The Mentor Race takes place the Saturday after Valentines Day just across the big creek from Cincinnati. All those pansy Reds baseball players head south to Florida for spring training. The real men shave their legs and drive to Flintlocks bar in Kentucky to race.

Group two were the gaunt looking individuals with wind burned faces whose first ride outdoors was the New Years Day hangover ride and they have been outside riding every weekend since. These fellows were in shorts and had the smell of a candy cane factory as each applied their warming embrocation balm with peppermint oils and other secret ingredients. The final group was the polar bears. Named not for their winter riding experience but instead for the layer of fat from too many Christmas cookies and a few too many pints on those cold winter nights. The polar bears were sipping whole milk lattes adding that final layer of fat for insulation before the ride.

 

Leaving Flintlocks bar we rode the four mile neutral rollout to the race start location. A nice chance to mix in with all the racers you had not seen since last fall. Rolling along with a hundred riders chatting away like a sewing circle. There was a moment of silence as we each looked to our right when we passed Schabobele road with the climb that ultimately leads to the “Toaster” on Sunday’s death march race. I was happy that I felt no prerace jitters as we rolled up to the start line and split up into our groups. This was a nice chance to shed layers as I had originally dressed for the predicted mid 30’s temperature but was pleasantly surprised to feel warm sun as the thermometer was trying to push 50 today.

First the Cat 1-2-3 group was sent off for there relatively flat race along the river valley. Next to take off was the Cat 3-4 group who began their race. Finally my group of Cat 4-5 riders heard the whistle sound followed by the click of riders snapping into their pedals. Our group was graced with a half dozen lovely lady racers who were combined into our race. As with many road races the start was at a reasonable pace with everyone warming up in the first few miles.

Having brand new riders in our group there were a few newbies that would take a flyer. They were left to dangle off the front for a while until fighting the wind by themselves wore down their enthusiasm then these novices would drift back into the shelter of the pack. As we past the lime plant we went under the banner that said “Safety First” which made me feel a little better for my first race of the season. Things settled in a bit until it heated up for the sprint prime and an UC rider shot off the front to claim his title. Afterwards the pack bunched back together.

Now that everyone’s legs were warmed up everyone settled into their chosen rolls within the pack. About a dozen riders joined in a rotating paceline that drove the pack down the road at a brisk pace. The women of Team Revolution mixed their share of riders in that leading group and it was clear that a few of them could have easily been mixing it up with the Cat 1-2-3 group. We cruised down the road in a nice steady rhythm until the first bridge which had a sharp bump at the expansion joint. This bump scattered water bottles and pumps through the pack as everyone found out how well their race bike was set up. Riders kept their cool and we settled back into our steady pace.

The relatively flat course had just enough gentle rollers to allow you to get out of the saddle every so often and stretch your legs and rest your butt. Checking my watch we were getting close to the turn around point of our out and back race course. Up the road was the Cat 3-4 group and eventually we rolled up to them. At this point you really had to pay attention to make sure no one with our series of numbers snuck off the front. The two groups of riders mixed together and soon we saw the Cat 3-4 breakaway group in the distance. Being the more savvy racers the 3-4 riders allowed the 4-5 riders to pull them up and catch the break of eight riders. We were all clustered together as my group got to our shorter turn around point for the 42 mile course we were on.

Having done this race before I knew to position myself near the front because each rider braked and slowed for the mid road turnaround and then had to accelerate back up to speed. This resulted in a long stretched out line of riders with those at the back having to work extra hard to close gaps and rejoin the group. Those that had been hanging on by their fingernails before the turn around were easily dropped by the group as everyone truly began racing. As we shot up the road on the return leg the pace was steady and fast. Every mile one or two riders would be shelled out the back finding that the extra piece of pie or the skipped training session was coming back to haunt them.

As we neared the end of the out and back race those downhills we enjoyed at the start became a steadily steeper yet gentle rise as we hammered our way towards the finish line. I could tell riders were getting tired as more than once I felt a handlebar jabbed into my ass when a rider was not paying attention. Happily I did not hear that painful scrape of metal. We came up on a steep section which I chose to shift to my small ring for. This was nice as I was able to spin up the hill while others mashed away in their big ring. On these last few hills we were shelling clumps of riders who did not have the legs left to race to the finish line.

There was a group of four riders who had broken away with a couple of miles to go and had a good gap on the field. But just like Le Tour they were slowly and steadily reeled in just as we came to the last few hundred meters. You knew the finish line was coming when you saw the string of wives cars parked alongside the road to cheer their hubby in his race. As always I am surprised to see riders I did not even realize were in my race move towards the front of the pack at the end. These are the guys that have the patience to sit in the back of the pack all day with complete confidence that other riders will chase down any break that tries to escape.

Once again the officials had picked an uphill finish since it is easier to score. A third of our original group raced towards the finish line. Included was a good chunk of the women’s field. I managed to slot myself in for a top ten finish. This would be towards the back of the top ten otherwise I would have written top five finish. All in all a good first race of the season for me. I felt comfortable in the pack and my fitness was where it needed to be to be competitive.

Thanks to Scott of Godzulla.com for putting together a well organized race. I really appreciated the fact that what was supposed to be a cold, winter race turned out to be a perfect sunny 50 degree day with no wind. Lucky for me that my schedule did not permit me to stay for Sunday’s race. So I missed out on Schabobele, the race that makes your mama cry, along with the agonizing climb up the Toaster several times in the rain.

Squirrel Hunter