Race Report

New England Crit Week, Rolling up the Boulder Again

(WIP , again, to give this some headway time- it’s a very fast and busy week, and with #exeterclassic tonight ain’t nobody waiting for all of the pictures to appear before posting)

Let's talk about this picture:

Thank you soooo much Katie Busick. I could write a novel about how everything is perfect in this shot and how difficult it is to create it

Thank you soooo much Katie Busick. I could write a novel about how everything is perfect in this shot and how difficult it is to create it

The hardest bit about bike racing are the tangible takeaways. All day you can talk about the negative effects of training, the high barrier to entry and the brutal crashes. It's not fun, and as an athletic hobby it's not for everyone. Even if you're cool with all of that, it's still important to sit with yourself and recognize why do you like lining up every race. There are a lot of intrinsic benefits to racing bikes, and the ones that keep me coming back are:

-the thrill of the (calculated) risk

-pushing the limit

-sharing that with others

As great as all of those are, they're intangible. I'd stop risking my body on two square inches of rubber if I could perfectly crystallize that mood, - that's at least one benefit of writing about how races unfold. That and pictures, especially because watching a race as a spectator is difficult. It's in a large part why I scrounge the digital world for bike racing pictures, and half of why I put up with social media

I've been coming to Fitchburg every year since 2015. I had no idea about its storied past in American Bike Racing History - to me, what mattered most was I living back home at my first real job and I had a little extra money to pay for this slightly-more-expensive race. It was still soon enough after college that I was figuring out how to have a social life— so I sent a group message to all of my collegiate racing buddies (the other benefit of social media!) saying we should all meet in Fitchburg that day

That rainy Sunday, some friends came only to watch, three of us raced in the semi-amateur field, I finished behind some kid with an insulin pump, we ate pizza at Espresso's and I gave away the rest of the homemade brownies to the spectators in the beer garden

The race is hard. It takes place on a hill, with the start/finish line about four-fifths the way up, leading into a hairpin that turns downhill. After about a thousand feet of accelerating descends, there's a gentle S- bend that is perfect to take at high speed. The bottom of the hill comes to flat wide road that runs for another thousand feet before pinching into two tight uphill turns. The road then widens up again as it goes forward twelve hundred feet up false flats and uphills to the finish (and then you do it again!)

Overall, it makes for a difficult course. Half because every inch punishes you for even thinking about slowing down and killing momentum. The other half because the roads are so wide, shrinking and widening to the final two normal-width corners throws off packs of racers. You can armchair theorize how to perfectly ride this, but remember this is the semi-amateur field: if everyone could execute as well as they imagined, we'd all win and solve cancer, politics and climate change in the same afternoon

National Criterium Champion Emma White, leading the women’s Pro Race. If someone’s going to all of that, she’s our best bet. Photo by Katie Busick

National Criterium Champion Emma White, leading the women’s Pro Race. If someone’s going to all of that, she’s our best bet. Photo by Katie Busick

Afterward that 2015 race, like after almost every race, someone would ask me how my first time at Fitchburg went. I didn't know yet how to articulate or value my experience beyond saying what place I got. It was never "first" and it wasn't this time, so people would shrug and change the topic. But that was a shiny new memory of friends and bikes, and it was enough to want to come back next year

Every year I've had a different reason to specifically line up at Fitchburg, and also gotten an interesting memory

2015, before: Just want to see the collegiate cycling homies!

First and only time hopping over a falling racer at speed (this is dumb you and should never attempt do this)

Think Taylor and I are the original collegiate homies that have showed up every year

Think Taylor and I are the original collegiate homies that have showed up every year

2016, before: Thought that after ten years of racing meant I "deserved" a win! (so patently false)

Too timid after a head crash the day before and realizing I should work with a coach if I ever wanted that win

Forever that guy jamming to the music

Forever that guy jamming to the music

2017:Willing to do anything and everything to get over a break up!

After doing this once halfway through the race, did it one more time for the final lap and crashed out the two racers tailing me

2018: Might as well use this sweet fitness I've built up while waiting for jobs to get back to me!

Best personal finish and FINALLY figured out how to ride every inch of the course efficiently and smoothly!

This one’s 2017, because apparently I avoided the camera in 2018. Photo by Jeff Cote

This one’s 2017, because apparently I avoided the camera in 2018. Photo by Jeff Cote

Took a long time to be honest with myself that the real reason I showed up every year was to race my bike as hard as possible and enjoy a beer with friends on outside while watching the pros go at it. How many other places can you do that!? Beverly and Haverhill, which are ALSO my favorite races! (why yes I have a lot of favorite races thanks for asking)

For this year, 2019, I had a couple more fun reasons to line up; new coach and I agreed this was my last major chunk of target road races before focusing on cyclocross and not-bike life; having the largest semi-amateur team presence in the largest field for the day; after spending years talking about this race to friends and having that being the impetus to wear Sunapee Flames and race bikes; and New England Crit Week

Just kidding, I wanted to race my bike as hard as possible and enjoy a beer with friends outside while watching the pros go at it

Seriously though, after a first season of having a significant number of teammates, we could actually do team things! Team talks! Team warm ups! Team tactics! Most of us haven't raced with more than a couple of teammates, so proper strategies were relatively new to us. This spring we tried some very specific plans with little outcome, so for this big race we agreed to "be ready" at two laps to go and try to string it out "at the right time." Apparently that was an exciting enough of a plan that Comrade_Zcientizt, having already raced in the amateur field, wanted to double-up in the semi-amateur field with us

Sound vague? It is in part because no good plan survives first contact with the enemy, and the enemy in this case is not getting dropped from the pack or crashing. A good plan covers and plans for every contingency. A _great_ plan has target primary and secondary goals, and capable people that improvise. Which is basically what I quick highlighted to Comrade_SweetSkills as all seventy racers lined up

Interestingly enough, Comrade_Sweet_Skills was the insulin pump kid I finished right behind back in 2015. Sometimes it's a wonderful small world

Whistle goes and we're racing. And racing. And racing. We hit a couple of speed personal records for the first few laps, and the pace settles a bit. These days semi-amateurs are more fit and have the internet to study up on race craft. It's no excuse for instincts or handling skills, but you could pick up some basics: everyone knew to coast the uphill hairpin and avoid brakes at the bottom. Today, it was clear that everyone's general plan was a similar sort of, "stay calm until later"

If you've never ridden in a criterium, there are a lot of great written accounts of what the experience is like. In a sentence, you can imagine it as a mosh pit concert with more harmony and a hell of a lot more confusion. And it's still physical exertion bit, so it's also painful and harder to focus. At the semi-amateur level, the overall skill level is enough at the basics to handle things when it's easy but it's not a guarantee of how racers will react to sudden shifts

Another day I'll expand more on what all of this means and a play by play of how a race plays out, but today this story and the team talk was all about "being ready" at two laps to go

And it's going well! There are some typical nerves that I get with racing, and I had extra because of so many teammates to be worried about. We're grown-ups - we signed up for worst, but nobody actually wants the worst to happen. Yet Comrade_Sweet_Skills, Comrade_Skimeister, Comrade_HuezLikeHup and Comrade_Zcientizt are all riding smooth and away from other troublesome riders. For a vague plan, it was looking nice

A little too nice though. The entire field is starting to look antsy. Nobody feels completely confident enough to drive a break off the front, and everyone feels too fresh. Riders start getting twitchy. A couple start yelling at each other as the front of field widens and we cram against into one broad strip. Comrade_SweetSkills draws next to me at the flat run and asks, "WHAT'S THE PLAN"

"THE PLAN IS-"

Wait

After these bottom two corners the lap counter will read two to go

Never before in a race have I had this many teammates. Who knows when I would have many again near the end of a race

"THE PLAN IS TO BE READY NOW. WE'RE GETTING YOU TO THE FRONT"

Comrade_SweetSkills moves in behind as the field funnels into the first corner, going from fifteen wide to ten. After spending the whole race relaxing on this section, I start ramping it up and we float up the street, moving past the back half of the field as it pinches from ten to five wide. Manage to maintain enough speed out of the last corner and the pack goes from five to three wide. Forty riders up I can see two teammates sitting near the front: at the most ready spot while doing the least amount of work

Start/finish line is about a half mile up still. It'll read two to go. Everyone will be in full fight or flight mode then

"STILL THERE"

"KRAMER, GO"

Moving up along a fast pack within the slipstream is simple enough. Towing a teammate at the fastest speed possible while not dropping them is an art: Comrade_SweetSkills has been racing about as long as I have, and it’s almost rehearsed as we do it . At one hundred feet to the line we're nearly at the front as everyone is strung out single file all along the stretch

Ten riders from the front I can see it's Comrade_Skimeister and Comrade_HuezLikeHup sitting staggered in fourth and sixth wheel. Perfect. I nudged a spot in the line to make space for Comrade_SweetSkills in eighth position. So many teammates, and they're exactly where they need to be

"KRAMER I'M GOOD"

The front couple of riders slow a bit, and without looking you could feel the rest of the field starting to come around. behind. In another moment we'll get swarmed and lose any advantage from moving up so far

Lap counter in the distance flickers from red hexideicmal three to two

"KRAMER I'M GOOD"

There's a bit more panic the second time Comrade_SweetSkills says this: he can sense what I’m thinking, he's trying to tell me to not do it

I'm aware. I'm also aware that as the biggest team here, five out of seventy was the best odds of winning for the day. Four out of seventy will be good enough

Thirty feet to the start/finish line and I move in front and for the first time all day I drive the pace. If someone has a picture of me here grinning and waving fingers for "two to go," I'd really appreciate it

At the start/finish line it's two to go and everyone starts panicking as for the first time all day we keep accelerating into the hairpin. This is new to everyone, and they don't know quite how to respond. I can sense a few racers jump in behind on my wheel as I keep speeding up the hill

"KRAMER GO"

No idea who's saying this. It’s thankfully not my teammates: they’re sitting smart and waiting for any suckers to jump with me. As for the random shouting, it's a common tactic to shout encouragement at someone in front of you in hopes of panicking them off their gameplan into doing extra work

Too bad that was the plan. Strava shows we're pedaling hard and it’s the fastest we've gone all day up and around the hairpin. Instead of coasting, I keep flicking through gears to find the best one to sprint on, and bobble my balance while standing on the pedals on top of Fitchburg

"KRAMER GO"

My favorite bit about this picture is Katie literally finds that perfect moment in my fifth Fitchburg race where I find the gear that feels right, seat myself back down and yell back to seventy screaming racers "BUCKLE UP" as we punch it into the downhill

Thanks again so much for this shot, Katie Busick. Sorry, Little_Jam, looks like you were first sucker there

Thanks again so much for this shot, Katie Busick. Sorry, Little_Jam, looks like you were first sucker there

Best Fitchburg memory ever

Then ten seconds pass and my legs finally give way after seventy seconds of bringing my teammate to the best position and I have to peel off

And then the field fills the road width. Again. Most positions are reshuffled but three Sunapee teammates manage to maintain the good position in the field. At this point I'm really done. Heart rate had spiked as high as I could allow it, and my body was screaming that was enough

Good news is so’s everyone else: We go by the lap counter for the final lap and half of the field is cross-eyed and too gassed to focus properly for the last two minutes of racing left

The front forty racers bomb the descent and then there’s the worst kind of screaming, the one of pain and breaking bikes. Apparently a clumsy racer leads into the first uphill corner and loses control: I'll see him later sitting on a stretcher with his forehead sliced open and fitted for a neck brace. Unfortunately Comrade_Skimeister gets hit in the chaos and also crashes. Comrade_Zcientizt ends up riding into the back end of the chaos and goes down: thankfully they both get back up. Comrade_SweetSkills loses a couple positions avoiding the carnage and a few more as he contests the finish sprint. He's had a lot of Fitchburg races and a lot of good results, and he ends up getting his best Fitchburg result for the day

For me, no results. Again

Check up on teammates to make sure they’re good. Nobody needs a hospital and nothing’s broken. Perfect

I drag as many of them as I can plus some more to the beer garden on course and buy them all a round as thanks for coming out. For some of them, that’s their first Fitchburg memory: Hope it was a good one

Katie Busick is probably so confused that there’s no pictures of me with some tongue out- sorry, #necritweek is serious business

Katie Busick is probably so confused that there’s no pictures of me with some tongue out- sorry, #necritweek is serious business

That One Time I Was Paid To Race My Bike

(this ride and report for Rasputitsa is about two weeks late and old. almost threw this one away, but #KEVIN from New England Devo asked me to finish this, which as desired #content puts this as a better than average website I guess???)

(thanks for the encouragement, #KEVIN . we should do this event together next time)

There are a couple of factors involved to inspire me to write about bike racing:

-The “epic-ness” involved, the good and the bad

-How unique the experience was. Which is getting harder to feel after doing *checks notes* two hundred and forty-ish race starts

-The Value Added to me

Photos are also an important factor, but in narcissistic age of social media, that’s kind of a given. Photo by Mark Washburn

Photos are also an important factor, but in narcissistic age of social media, that’s kind of a given. Photo by Mark Washburn

Last point is a special word I use a lot in my bike life and professional life. It’s what comes after all of the diligence and technical attention to detail is done to make something worthwhile and special to someone. Professionally, it’s basically a quality Customer Support and Attention attitude. In bike life, it’s… basically a quality Customer Attention experience. If I want answers or a physically rewarding experience, there’s Google and free workouts to utilize. To justify the business value of my job, it’s important that want me specifically to help them. To justify paying for a bike race entry, I want to make certain I get something from specifically attending that event. The minimal justification for a bike race entry is groups of people to race against, a recorded result and whether do I feel like competing hard enough to earn the post-race beer

Sprinter_Krampus highlights it nicely in his piece here, on the nature of training and lining up to race to challenge yourself . Challenging your physical self is the absolute best feeling. I get from weight lifting, rock climbing, hiking, even simple yoga poses. They’re all ways of feeling the edge of my physical and mental limits. None of that though compares to pining on a race number and lining up against the clock and others. I’ve done it enough that it’s almost second nature and routine, and it’s so easy to get excited as race day approaches

Which is half the reason why I was willing to wake up at four AM to drive three hours in the rain to the top of a Vermont mountain in the literally freezing rain to ride a gravel ride, for free

Me trying to be clever and preriding my guess of the course one week beforehand. This is sixty degrees in mid-April

Me trying to be clever and preriding my guess of the course one week beforehand. This is sixty degrees in mid-April

Every January the New England Bike Racing Association (NEBRA) invites race promoters and bike advocates for a day-long summit meeting. It’s advertised as an open forum to help cultivate the bike racing season for riders everywhere. In reality, it tends to turn into a shouting match between grown men having a *checks notes for actual quote*, “promoter dick-swinging contest” as everyone gets agitated about how high costs are and how few riders there are every year. An example of this is the churn rate: The percentage of new riders in the total pool of racers is sixty. The average number of years a bike racer stays in the sport is three years. Those are awful numbers to build a sports community and grow activity involvement. To highlight, here’s the Live Tweet Thread Judge_Upgrade_Plz asked me to type up the meeting minuets at this year’s summit

In an effort to make the discourse more productive this year, Judge_Upgrade_Plz invited Happy_And_Mocha to this year’s summit. Happy_And_Mocha are a unique fixture in New England, because most event promoters:

-Are USA Cycling Certified* races

-Have at most four hundred racers

-Maybe profit a couple thousand dollars. Easily can lose the same amount, depending on the weather or calendar conflicts

Whereas Happy_And_Mocha have:

-A non-USA Cycling Certified* event

-Has grown to over a thousand riders

-Can’t even imagine their budget but they talk about donating twenty thousand dollars to charity after expenses

*anyone that’s wondering what’s the point of being USA Cycling Certified, it basically the national governing body that officiates competition to build the pipeline of elite bike racing, nationally and internationally

Wrote a separate Live Tweet Thread about their part of this year’s summit. There’s a lot of volatile feelings associated with Happy_And_Mocha coming to NEBRA Summit. It absolutely pains me that two bright and cheerful individuals who- by all understandable means have enough going on that they don’t need more stress- had a difficult reception coming to what’s effectively an Old Boy’s Club. New England’s bike race promoters have been doing things the same way for a very long time; at best any change could be a lot of work, and at worst it’d be taking risks they can’t afford. Happy_And_Mocha both knew it was going to be that way, and as a gesture of good faith they offered everyone in the room a free entry fee into their event. Being paid to race my bike? Makes for a good second half of a reason to go. As far as I know, I was the only one in the room that ended up taking up on that offer

I mean, how bad could it be?

Believe this style of picture is called “Bike Racer Dress Up”

Believe this style of picture is called “Bike Racer Dress Up”

Had a lot of fun prepping for Rasputitsa. I’m no stranger to riding hard and bad weather, but a gravel ride is different in the sense of variable terrain surfaces and minimal pack riding. A bike race can be really dependent on drafting and team tactics and neutral support. A gravel ride is basically survival on two wheels and whatever the event promoter throws at you: You’re on your own for finding the fun and challenge. So, for me it was getting to pick tire and clothing choices to slog. Did a reconnaissance ride slash finding adventure on Off-Fridays the week before on 38mm tires. The dry conditions and frozen ground was fast- thought I’d then chance to go narrow on 31mm tires, adding bike handling experience to add speed and risk flatting. Reasoning was even with rising temps and rain, the frozen ground would hold and this would basically be a fast ride against the weather.

I’m no stranger to racing in bad weather, but these are all new factors I get to fiddle and work with. That novelty alone made taking that free entry very satisfying to me

You can watch the elevation gain/loss and grade percentages to realize this is what the promoter can “throw at you”

You can watch the elevation gain/loss and grade percentages to realize this is what the promoter can “throw at you”

 Weather being a factor at Rasputitsa 2019 turned out to be a large understatement. With an hour to go to the start, the parking lot was getting pelted with hail and rain. At the start line, it was maybe forty degrees- high likelihood that the weather could change to snow. The permafrost beneath the dirt roads was still frozen enough that everything was sliding off the road and raising the river level. Ever noticed how it get’s cold when you move by a river in the woods? That was everywhere on course, which created pockets of cold air whenever the road dipped down

It’s nearly May, but anyone that lives north of Massachusetts knows the weather in New England does whatever it wants, seasons and sensibility be dammed. At least this made clothing selection easy: One foul weather jacket, one set of fleece long bibs, winter boots and gloves. Also broke open six chemical warmers for my hands, feet and hips, and wore nylon gloves underneath my riding gloves

Me feeling very not-clever. This is thirty-five degrees with rain/hail/snow in Late April. Photo by Katie Busick

Me feeling very not-clever. This is thirty-five degrees with rain/hail/snow in Late April. Photo by Katie Busick

 I still can’t tell if any of that made a difference. The rain got everywhere, the roads were so steep for 36x28 gearing, and the cold was bad. We’re talking about a hundred racers quitting halfway through and getting driven back to the start kinds of cold. Of course that’s on them for not dressing properly- but it’s just bike racing. Within reason, it’s fine to push yourself to the edge of your comfort level to perform

There’s strangely little to say about the race itself to make it a narrative. Frankly speaking, the weather and course conditions made me focus so hard I want to sell that kind of laser precision to my defense contractor job. It makes it a bit hard to remember and recap for a usual race report. Some relevant race highlights and numbers were:

-Skipping over potholes and slick dirt at forty miles per hour, basically making my tire choice of going fast and narrow insane. This is fast enough that cars had a hard time keeping up

-Climbed over four thousand feet, one of which included a section averaging four percent for six miles. Finishing climb was one mile and eight percent grade. This is steep enough cars had a hard time going up

-We climbed so high the rain turned to full-fledged snow

-On immediately finishing I went straight to my car to strip off the wet layers, dry off and inhale a beer simply because it was calories I could replenish off of. Which I needed about two thousand of, after racing for 2.5 hours in New England ‘spring’ weather

That’s all I really have to say about the race itself. Got my epic ride challenge, unique experience and satisfying post-race beer. Simple, like every other race. Ten outta ten, would do a-gain You can tell that this post is a lot less about the race and way more about the future of the sport: how to get more people involved and excited to race bikes

Was too tired to consider what kind of picture trope this was, but it felt right to take it post-race

Was too tired to consider what kind of picture trope this was, but it felt right to take it post-race

What’s really amazing to me about Rasputitsa is so many people willingly came to race bikes. I went by myself and came across lots of friends during and after the race. So many other people as well. I’m sure most of them don’t line up for fifty races a year like me, or muse poetic about the implications of sports community and physical challenge (if you do, hit me uuuuup at @bensanrides , lets talk bikes) There were people riding from Manhattan that have never been to Vermont, and afterwards they were so excited talking about how thrilling it was being out in the weather and next year they were going to prepare doing X Y and Z. To me, that’s more impressive than getting the European Champion of Cyclocross to line up

Nobody’s making these people exercise in bad weather. Maybe they’re chasing that feeling of challenging yourself. Maybe it’s for completely different reasons. In the end, it’s their choice to engage in this same activity that has so few people that puts them in a special place in my heart

What I’m trying to say, is thank you, Happy_and_Mocha. Rasputitsa is a very good example of in getting more people excited about bikes that I’m looking forward to applying. This was both a great first time event for me, and a national race that gets people excited about bikes. Puts everyone on the same team: I’m glad we’re here together

I am paying Katie Busick for every tongue-sticking out picture she catches of me. It’s the little details that make life satisfying

I am paying Katie Busick for every tongue-sticking out picture she catches of me. It’s the little details that make life satisfying