Course: two 37-mile laps, the first half being flat, the second half going up a gradual ascent. The “climb” was 4.6 miles at an average of 2% – in other words: not hard. And while it contained some ramps of 5-7%, the ramps were too short, and the headwind too strong, that the field would never split on the climb. A super-fast descent followed, and then there were five miles of flat tarmac to the finish. Coming into Stage 2, everyone agreed: it would most likely end in a field sprint.
The Early Break: Usually, it’s a suicide move. A desperate attempt by anyone but the favorites to break away early and get a head start on the peloton. 99 times out of 100, it fails – but tell a bike racer that they have a 1% chance of winning, and they’ll try 100% of the time.
The Race: We rolled out of the High School parking lot in tight formation, keeping the speed low as we were ‘neutral’ for the first mile (The start of a big road race is often deemed the ‘neutral zone’. A race official drives at a slow, 15-20 mph pace, ahead of the riders, and no one is allowed to pass until the flag is dropped, usually about one or two miles down the road. There, the neutral zone ends, and the racing begins.)
Within five miles, the early break was formed. It had begun as two riders who, on their own, would have almost no chance of staying away in a 75-mile stage. But a few more riders bridged across, and eventually 10 riders who formed the early break. I knew that a group that size had a much better chance (>1%) of staying away to the finish, and all of a sudden I was nervous. If any GC favorites were in the move, they could gain some serious time. But after chatting with my teammates, I breathed a sigh of relief – CS Velo had two riders in the move (during the race, we actually thought that we only had one rider in the move. I guess we lost track of Dakota, but we found out afterwards that he had snuck into the break along with Will!) Having Will and Dakota in the break meant that the rest of us could sit back, relax, and not have to worry about doing any chasing. As a bonus, we had a front-row seat to the Nate Brown Show: A One-man World Tour Team Takes on The World – or maybe he was just doing threshold intervals on the front. Hard to tell.
The first lap went by fast, but the field was relaxed, a little bit too relaxed. After 35 miles, we got our first time gap: “10 riders at 4 minutes!” Uh oh. The field panicked – with four minutes, the stage win could be gone, and the GC too. If there’s no organized chase, we might never see the breakaway again.
Low and behold, at the start of lap two, the field began to chase in earnest. If the break was going to stay away, they were really going to have to earn it. As we hit the “climb” for the final time, the pace was hard but steady, and soon we could see the break, just a minute up the road. At 15 k to go, the time gap was 45 seconds; this was going to be close.
At 2 k to go the break had less than 30 seconds. I thought about making a late attack – blasting out of the field and trying to grab a few seconds – but two big crashes that sent bikes and riders flying quickly dissuaded me. The break stayed away by just 15 seconds, and my teammate from Team California, Camden, even won the field sprint for 9th (two riders were dropped from the break on the final climb). I rolled across the finish line at the back of the field, happy to still have all my skin.
My teammates placed 7th and 8th out of the break, a great result for the team, and even better when we realized that CS Velo was the only team with two riders in the winning break. I had barely known them for 48 hours, but I was already incredibly proud and happy for my teammates; they’ve worked so hard all season looking for a big result, and after making the winning break, they were willing to risk it all for the win. It didn’t work out, but that’s bike racing. And most importantly, they couldn’t wipe the smile off of their faces; they had fun.
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Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/1812809743