7/3/10: Mike Horgan Hill Climb

This year's hill climb started in Boulder at Canyon/6th St. and headed due west, first up Canyon before a sharp right-hander on to Sugarloaf Rd., ascending several miles of dirt roads before being spit out on to Peak-to-Peak Highway for the final press to Nederland Elementary School. All in, about 15 miles.

Sugarloaf Rd. is a bit insidious. The first part is a 5-mile ascent, averaging around 7.6% gradient. It never gets really steep, but it also never really relents. And, there are no switchbacks, so there is little in the way of reprieve. The road simply goes on and on and on, one false summit to the next. Miles 6-8 are more rolling and can be a great place to catch one's breath before the 3-4 miles of dirt. The dirt isn't super tough, unless you've already blown your legs. In which case, it sucks. The main challenge with the dirt is gritting the teeth during the couple fast descents to (1) stay upright and (2) not get dropped by the group in which you might find yourself. Once the race hits Peak-to-Peak, it's about 10 minutes to the finish line over some rollers and a final gradual climb up to the school.

I felt pretty good heading into this one - physically and mentally. I had come off a strong 9th overall at the Dead Dog Stage Race the weekend before, had recovered well from that effort and felt poised to do well this weekend. I was planning on carrying forward the lesson I learned at Dead Dog, which was to climb within my own limits when the pace heated up too much rather than explode by trying to stick with the leaders "for just a little longer." Horgan is not the race to over-extend yourself too early.

A sizable and strong peloton rolled off the start line and immediately an Aussie National Team member and another rider bolted up the road. Given we would be racing for a little over an hour, the pack was content to let them go. That's not to say the pace was pedestrian as we headed up Canyon. Several riders from different teams laid themselves out for their team leaders to keep the pace fast-but-consistent for the first 15 minutes or so. That we hit the Sugarloaf turn-off in 15 minutes demonstrates just how fast we were motoring. We hit the right-hand turn on to Sugarloaf and the road immediately ramped up, initiating a cacophony of clinks and clanks as everyone shifted out of the big ring and got out of the saddle to propel the bike up the steeper pitch.

The best of the bunch were like wind-up toys, preparing to pounce at any moment. The accelerations started and the pack was quickly whittled down to the final 15 or so. Another attack and I decided to let it go. About 10-11 folks went up the road, but I was confident I would see some of them again. I looked down and saw I was pressing in excess of 320 watts; right where I felt I could be for the duration. True to form, guys started to get shelled off the back of the front group, which was now 5 after catching the initial two escape artists (1 of which stayed with the front group, 1 of which started climbing backwards he was so shot). I climbed right past several riders and finally found myself in a small group with 2 others. We traded pulls, kept the effort smooth for the most part and then one guy dropped off. Right up the road was Kevin Nicol, one of the strongest Cat 1 climbers around. My "buddy" and I caught Kevin, who settled in behind us and (understandably) didn't do any work given he had a teammate up the road. The 3 of us constituted 6th - 8th place.

I was pretty spent when we hit the first crest on Sugarloaf but recovered surprisingly well before we hit the section of dirt. As we rolled onto the dirt, it was my turn to pull through. This is where I made my tactical mistake. Given how I felt, I pressed the pace. Because I felt good, not because I was trying to drop the other 2 guys. In other words, an effort which lacked purpose and focus. As Nicol continued his free ride, the other guy pulled through about a mile later and I found myself in a spot of trouble as he upped the pace. Over the ensuing rollers, I had to let he and Nicol gap me. As we hit Peak-to-Peak Highway, Nicol had dropped back to me, and we were roughly 45 seconds behind the other guy.

In between bouts of kicking myself for my blunder, I tried ignoring the burning in my legs and closing down the gap. I've developed a bit of a rapport with Nicol this season (my first racing against him), which is why I believe at this point he started taking pulls. First, he realized we were not going to catch his teammate (who ended up 5th) and second I'd like to believe he was trying to help me (and himself) gain a chance at 6th place, which was just up the road. Try as we might, we could only pull to within 30 seconds of 6th. With about 3/4-mile to go, Nicol attacked me. I had nothing left in my legs, so I shouted "Go, go, go!" in the hopes he might be able to bridge up to the guy in 6th. He stalled about 10-15 seconds in front of me, so I dug even deeper the final few hundred meters and tried to claw him back.

End result, 8th in 1:09:36. 6 seconds out of 7th and 30 seconds out of 6th. My best time on this course by well over 3 minutes. Can't be disappointed in that. The body's responding better to the accelerations as I continue to learn how to race in the Pro/1/2 ranks. Now, a 3-week break until the double-whammy of Mt. Evans on Saturday, 7/24 and SMK Memorial on Sunday the 25th.

Ride Safe,
Nate

6/27-28/10: Dead Dog Classic Stage Race

Laramie, Wyoming is a rural cow town which is home to the main U of WY campus. In fact, the tallest building in all of Wyoming is the 13-story dorm tower on campus. While not much happens in greater Wyoming, Laramie does play host to a two-day, three-stage cycling race, billed as the FIAC National Stage Race Championships - the Dead Dog Classic.

As with any stage race, lowest cumulative time after the 3 stages wins.
Saturday, Stage 1: 86-mile road race
Sunday at noon, Stage 2: 50min criterium
Sunday mid-afternoon, Stage 3: 10-mile ITT

Stage 1: 86-mile road race

This race started about 45min outside of Laramie in Albany, Wyoming at 8,400-feet. The Pro/1/2 field was relatively small this year at 32 entrants (all the fields were a bit small this year, actually), but with teams such as Garmin, Fly V-Australia, Jelly Belly and Team Type 1 and Kenda represented, we sure weren't short on talent. This was going to be a tough race end-to-end.

Over the first 10 miles, we lost about 1,000ft in elevation before rolling along another 9-ish miles to bring us to the first of two climbs to 11,000ft. The course itself is challenging enough; the constantly blowing winds increase the difficulty a few fold. In fact, nearly one-third of the Pro/1/2 field would abandon the race in the opening handful of miles. Which brings us to the start of the race.

Starting on a fairly fast downhill in an 86-mile RR, one would think the start would be somewhat mellow. Not! The whistle blew and the pack accelerated like we were shot out of a cannon. After the initial 1km descent, the road flattens out and becomes exposed to the whipping winds of the surrounding prairies. In this case, we were fighting a crosswind, from our left. I immediately found myself at the back of the strung out echelon, fighting for a wheel and gaining no respite from the wind. Panic set in as I pondered whether we were racing 86 miles or 8.6. Quickly, I determined that if I didn't move up, and fast, that I would get shot off the back and my race for the GC would be over literally before it began. Giving it everything I had, I pressed myself forward and into the top 5-10 riders. Had no idea what was occurring behind me; all I could focus on was forcing myself into the cross-the-road echelon, gaining some protection from the wind and staying put. A couple riders escaped up the road, but when we turned left and headed directly into the 30-40mph winds the pace didn't relent one bit. For another 5 miles or so, the hammer stayed down.

Just as I'm questioning the sanity of it all, the pace drops like a lead ball. Like a power outage, everything shuts down and settles in. "Thank f**king GOD!" I think to myself. Chatter between riders begins. I find myself next to Lachlan Morton, an 18-year old Aussie riding for Garmin. I raced against Morton as a 4 and then again as a 3, before he hit the rocket boosters and took off. Funny enough, he remembered racing against me those 2 seasons, and I told him it was great to see the hockey stick progression of his riding.

We hit the town of Centennial, where the first climb to 11,000ft begins in relative earnest. While there were some half-hearted attacks the whole way up the 9-mile climb and then across the 7-mile "shelf" up at 11,000ft, the pace was controlled enough despite the aggression. A group about 15 strong began the 7-mile descent to the 180-degree turn around down at 8,400ft. I hit the turnaround toward the back of the echelon, a tactical mistake on my part. Once we turned around, the afterburners were lit and the top riders immediately created a gap. With 43 miles left to go, I needed to ride hard but at my own pace. Pushing 300 watts that high in elevation, I knew some of the folks in front of me would soon pop off the back. Before too long, a front group of 5 was established and I settled in to a chasing group of 10. The subsequent 14 miles of climbing and rollers took it's toll on my legs; as long as the pace stayed consistent, I would be OK. If anyone decided to throw in an hot acceleration, I knew I would have to let it go. Luckily, everyone was content to keep things together.

As we descended the first 9-mile climb, I looked down to see 63mph. Fun!!! We were flying. When we hit the valley again and the flats, we had the benefit of a cross-/tailwind. A paceline immediately formed and as I faded back, the 2 guys in front of me allowed a gap to open to the other 7 riders. I've never chased so hard in my life. I was spinning at 130-140rpm and 40+mph, and barely closing the gap. I couldn't believe that my chances of finishing in the top 10 were disappearing up the road. The 2 guys with me popped off my wheel and I realized if I didn't bury myself right then, I might as well give up. I put my head down and didn't look up until I found myself latching on to the back of the 7-man group. I vowed to stick with them to the end.

We essentially worked together until we hit the final climb to the finish line. I pulled through right at the "1km to go" sign and then things shut down. Nobody else came through; nobody wanted to be on the front heading into a headwind and up a climb. For a split second, I considered attacking right then; in retrospect, I should have gone for it. Instead, I kept looking over my left shoulder and then my right for the next 700m. Finally, I said screw it and jumped. I didn't expect to drop everyone, but I was tired of waiting for someone to finally attack. I crossed the line in 10th, on even time with the guys in 6th - 9th, with the guys in 11th and 12th losing a handful of seconds.

All in all, a great race.

Stage 2: 50-minute Crit

I had no idea how I would feel when I awoke on Sunday. But, like last year, I felt pretty darn good. Doing all the recovery protocols - chugging water, supplements, eating something right before bed to help the muscles repair, sleeping with the legs elevated and so on - appeared to have done the trick. As I spun easily to warm up before the crit, I noted how light the legs felt. Racing a crit is quite different than an easy spin, so I'd know soon enough just how good or poorly the legs actually were. The good news is that everyone was in the same boat. We were all tired from the previous day's effort. Given the crit didn't start until 1:20, Mahting and I were able to sleep in and chow down on a big breakfast.

The crit was largely uneventful, a quick pace but very clean on a non-technical 0.7-mile course. I stayed out of trouble in the front of the group, spending quite a bit of time on the front of the race, much to my own chagrin. The guys I was sandwiched between on GC continually attacked; I didn't feel like I could assume anyone else would chase them down so I took it upon myself to protect my own GC position. Now that I was situated in the top 10, I didn't want to fall out of it.

After a sub-par performance the previous day, Mahting rebounded and was looking very strong. At the end in the drag race for the line, he would finish second in the sprint by a hair's breadth. Great job, Mahting! That boy has access to some explosive power, I must say. I crossed the line in the main group. The legs were torched from all of the attack-covering I did. I cursed myself as I wondered exactly how I planned to put in a solid TT. I could barely turn the pedals over as I spun easy for 5min after the crit.

Time would tell . . .

Stage 3 - 10-mile TT

Mahting and I had to high-tail it to the crit start, about 20min away from the crit. We had exactly an hour before he started his ITT; mine would start roughly 6min later.

The course was laid out outside Laramie at around 8,700ft. 5 miles slightly downnhill, 180-degree turn, 5 miles back slightly uphill. Of course, the wind would be right in our faces on the return uphill trip. The legs didn't feel quite as fresh as they did in the crit, but I wasn't worried. I would either have it or I wouldn't. As I warmed up, the first time up a short hill my legs were complete lead. Oops. But, the subsequent time up that climb, they felt better; then they opened up the third time up the climb and I felt things would be OK.

We started 30sec apart, in reverse GC order, so I was the 10th-from-last rider out of the start house. 'Start House' being a strip of duct tape across the road. At last year's race, I started out too fast and paid for it dearly on the return trip uphill and into the headwind. This year, I started out stupid slow so I would have plenty of juice left for the final uphill 5 miles.

I hit the turnaround feeling pretty fresh and plenty strong. I got out of the saddle and punched it up the first climb. Good sensations in the legs. I was hitting this TT perfectly, so whatever the final outcome I could not be disappointed. I was passed by one guy who started behind me, who had a great, great TT. I also passed 3 guys who started in front of me. I crossed the line in 22:35, a full minute faster than last year. Smiling despite the fatigue, I forgot the pain as I started to run the calculations in my head to see where I might have ended up on GC.

9th overall, about 18sec out of 8th and 46sec out of 7th. As we drove to the race Friday night, I decided that top 15-20 would be a very solid race and top 10 would be excellent. My stretch goal reached, the 2.5hr ride home passed quickly.

All in all, a challenging but mostly fun weekend of racing. Certainly, I would not call the 86-mile road race 'fun.' It was brutal and extremely hard. The crit was challenging as well, but my legs responded well. The TT was easier than anticipated and a positive experience. Here's to next year's race!

Ride safe,
Nate