately, split by two minutes, and the results would count as one – crazy! At registration, just like everyone else, I could see the value of being in the second group, with a carrot hanging two minutes ahead. But, alas, I was in the first group and would be the carrot. The groups rolled out in the rain and headed west into the countryside and eventually north and onto dry roads? Apparently, it was only raining at the start? Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for the second group to catch the first and so a large peloton rolled through the farm fields. The friend I had called earlier, Jason, had started in the second group, and now we rode together and chatted. I offered to work for him and break the wind, and so the two of us cruised along enjoying the experience. Generally, for most of the race, there were few hi-lights. A couple attempts to escape, but the boys up front let nothing escape for long. Someone’s tubular exploded, and scared the heck out of everyone, but wasn’t until about ten miles to go when everything happened all at once, and fortunately, I was in the right place, at the right time.
; "Image")
We were sitting on the left edge of the group, slightly ahead of the mid-point, and I could see the peloton shift to the left side of the road for some reason, nothing on the road, no pot hole, no animal carcass, just a wandering few riders. As the group shifted to the opposite side of the road, a few wheels touched and BAM a whole bunch of guys hit the ground. I could see the lean occur, and then the slapping of flesh and crunching of carbon on the rough road surface, right in front of me. I was very fortunate to be on the outside of the group, and gingerly moved on to the grass between the last piece of carnage and a sif foot deep drainage ditch. I saw the front group pick up speed as the separation occurred, and so I sprinted to catch up. While doing so, I looked back and watch I bike fly into Jason and knock him down onto the grass. With a split in the group and ten miles to go, the thirty or so riders worked well to maintain our advantage, but soon, as we rode back into town the jockeying for position became everyone’s M.O. I knew I had to remain on the left side of the peloton to maintain an advantage in the closing stretch and the last left hand turn. As we hit the final bend I was in the top ten or so riders. Last year I sprinted to early, so I knew I had to watch my positioning. Not racing on the road very often I have no idea who is a sprinter, or whose wheel I should follow, so I had to make my best guess as we hit the finishing straight. As the burn hit my quads, and the wind blew through what remaining hair I have, I weaved my way up to fourth place over the line. Not bad, pretty happy with my tactical placement. This gave me 14th when the results were combined. I hung around the finish awaiting Jason’s arrival. He rolled in at a sprint with four or so riders from the same team, so they worked him over pretty good. Grass stains and a bloodied shin as a reward for a hard days work at “The Muth”.
Micheal
Set as favorite
Bookmark
Email This
Hits: 109
Comments (0)
Write comment
Show/Hide comment form