GS Walter Mitty

I wondered if there'd be any heathens out there yesterday morning on the group ride. There were. About 40 or so, I'd say. There's usually 50-70, so this was a pretty good one. I also think some folks skipped out because they put away their leg warmers, and it was a little chilly.

It was a good, strong group, and the pace was moving along pretty well as I came upon the group. After (geesh, it is really?) 15 years or so of this ride, today I finally gave up on riding through all the neighborhoods, stop signs and stop lights to get to the start. One of the reasons we moved out here was so I didn't have to ride IN to town to ride. Over the last few weeks I've grown more and more frustrated with the 14mph, braking, surging, clogging the roads, stopping every 1/3 mile, all just to get to the roads where the ride starts in earnest, which is basically right in front of my house...Anyway, I rode around out this way until the usualish time the group would come by our road, and then jumped in.

Pretty strong headwind going out, but there were 3 or 4 guys keeping it moving in those first few miles. They were dropped once the live ammo was loaded, but at least we weren't rolling 12mph into the headwind. One of them was even getting frustrated that nobody was working. If I remember, I'll try to explain to him that there is no "right" amount of work if one is getting dropped when the ride starts for real.

About 10 miles of the quick pace stuff into the new route for the Sunday ride and things had sorted out to a lead group of 12. I was there. And this isn't even fiction.

I even attacked. Oh, it was a futile effort, but I made it look good. Too bad, though, that while I was making the effort that I was more worried about what my line looked like as I battled the strong crosswind. It is so hard to find shelter when you are off the front solo (warming up for quadrant II, Enak).

The only hiccup on the ride was when the group blew through one particular stop sign while a car was waiting. It is only worth mentioning because on this ride, most of the folks are actually good about staying confined to one lane and being largely courteous at stop signs. It did get in my head, though, and I sat up in frustration. I looked back to see that Daveed had not only stopped, but dismounted. I rolled slowly for (what seemed like) awhile, but when I didn't seen him get on his bike in a hurry, I chased. And blew. But then Daveed came by me and talked me into chasing. I dutifully guarded his back wheel.

Over the next 8 miles 13 kilometers there are 5 hills that give me trouble. The first we dealt with ok because I jumped on Daveed's back and carried my bike cyclocross style. I had a little trouble on the next hill, but we were down to 10 riders at that point, so I think the pace was taking a toll on most. No killer attacks there.

Almost immediately came "Hilltop", which doesn't really need " " since that's actually the name of the road. the lead group busted up a bit, but I was in there. It weren't pretty, at all, but I was there. Kinda.

I was gapped with 3 others. With the next hill coming at us in less than a mile two kilomters, we put in a hard chase. The thing is, the riders ahead of us were ahead of us because they were all better than us, so actually catching them was, um, hard.

But we did catch them at the bottom of hill #4. My chasing buddies stayed on while I watched them go. I wasn't letting them go by any stretch. I'm sure it wasn't a pretty sight, but I was trying to get oxygen in me through any pore and opening while squeezing out some, any, forward momentum, but the gap opened up anyway.

After cresting the top of that I went into chase mode. At that point the race was me bridging to the winning break. The finish line (there is an actual finish line on this ride) was 6 miles 10K away at that point.

Soloing from the disentegrated pack, and without teammates, I begin working my way up to the winning break. With only miles kilometers to go, there's no time to waste in letting this be dramatic. "Bring it back, now!"

I can see the group ahead. There are a few riders working together, but the rest are sitting on because they know I'm coming, and when I get there, they want to be strong enough to be close enough to see what it is like when The Real Deal comes flying by. The gap continues to come down.

The road comes to a "T" intersection. The course turns left. I have to hesitate because two riders are coming from the right. They see the leaders up ahead and sprint after them. Now there are 13 in front of me, but the immediate threat is the cheating interlopers. I must catch them. And I do. And when I do, I don't sit on and catch my breath. I don't ask them to work with me. No. I attack. The wake of my turbulence causes them to crash into the ditch, which is fortunate for them because had they latched on to my wheel, it would have been a long, painful and tortuous ride. "Perhaps they will thank me later," I think to myself.

The gap to the leaders is still coming down. The bottom of hill #5 is pretty much under water, so I have to tip toe my way through it, lest I get spotted stains on my white team kit. That would be uncooth for the victory presentation on a race like this. A car passes through, which forces me to wait, but it also gives me a chance to motorpace uphill.

Crossing the railroad tracks at the top of the hill, I see that the gap to the leaders has actually grown. "Damn that car!", I think. "Why couldn't I have paced off of a faster car? A Porche Boxter isn't much of anything, really."

With events approaching 'situation critical', I push the "Pro" button on my SRM. "I'm sorry to do so, but it is time the leaders felt the reality of, um, reality".

So now they are in front of me, and all I want to do is finish lapping them to complete the domination. I have two miles three kilometers to finish the deed. The television helicopter has already left because it isnt' good tv or good for the sport to show one person LAPPING the leaders on a 45 mile 73K race course. The crowd left long ago with the result a forgone conclusion. The extent of my domination is so thorough that the letter from USAC has already been drafted. In it, they ask me to stop racing for the good of the sport.

But I'm not going to stop.

With .62 miles 1K to go, it sinks in to me. If I do catch these leaders, I'm going to discourage people from trying hard. If they show up on these rides at all, they'll be riding in fear and just watching me. I'm doing my part to help the sport by allowing the riders in front of me to maintain some semblance of victory. They don't need to know I sat up and let them finish ahead of me. The victory and awards on this type of ride are the same whether I catch and lap them or roll in behind.

As I approached the finish line, I put my hands back on the bars, took me feet from behind my head and clipped back into the pedals. There's no need to go ahead and finish my victory salute. They already know.