Copper Crit - 08/19/07

After feeling quite crispy after the Salida RR, I figured it would be a craps shoot for the Copper crit. But, given it was my last race of the season, there would be no holding back, regardless of how I felt. I erred on the side of going too short and easy with the training, opting to go into Copper a little rusty but rested rather than trying to find some sort of top-level fitness. All-in-all, things shook out pretty well.

The course was intense. At an altitude above 9,000 feet, ‘sucking wind’ would take on new meaning. The 0.6-mile loop wound through Copper’s ski village area, with a couple of climbs, a section of cobbles, narrowing by metal barriers, twists-and-turns, a moderate descent and a short uphill sprint to the finish after a final 90-degree turn. That’s a lot to pack in in 0.6 miles! We were turning 2-minute laps, and so would cover the course roughly 30 times during the hour-long race.

It began to piss on us a bit as the late-morning clouds rolled in. I love to race in adverse conditions. However, I was thankful the rain quickly abated and held off for the duration of our race. The cobbled section would have been treacherous had the rain continued to come down. As it was, I had a poor start position and was at the very back partway into the first lap. Which was fine. I needed to gain my bearings on the course before worrying about my positioning. The legs felt fine; I wasn’t going to get shot off the back.

That first lap I thought that moving up would be challenging given the chaotic nature of the course. In fact, the energy of the pack would constantly ebb and flow. As it probably should in any well-contested crit, but the constant speed changes seemed to be more evident in this particular race. Coming through the start/finish line, the course narrowed as it hit the cobbles, which caused racers to fight to move up for favorable positioning, as did some of the tighter corners.

At the end of the first lap, I remember thinking, “Man, someone’s gonna pull an Abdujaparov when we hit the barriers and cobbles.” This was a reference to his all out sprint in, if I remember correctly, the ’94 Tour when he floored it down the right side of the course. Head down, he drifted too close to the barriers and hit an inflatable Coke can. Laid himself totally out at 40mph. As we hit the narrowed section of the course, right in front of me, it happened. All of a sudden, I see this bike above a rider! They guy clipped a barrier which caused him to flip end-over-end. He took down 2-3 other riders as well. I slammed on the brakes to miss the fracas, and got caught off the back. I was safe but my momentum was killed. And not just mine. Several other riders were held up, too.

My next thought? “My race is over.” But the flow of adrenaline is what probably saved my race. “Fuck this,” I thought. I spent the next 2 laps flooring it and making my way right up to the front. I hit the front surprisingly quickly, felt good and decided to keep going. I knew MixOne would be tough given our heated battle for the BAT title, so didn’t expect to get away. But, it was early, we were at high altitude and the race still had 50+ minutes to go. Stranger things have happened.

Derek Hutton from MixOne marked me, refused to work with me (understandably so) and so our lead was tenuous at best. After a lap, I decided to sit up and reintegrate. The team’s goal was to set up one of our sprinters for a shot at victory, so I did my best to stay on the front and chase down any dangerous breaks. The front of the race was not necessarily less sketchy than the back of the race. Some assholes (the same assholes) repeatedly dove the tight corners. I was nearly taken out several times and riders directly in front of me were also nearly taken out. This type of danger is avoidable and inexcusable.

Nothing of note happened until the final couple laps of the race. That’s when things really heated up. With 2 laps to go, I found myself next to Diran, with Malt-o-Meal right behind. They both appeared to be racing strong, so I asked Diran how I could best help them. Diran stated he wanted me to floor it the last time down the backside descent and through the final corners before the uphill finish. Easy enough.

As we hit that descent for the last time, I made an aggressive move up the right hand side of the road and hit the gas. I shot to the front, but did not risk a glance over my shoulder. Either Diran and/or Tim would be on my wheel or they wouldn’t be. Unfortunately, as I shot right, Diran shot left. Tim, however, picked Marcel’s (MixOne) wheel, so appeared to be well-positioned for the finale. I hit the final corners on the front and came out of my saddle for the final uphill push. For a fleeting moment, I thought, “Wow, I might win this!” Silly boy that I am.

With about 25 meters to go, riders started to come around me. My job was done but I fought to the line and crossed in 7th. For me, in a crit with a sprint finish, that’s a solid finish. No complaints by me. Tim crossed in 2nd. Marcel from MixOne ended up winning the race. Turns out Tim had been forced off his line by some guy taking the final curve to quickly and who ended up in the gravel. And Diran got boxed in by the mad rush to the final corner. Had either been in a position to catch my wheel, my guess is that they would have won the race. We placed 5 of our 6 riders in the top 20 with the sixth coming in 24th - Tim, 2nd; me, 7th; Diran, 12th; Andrew, 15th; Jeremy, 16th; and Greg, 24th. Too bad you only score your top 3 finishers in the BAT competition!

When all is said and done, it’s been a great, successful season both on a personal and team level. In our first season of fielding a full 3s squad, we’ll be ending up 1st or 2nd in the BAT competition and we’ll have 2 riders in the top 5 of the BAR competition. Not bad considering we did not turn our attention to the BAT run until halfway through the season and we never focused on the BAR competition.

Now, it’s time for a well-deserved and much needed break. Gonna enjoy getting a little soft over the next month before turning my attention to 2008. I expect there to be some very specific individual and team goals for next year. You know what they say: “If you’re not the lead dog, the scenery never changes.”

Ride safe,
Nate

Levi, Levi, Levi . . . - 08/01/07

So, Levi almost made me eat my words about him never winning a grand tour. That final TT was an incredible effort. I found myself rooting for him, hoping he would somehow find the strength, power and speed to climb up the podium. I applauded his results. Maybe Levi did have the killer instinct necessary to win the Tour.

But, then he totally killed the fantasy in the post-TT interview. His goal, it appears, was to win the stage and nothing more. He stated that once Dirk Demol told him he was easily going to win the stage and that he was killing it through each time check, that he realized he could be conservative through the remaining roundabouts and turns.

In other words, he started to ride safe.

Now, there is nothing wrong with riding safe when you are protecting, say, first place overall or a podium spot from those behind you who have no hope of catching you unless you come completely unglued or don't finish. But Levi was in neither enviable position. He raced to win the stage, not the Tour de France. His conservativism in the closing kilometers quite probably cost him 2nd place overall. The rate at which he had been pulling back time on Cadel Evans meant he would overtake the Aussie before the finish line. Instead, Cadel took a second back on Levi in the final Ks.

So, I stand by my declaration. Levi will never win a grand tour. He's not a killer or an attacker. You need to be both to win cycling's greatest races.