As with most clubs across the country Tuesday nights are our local World Championships. Now that spring finally arrived the fair weather riders all came out for our TNWC and many of us were able to get a start on our biker tans. About thirty riders rolled out along a county road that will soon be swallowed up by suburban additions with houses planted like corn in former farm fields.

 

 It turned out to be a classic Tuesday night with attacks from the start, breakaways left to dangle with a hope of success, attempted bridges and team tactics being tested by some. Our club Race Director managed to take the prime sprint at the ten mile turnaround with a combination of his power combined with the fact that he  the one who painted the finish line. Following the prime sprint the group sat up for a mile and gave the shelled riders a chance to catch back on (for those that forget, this is a training race). We turned onto a winding, hilly road affectionately referred to by some as Thirteen Corners road.

 

 I took off early and had two or three riders bridge up to me. We zig zagged our way through all thirteen corners but were rolled up shortly before the turn back onto the return route. But once regrouped the attacks began again. A couple off the front and a couple more bridged up on the rolling hills and soon a group of four were left to dangle by the pack. Turned out to be a fun mix in the break that included Mikey and me in red along with Jim and one of his big K teammates in blue. We worked together to build our gap on the field and finally shelled Jim's teamate leaving Mikey and me in red to work over Jim in blue.

Being a lazy teenager or perhaps it is a cunning racer Mikey took the roll of sandbagger. Jim and I took our turns at the front keeping the pace high enough to stay away from the pack as they rode through the hills and tried to hide from the wind coming up the right side. I began my cycling career on this road 25 years ago and know every nook and cranny. When we were headed out I pointed out to Mikey that on the return the place to attack would be just after passing the County Line with 5K to go. Beginning there a break would have the woods to shelter them from the wind and the road has just enough turns to easily get out of sight of the pack so they don’t have a rabbit to chase.

Knowing how much I had left in my legs I timed my rotations so I was at the front and took a really long, hard pull dragging Mikey and Jim up to the woods at County Line. Once I had them safely tucked into the woods and sheltered from the wind it was time for me to sit up and send them on their way to duke it out. The trick would be for the two of them to work together enough to stay away from the pack but save enough energy for that final two up sprint. As I soft pedalled and recovered I waited for the pack to come up behind me as I watched Jim and Mikey ride off into the distance.

Soon enough the gang rolled me up. I melded back into the pack but knew my work for my teammate was not quite over yet. It was time for some blocking so the pack full of blue jerseys would not roll up the breakaway before the finish line. Luckily for me the wind was from our right so the group was echeloned from the gutter to the centerline. This made it easy for me to repeatedly sneak in at the third wheel as there was usually a tiny gap. Every time a chase got organized the leader would do his work and pull off, then the next guy would take a short, hard pull and then there I would be.

I did just enough work so the guy on my wheel would not blow by me but backing off just a half pedal stroke was enough to muck up the rhythm of the pack. Eventually the guy on my wheel would figure out what was happening and pull on through as I went back in the pack. But not too far as I would sneak back in the front of the echelon and suddenly find myself third wheel again just as the chase was starting to get organized again. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat.

As we came to the last mile of the race Jim and Mikey were within view and even with my blocking they were starting to get reeled in fairly quickly. The good part was they were rolling up on the finish line fairly quickly too. It looked like one of those professional European finishes where the break is caught in the final kilometer. Only it was not to be. If I had a radio Mikey would have been deaf as I would have been yelling at him to start stoking the coals. With the break almost caught and the finish line in sight the pack finally got as tired of my blocking as my legs got from hovering at the front. My work was done and all I could do was sit up and watch the pack try and swallow up my teammate. I also had an Ace up my sleeve because my other teammate Jerry was sitting in the pack marking the strong man in blue and the other flying monkeys in the pack, ready to take the win for the team in red if the break got caught.

Well now I know why Sidi puts those little red heels on their shoes. Mikey must have been clicking his heels together and saying, “I want to win, I want to win!” The two of them managed to just stay away and Mikey won the sprint with Jim taking second closely followed by the frustrated pack. While his strong legs and smart tactics helped him win that rainbow jersey this Tuesday Mikey owes a big thanks to the Squirrel Hunter for working his butt off like the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain.

Squirrel Hunter