We (the Cornell/Chris' Cookies cycling conglomerate) rolled in pretty late on Friday night, where we camped off the Marcy Dam access road just prior to the ADK Loj. Since I really haven't been back to the High Peaks since I left Clarkson, I forgot how much I miss hiking and camping there. But no...no time for that-we're here to race bikes!
After a huge breakfast at the Lake Placid Brewing Company and some bike porn at High Peaks Cyclery, we headed out the Wilmington for a 12:30 start. In reality, there was no reason to browse bikes at High Peaks since there were triathletes everywhere, previewing the course for the ironman which was this past weekend. I've never seen such a density of high priced bikes under so many goofy looking riders. I've also never seen such little regard for such high price bikes. Imagine several Cervelo P3c's left unwatched outside of practically any store where one can fill water bottles and buy snacks. Anyway...
The race consisted of a 6-7 mile jaunt out to the main loop, which we would do several times (I don't remember how many) before returning and climbing to the finish located a couple miles up the toll road. 72 miles total. Naturally, I should have looked at the climb before the race, but I didn't.
The 1/2/3 race was pretty small with only 25 starters, but there were a couple Canadian wild cards and a lone Fiordifrutta rider, Cory Burns. From the start it was obvious that he was not going anywhere off the front of the race. Any move on his part was instantly covered...wearing that jersey earns you quite a bit of respect from the field, but must be a pain to deal with.
The main loop was gently rolling, save one punchy climb through the feed zone. If any separations were going to occur, it would certainly be there. Luckily our group was well represented, with myself, Steve, Cameron, and Jake. While we're not quite CSC, we were hoping to have some minor control over the race...or at least settle to not chase each other down. Unfortunately, our strength was cut by 25% when Steve got off the bike to piss. An attack soon followed, and he found himself on a 50 mile time trial. We tried to get to the front to slow the field, but that didn't work very well. I suppose a real team may have dropped to pace him back to the field, but then we may very well have had a 4 person 50 mile team time trial. Oh well.
The race stayed together for the most part, with a couple small attacks going off, and actually gaining some ground. The desire to chase was decidedly lacking, but the time gaps seemed reasonable enough to pull back in the final miles, as long as they didn't grow. More than a few times we found ourselves at the front to accelerate the pace when it slowed significantly. None of us made any real moves, but we definitely did quite a bit of time with our faces in the wind and the stinging, intermittent rain. Given the speed on the flats and especially on the climb, the breaks weren't going anywhere.
This played out for several laps, and we reeled in the final solo breakaway with probably 10 miles to go. As we crested the climb through the feed zone, we were guided off the loop and back towards the Whiteface toll road. The race had officially started...all the rest was a warm-up (not really).
We came flying back into Wilmington on a road that was largely flat and downhill. Those not so confident in their climbing skills (or those overly confident) fired small attacks off the front, hoping to open a gap before the turn to the final climb. I'm not too sure what happened in that stretch of road, but I'm pretty sure all of them came back. It's possible the Canadian rider who won shot off in the flurry of attacks. Cory Burns put in a ton of digs, but clearly he was the last person the field would let go. As I shook out my legs on a small downhill section, Cory remarked, "Yeah, I hear ya." We talked for a bit as I tried to glean as much information about the climb from him. He described it well, warning me to ride my own pace and not get sucked into early efforts, doomed to fail. As we made the right turn onto the toll road, we wished each other good luck and dropped onto our little rings.
The Whiteface climb starts out very gently; I was honestly expecting something a little steeper. I didn't picture it very well from Cory's description- I openly queried whether this was the final climb or just a lead-in. The silence around me confirmed that it was indeed the final climb. In retrospect, I think they just thought I was being an asshole. No, I was being genuine. The road stretched out straight in front at a small, but tiring grade.
At this point, the field shattered as the climbers grouped near the front and others went into survival mode. I was hurting, but kept an eye on the front. I knew Steven Pingree was strong- he placed just behind me at GMSR, and had been beating me all spring in ECCC races. Also at the front was Nicholas Bruno, who beat me at Housatonic Hills in the cat4 race and placed 13th in the p/1/2 at Housatonic the week before. And then there was Cameron, not that I was racing against him. I knew we'd all make it hurt. The Canadian guy held a small gap to our group of 4.
Up ahead I spied a sign that read 1km...YES! Only a couple more minutes of suffering left! Somewhere around here, Cameron just barely slipped off the back of our group. I think he was still adjusting to not having a triple crankset and couldn't spin his insanely fast cadence. I was just following wheels, not processing the fact that the Canadian guy was going to ride away untouched. Not that I could do anything about it anyway, haha.
As we came to the 200m sign, I debated making an early charge to the line, but I still couldn't see the finish. The road curved left, and the trees successfully obscured the tent and timing equipment. The road was also noticeably steeper than before. With probably 150m, I jumped on the left, pulling around Nick and drawing Steven out on the right. My move was strong enough to get a little room, but perhaps a little too early. I also should have taken up another gear somewhere, because I was chugging a bit and couldn't match Pingree's acceleration when he finally pulled past at the line. 3rd place! Not too bad- two podiums in two weekends. Photographic evidence suggests that I could have won the sprint if I had been in the drops!
Looking naturally resplendent with my moustache.