"Sometimes my friends, the gods are smiling on us."
-George Costanza, pretend marine biologist

I had been working to improve my climbing ability for the Tour of the Hilltowns race. I had raced Hilltowns the previous summer and it was without question the hardest thing I've ever done physically. In fact, a simple email to my friends about it evolved into a story 15 pages long, mostly about the pain and suffering that comes with biking up what were to me at the time very steep hills. But despite the intense pain, I was willing to give it another try to see if I could improve on my 20th place finish there. So I lost weight and drove out to Mt. Wachusett to do hill repeats every week for a couple of months prior to the race. A week before the race was to happen it was cancelled due to a lack of volunteers, which was a real disappointment as I felt I was going to do well. My friend Shappy was doing the Green Mountain Stage Race and teased me about being afraid of it. "What are you afraid of, failure?" he would ask, and I'd respond, "Yeah of course, and the intense pain. No way." But now with all my training going for naught I considered it. I checked out the GMSR website and seeing that almost all 210 of the Cat 4 spots were filled, I had no time to think about it, and impulsively registered. I was almost the last rider to sign up for the race. They split it into 2 groups of 105 based on age, the cutoff being 34.

Stage one: The first race was the prologue on Friday afternoon in Waitsfield, Vermont. It was a simple 8 mile climb up the easier side of Appalachian Gap, with an average grade over 10% for the final 4 kms. The weather was sunny and about 70 degrees, just beautiful. The first couple of miles were controlled (no racing) as we paraded through Waitsfield. Right before the turn toward the Gap, I thought I had flatted as my wheel wobbled and wobbled! I put my hand up for the SRAM car and told the people around me I had to pull off. But then it seemed to roll normally and the guy next to me said it looked fine. Turns out my tire had gotten caught in a frost heave in the road. Whew!

Not much to say about this race tactically speaking, since it was just a short, hard climb. We took a very easy pace all the way up to the start of the serious climbing, and then the fun began. Before long I was third wheel with Brad Ek (NHCC) setting a solid pace up front. Not too hard but it wasn’t going to get any easier. At the 1 KM to go sign I took a look back to see that 5 of us had gapped a strung out field. With about 500 meters to go, someone attacked us from the back. This was my first look at Aaron Wolf. I jumped out of the saddle and caught onto him. He kept going and going, and his pace was killing me. He looked back again, ala Lance, and then he attacked again. I waited for the others to go but when I looked behind, there was no one there. I pedaled over the line. A great job by Aaron.

Prologue route

I went into the GMSR saying I wanted a top 20, but I had had a dream the previous week that I finished 20th in the prologue and was kinda upset; really, I was hoping for a top 10 after all the Wachusett repeats and dieting, etc. This result exceeded even those hopes, and I was elated. I got to stand on a podium for the first time. When I called Peter with the news I think he was even happier than I was, and was convinced I had a chance to do well in the GC. I had 49 GC points.

Later in the staging field I was getting some warming cream from Conor, who had just finished racing and had returned to his car with Justin and their 2 dogs, Ailee and ?. Suddenly, the dogs bolted across the field chasing each other like something out of Born Free. Conor and Justin went running after them so fast the guys around said they should join track as they vanished across the field. I passed out the Gels and PowerBars Peter and Chip had given me to various people on the team. Then I went back to the Mad River Barn to clean up. Later that night I drove out to recon the course for Saturday's race and on the way back I spotted Conor on his bike, still looking for them. It was getting dark and cold. I went off to give their cell numbers onto the guard of the crafts fair tent back in the field, and also to the GMSR race officials, who gave me the number of the dog warden which I passed onto Justin’s girlfriend. Turns out Conor and Justin sat in the car till 1:30 in the morning when the dogs finally returned from their Green Mountain adventure to the car, "like they always do". The creatures are lucky to have such owners.

Brad, Aaron, Gary

Stage 2: The Circuit Race went off around 8:30 Saturday morning. The weather people were predicting hurricane Ernesto would hit the area sometime today. Luckily the rain stayed away, though it was not even 60 degrees at the start. Arm warmers and that Atomic balm stuff I got from Conor is went I went with and it was about perfect.

Not much to say about this race since it was a typical Cat 4 road race: go around in circles for 53 miles avoiding crashes and then make a mad sprint at the end. There were KOM and Sprint points available, but after the prologue result, I was more interested in a good finish here for the GC points. Nevertheless, the sprint point was the finish line so I used the two sprints to get a sense of how to finish the race. I went from the left side the first time and the right side the second time. One thing I learned from this race is that the right side of the road isn’t bad at all. Sometimes the area widens nicely and you can zoom up to the front. Working backwards in my head from the finish, I thought I should be working hard to stay in the top 5 with about 5 miles to go because the yellow line rule would make it very difficult to move up with 90 riders on the road. When the final sprint came I jumped on a train going by on the right, and zoomed past Chris Shaw who went for it a bit too soon for the win. My first real win EVER, and the 25 bonus points meant I would get a yellow jersey! I couldn’t wait to tell Peter. I got 125 GC points for this race, for a total of 174. By chance, Ultrasport posted a cool video of the finish here:

http://ultrasport.tv/

However, after crossing the finish line I continued on with the other riders up the road to the staging area and my car. About 5 miles up the road an official’s car came up and I was told I should report back to the finish line area for the podium. I made it just in time as the other 2 guys were about to get off the podium, and they let me up. But this whole podium deal led to some trouble for me later. Late that night some guys at the Inn were looking at the results online and noticed I had been given a 15 point GC penalty. You gotta be kidding me, for what? My lead was now 2 points instead of 17 and I went to sleep thinking about it. Yellow line? Public urination? I was working on appeals in my head for both while I tried to fall asleep.

Stage 3: The Mad River Road Race is the hardest stage of the race, and everyone says it’s the most important stage because the race splits up so much due to the difficult climbs, meaning the points would be spread out more than in the other stages. Hence it was important to do well in this stage to have a chance at the final podium.

The race was 65 miles long with several significant climbs, finishing up the hard side of Appalachian Gap. The worst part was the weather, which was absolutely miserable as the hurricane finally pulled in one hour before before the start. It was pouring and 54 degrees. Imagine riding in this! Though I grew up playing in Minnesota winters, I’m now a cold weather wimp and really don’t like getting wet on a bike when it’s cold. I would not have shown up to this race were it a single day event, that's for sure. I drove to the staging area and the first thing I did was go into the lodge to find out about the penalty, but there were people everywhere in there and I could only find Marta who could not tell me what it was about. She took my number down and said I had officially protested. I would have to deal with it later.

We line up in the mud and soon we're off, following the pace car down from the lodge and descending for several miles, meaning it was extra chilly. Then we turned and headed west into the wind. The rain kept coming though it was not pouring anymore. Several riders came up to congratulate me on the jersey and chat as we leisurely rode out and I learned some of their names. After suffering several days with the same people you kinda become friends. The sprint points spot for the stage was at the 16 mile mark, and I hung out in the pack since I was not contending for this competition, but I considered sprinting to warm up. The sprint came and went and as we moved on the wind got worse. It was the worst time I have spent on a bike, ever. I was completely soaked. My arms were shaking uncontrollably putting a shimmy into my handlebars. Some guys had wisely worn clear jackets that allowed their numbers to be shown but I hadn't and was paying for it. I have never wished for a climb to start so badly before so that I would warm up.

At about the 20 mile mark we took a right and headed for Middlebury gap, a gradual 6 mile long climb, with the final 4 kms averaging 7%. The KOM (king of the mountain) points spot was at the top of this climb near Middlebury College. Turning onto this road was like entering Eden. The wind died down to almost nothing and it seemed like it wasn’t raining. I warmed up immediately. Soon we were plodding on up and guys were ditching their extra clothes in the feed zone. Near the top I was setting pace, below threshold, steady. The 500 meters to go sign appeared and the KOM contenders picked it up and went around me. There was a screaming long descent on the other side that was 8 miles long in total, like one you'd see in the Tour de France. Some riders hit 58+ mph bombing it. It was especially steep near the top where there was a turn that veered pretty sharply to the left. I came upon it at 40+ and all of a sudden found that I could not slow quick enough to make the turn. I started drifting and drifting to the outside, working my brakes so I wouldn't start skidding. I was afraid to cut the corner tighter since the road was wet. I drifted over the white line and just made it around. I cautiuously feathered my brakes the rest of the way down. Chris Shaw was not so lucky. He went off the road on this corner and into the woods and broke his bars, ending his GMSR and a good chance at the podium.

At the bottom of the descent, somwhere around the 35 mile mark, the first riders over grouped up, and we were 9, 4 from team Placid Planet from New York, and 3 of them were in the top 7. Eventually 3 riders caught us, and we were 12. We organized a pace line and tried to build a gap on those behind us, but only some of us were doing any work and then there was the complaining, etc. We finally got our act together and moved through the valley. At one point the sky lightened, the wind blew behind us, the corn rose around us so tall the top of the stalks were folding over, and the Green Mountains loomed on either side of us. I waved my hand in the air and said “Look at this, can cycling ever be better than what we have right now?” And the riders agreed. We were in a leading break, the weather was now ideal, and we were halfway home. Course, they were all plotting my demise, but it was kinda familial all the same.

I had taped the numbers of the top 15 riders on my top tube, and circled the numbers of those who had done well in the prologue. 3 of the top 10 were not among us. They’d be the ones with the most incentive to catch us and I just wasn’t happy with our pace (about 23 mph). We went up the Notch Road hill and then the pavement became a dirt road. They gave me the honors of going first and I warned them to stay on the left as I saw loose rocks on the right the previous night when I drove the course. The dirt section went on for 2 miles and was almost downhill, and i was very worried about flatting. But noone had a mishap and eventually we made it pass the 50 mile mark and to the turn onto Baby Gap, a 5 mile climb with some steep sections. The pace car then told us we had a one minute gap on the next group. One minute only?

We started to climb. I thought the pace was a little slow and no one had a sense of urgency. So after the feed zone, I say to Aaron who was near me and that we should just leave, but he declined. So I just pedaled away up the hill at a steady pace. I knew it was putting a little sting into some of their legs, and after a minute I looked back to see how we were doing and was surprised to see that they hadn't come with me and there was a significant gap between us. Without thinking, I stepped it up just a little bit. Brad told me later that because the wind was so strong they were sure I was on a suicide move. But I do not remember realizing the wind at this point in the race. Soon they were out of sight when I went around bends. I kept pedaling, and started catching riders from races that had gone off before ours, keeping my heart rate below threshold in case they organized a chase and caught me so I would have gas in the tank for App Gap. If I saw them gaining on me my plan was to ease up and slide in line and save it for the end. But every time I looked I was alone. My first solo breakaway! Adrenaline was flowing. Sometimes the wind got fierce and I got as aero as I could. I crested Baby Gap and poured it on the downhill. As I came close to the bottom I could see up ahead that a group of cars had gathered all over the road. There had been an accident in the first group of 4s (the wind had blown several riders into each other and off the road). A woman screamed for me to slow down and I thought my breakaway was about to come to an end. At least I wasn’t face down on the pavement like this one poor guy. There were several riders way off the road in the ditch. Then they opened a path on the right side of the road and allowed me to ride slowly up the side of the road past them and I started the final climb up App. Gap, unfortunately having lost some momentum.

App Gap is the most difficult hill I have ever climbed, and is probably one of the most difficult racing climbs in New England, behind only Mt. Washington and Ascutney in difficulty, having ridiculous extended sections of >15% grade, and a finishing stretch of 20%. I plodded along, heart rate rising, trying to maintain a sustainable pace. Why burn matches now when I could get caught and dropped? And if I did make it I'd need gas for the final stage on Monday. I passed the 4 km to go sign, wind was shooting down some parts so fast I could barely keep the bike moving. The problem with this was that I had to stand to get force into the pedals, but standing made my body a big sail that the wind would push backwards. At times I climbed in the drops to minimize the wind. Then around another bend the wind was my friend pushing me on up. 3 km to go and still no sign of them. There were riders from the other races scattered everywhere, wobbling back and forth. Some people were pushing their bikes up the hill. I passed one by one saying “on your left”. The pace car was up ahead but I lost the support car to that accident scene. 2 km to go, still no one coming up on me. I was so close now! This is the way the maillot juene is supposed to ride, my brain was saying, this is panache! The French couldn’t complain about this cat 4 rider! I was doing my sums, adding bonuses, etc., counting my unhatched chickens. People on the side of the road were screaming. A little boy sitting on a ledge in the cliff shouted to me "Keep going, you can do it!" I might have many details in this story wrong, but not this; they were the clearest words I heard the whole weekend. He was so earnest and I said thank you. I could see the top of the climb curving around the canyon up and to the left. A cloud hung over the finish line and sometimes I would see a throng of people and other times a gray blob. I have no idea if it was raining or not. It was really dark and I removed my glasses and almost dropped them trying to stuff them in my jersey. 500 meters to go and I have to stand to keep the crank turning, and my back is shooting pain. The pace car vanished over the top of the hill. At about 100 meters to go I hear the announcer say my name through the mist and then something excitedly I couldn't understand. I got this sense that something was up. I looked back once more and I'll be danged if there wasn't someone in a red jersey passing riders below me. Is he in my race? Who cares? JUST PEDAL!!! I tried to spin but the legs were weak, and I'll be damned if I didn't lose the Mad River Road Race at the finish line.

App Gap finish

I pedaled across the road and stood there numb looking down. I congratulated the winner (Phil Beard) and soon Aaron came up, and then Dana, then Brad, all within a minute of me. So that was pretty close. They must have hit the base of the App Gap not far behind me. It was so cold and windy up there they postponed the podium presentation till before Monday's race in Burlington. I told Aaron that I’d be ice cold in about 2 minutes, so I descended down the other side of the mountain back to the staging area.

Later that afternoon I went to the race headquarters to find out about the penalty. It turns out it was not because of the yellow line rule or public urination, but because I had “crossed the finish line twice”. Say what? When I went back to the podium after the circuit race I had to go over that finish line, so ironically that official who told me to go back may have cost me the GMSR! They made me write an appeal and I spent a good hour writing something persuasive. When I handed it in, the official who took it said that she thought they had already done something about it. So I was hopeful, but would have to come back later that night to find out for sure.

I then called Peter who had left a message on my cell saying his 4 year old Evan had asked if I still had the yellow jersey (yes, Peter’s son really asks such questions). I said I have some good news and some bad news, and explained the days events. We were all excited and he said he was passing the news around to the gang back in Boston, and that Chip in particular was excited and that meant a lot since I was alone up there. Now I know why athletes, artists, whatever always often say this about the "support from back home". They know your path and how far you've come. He gave me a recovery routine for the evening and I went back to the Barn to swap cassettes on the bike, do laundry, etc. I discovered that whole day is spent dealing with the race one way or another at these stage races. It’s exhausting in itself.

Later that night I got great news at the headquarters. They gave back the 15 points to all of us who were penalized for crossing the line. What a huge relief that was. I checked the results and got 94 for second today, and an 18 point bonus for 286 total GC points. Phil was in second 17 points behind me, meaning I had a good chance to win it all if I stayed upright Monday and finished with the lead group. The gods were beaming on me.

Stage 4: The Downtown Burlington Crit was to go off at 10:30, giving me time to have breakfast with the same people at the Barn one more time before the hour drive to Lake Champlain. The Barn is owned by Betsy, a very spry elderly woman who was followed all of our races. Colman O’Connor was there each morning and we heard about his ride the previous day. His story was actually very similar to mine, as he left the group on Baby Gap and was caught at the finish. Then we realized we had raced together at Bow last month (masters 35+, toughest race I’ve been in). We’ll probably be racing together quite a bit down the road. Another rider had come in from California to do his 7th stage race of the year. Then there was a pair of guys who came up from Maryland for their second GMSR. One of them was in my race and he was sitting with negative points, which he thought was funny since his only goal this year was to get positive points. He supplied the weather report each morning via his laptop.

I drove up to Burlington through some heavy rain but it had passed through the city by the time I got to the course and warmed up. Let's get this over with! 24 laps to go on a technical 6 corner course. Most crits are on pretty flat courses, but apropos of the GMSR, this one had a nice hill that led to the finish line. We did not get a chance to pre-ride the course.

They had us line up bunched together on a side street before our start and then they called me out to the starting line. I could not stop smiling during all of this and I wanted to look at the riders as I went by but it was like I was embarassed to be so happy.

Waiting to be called to the line

Joel Friel (?) came up and asked me how I would like my name pronounced. One by one the other leaders came up, and then they did the podium for Stage 3. Then we were back on our bikes and as I was setting up my computer, everybody took off, and fast! I could not clip in! I would discover after the race that the tip of my left pedal had broken off somewhere allowed my foot to slide forward and off the pedal. I got in and started chasing. The guys were flying and I was in the drops for several laps trying to hang on and move up. A third of the field got lapped and pulled by the time it was over. My first mission was to find Phil as he was the one who could take the yellow jersey. I was zooming up the outside on straightaways and diving into corners, finding holes and metal stuff all over the place. After a while I was closer to the front and had found Phil. At one point Phil was riding at the front and I was second wheel. But when he pulled off, that was the last I saw of him in that race.

I could not get comfortable on that bumpy course made with every construction material known to man. When I was in front at one point I decided I’d just go ahead and go through the next corner first to be safe. Then the next, and the next. No one was coming around. Soon I hear Joel saying that was I was doing was often a good thing to do, set your pace and stay clear of trouble. There were 4 crashes in our race and since I was in front, I only saw one. This went on for some time and Joel then started saying things like “the field seems content to let Gary set the pace” (i.e. This is boring why don’t you attack?), but when someone went I was in a good position to jump on. That's pretty much all there is to say about this race, except that when the GC sprint came in the middle of the race, I went for the points for insurance and something happened to my other pedal. It was like my shoe was half in and half out. I found out later it had cracked in half along the spindle (another reason to toss the Times into the Charles!). I'm very lucky they didn't snap all way off as I would have had to finish with one foot clipped in. Anyway, they didn't snap off, I stayed up near front till the end, the 24th lap finally came, and I finished 5th in the crit.

Finish hill

I congratulated the guys who won for a good race and then a smile glommed onto my face and it would not leave for hours and hours and hours. I had won the GMSR. Yeehaw!