A dead sprint victory (Summer series wrap up race 4)

Before I get into the race events of the evening I want to give credit to the Mutt for taking the picture of my injury. Thank you for getting the picture of me at my finest.



Now for the race report. I didn't suck today!. A middle of the pack finish for me.
No crashes, all and all it was a good day for a race. I really wasn't feeling like going for 2 laps at the USNWC today when Neil shouted "Racers ready.....GO" But I took off like a bat out of hell anyway.


After a decent start I was in the middle of the pack and feeling pretty good. I wasn't getting passed by anyone in my class and the age group above me hadn't caught up to me until after the carpet trail and even made a few passes of my own. This was a new feeling for me.

I kept pushing myself and got to lap 2 still feeling good. After some encouraging words by The Mutts significant other Little Miss Sunshine at the start/finish line I decided to see what my body could do in terms of keeping my heart rate up. Instead of going at my normal lets ride for hours and hours pace I kicked it up. I ended up passing a few of the older class that got me on the previous lap.

Anyway after what I thought is a blistering pace I neared the end of the 2nd lap and I saw a rider ahead of me. Not thinking of looking at his number plate I passed him near the parking lot. As we exited near the walking path around the whitewater I caught up to another rider. I yelled and asked him what class he was in "Over 45" he replied. I yelled up "I'm not in your class, I wont do anything stupid" Then like a flash I see the rider I just past not long ago and get a glimps at his number plate. Crap he was in my class. He had a 15 foot head start on me with only 600 feet to go till the finish. I put the Culprit into the big ring and start grinding away. I notice the guy is running a 69er (not as dirty as it sounds, it means a 26 inch wheel on the back and a 29 inch wheel on the front). 50 feet to go and I am standing up mashing my pedals and within 3 feet of his front tire. 10 feet to go and I pull even with him, and at the finish I squeak by him by by less than a wheel. After catching my breath I go back to the start finish line and ask "Did I get him?" I just wanted to be sure. "Yeah you got him".

All that for a middle of the pack finish. On the plus side I have never lost a sprint at the finish. Granted I have only been in about 3 or 4 of them, but it goes to show what the power of the big ring can do. Also shows that small wheels are again superior in the sprint.

With no new parts to be excited about for the culprit and a long weekend, hopefully I get get a few rides in between all of the alcohol that is going to be consumed.

Have a good long weekend.