After having an enjoyable collegiate racing season sporting the Blue and Gold of MSU, I decided to capitalize on my fitness and continue racing throughout the summer. I set my sights on the inaugural Tour de Bozeman in late July. Thanks largely to the help of alum Erik Jacobsen, I formulated a training plan including key races to help me prepare for the late season target.
The first race was in Boise over Memorial Day weekend, a race that I was eager to attend mostly for the opportunity to return to the town that I called home for three short months in the summer of '08. Sparing the details, I spent the majority of the time grumbling about the unbearably hot weather (for me, anyway), course selection, and expensive race entry fees for comparatively little reward..with a touch of mechanical misfortune as well. Biggest lesson of the weekend: don't race in hot weather with a massive 'fro. The mess of hair didn't allow the best ventilation for my overheating noggin.
With the upgrade points that I accumulated during the collegiate season, I decided that it was time to test the waters as a Cat 3 and join the very talented team of G.A.S./Intrinsik Architecture. One of the great advantages of racing as a Cat 3 in Montana is racing in the same peloton as the Cat 1/2 field and learning from the experienced riders..if you can somehow hang onto the pack. Putting the fear of being dropped off the back aside, I took the plunge...
And what a plunge it was. My first race as a Cat 3 was the very challenging Cow Country Classic, an 87-mile road race held north of Helena. Prior to Cow Country, I had only completed one road race longer that 50 miles, and that was in the comfortable temperatures of a typical Montana spring morning. Race day called for temperatures in the mid-80's with little chance of cloud cover to bring relief from the searing summer sun. For the first 55 miles the race went about as well as could be expected, as I found myself in a group of about 10 leaders out of the original ~30 rider peloton. Looking to protect our team leaders Brian Frykman and John Curry, I tried to chase a vicious attack from a rival NRO rider, but failed to fully latch onto the wheel. As I drifted back to the main break in shame, I realized that my legs were starting to take revenge from the punishing they had received over the first 2.5 hours. I looked down at my computer and began the countdown of the remaining 30 miles to the finish line, ignoring their calls of distress. An attack by the race leaders on a significant climb left me stranded on the road with no shelter. I maitained a moderate tempo pace, much to the anguish of my lower extremities, until a twosome from NRO picked me up from behind. While latching onto the back of the ever growing chase group, I gobbled down the remainder of my food and satisfied my thirst thanks to the volunteers in the wheel car who were filling our bottles. After cresting the final hill before the finish, I could finally feel the effects of the nutritional uptake and my legs arose from their slumber. Having sat on the chase group for the majority of 25 miles, I didn't feel inclined to challenge for the sprint and coasted in for a 5th place showing amongst Cat 3's. Big lesson from Cow Country: nutrition, nutrition, nutrition. And once again: cut the hair. My new teammates nicknamed me "Simmons" for the long, curly hair which sat atop the spandex outfit.
The new haircut caught my teammates off guard at the State Championship Road Race in Bearmouth. Unfortunately it did nothing to earn me a new nickname; "Simmons" had stuck. The toughest climb of the day occurred rather early in the 72-mile race meaning there was a good chance of a bunch sprint at the end. An early break containing a rider from the three biggest teams left the chase on the shoulders of the lonely, a task that would prove to be difficult with Brian "Freight Train" Frykman powering the break. Feeling surprisingly strong as we charged towards the finish, I was unfortunately the lone victim of some skittish pack riding by an individual in front of me. Peeling myself off the pavement to inspect my bike, I realized that everything was still operational, albeit a little bent out of shape. Thanks to the help of the wheel car providing a much-needed motor pace, I rejoined the hard-charging peloton in time for the final fire works. Drained from the long race, the crash, and the hard chase back to the main group, my legs cramped as I tried to provide a leadout for our leaders and I drifted into the finish towards the back of the pack. Lesson of the day: ride near the front to avoid crashes.
Some muscle injuries slowed me down for a while during the midsummer, which meant I missed the much-anticipated Elkhorn Classic in Baker City, OR. At the top of my physical condition and as a modest climber, I was hoping to test my fitness on the dreaded mountain top finish. However, I chose to rest the injuries to prevent any further damage.
In mid July I returned to the racing scene at the Tour of the Bitterroot, a 2-stage omnium consisting of an individual time trial and a criterium. Prior to my warm-up in the crit, I broke a spoke on my front wheel. I frantically raced around asking if someone could fix it, and fortunately ran into a local shop owner. He had my spoke replaced and the wheel trued in minutes. But as I pumped up my tube, the thin rubber found a hole in the sidewall of my nearly-new tire and burst violently. Scrambling to remedy the situation while consciously ignoring my warm-up, Alex Lussier graciously donated his pit wheel so that I could get my legs moving. After a two-man break formed with our teammate Alex and an NRO rider, the peloton basically rolled neutral, with the exception of a few mild attacks. With about two laps to go I took the reigns of the group and lined everyone up, with teammate Nate Weston pulling the last lap to give Frykman a chance to contend for the final sprint. The always challenging TT was exasperated by the hot, windy conditions. The key was to find shade for the warm-up and stay well hydrated because little relief was offered once on the course. Not a particularly strong TT rider, I was pleased with a 2nd place showing, until I realized a 16 year-old beat me by almost 3.5 minutes over the 17-mile course...
Finally the weekend of the Tour de Bozeman was upon us. Fair weather conditions and a few racers from outside of Montana created a buzz of excitement for the new event. The weekend started off with a TT on Springhill Road, featuring a slight uphill most of the way to the turnaround. After suffering from a hastened warm-up due to another busted spoke (?!) I began the TT with a lot of energy and powered through the first half of the course. Not especially strong on descents, I watched as John Curry flew by me on the downhill and I could only wonder how far behind me he started (turned out it was 2 min.). Oh well, TT's aren't my thing and I was hoping to save a little gas for the road race the next day (or so I tell myself). The second stage was a unique match-sprint stage. Groups of five or six riders raced down a 300 meter stretch of downtown Bozeman, with the top three advancing to the next round. A small Cat 3 field meant that I only had to survive one round to advance to the finals. A 3rd place finish, buoyed by the small field, was a welcome surprise for me as I've never been much of a sprinter. The final stage, a 70-mile road race with some difficult climbing seemed to suit my strengths. The original plan was to stay conservative early, perhaps shelter John Curry if he needed it, and hopefully break from the other Cat 3's / hang with the Cat 1/2's over the final climb. Of course this means that for some reason I went in the early break, which quickly dwindled to just myself, Brian Frykman, and the very strong Josh Tack from NRO. I quickly realized that I was no match for these two and worked to conserve my energy while also providing them with an occasional respite from the wind. For 50 miles we (meaning Brian and Josh) managed to hold off the hungry pack of chasers. After we were reeled in, I knew I was shot for the day and tried to keep the cramps at bay. Meanwhile Brian and Josh were off attacking again...just ridiculous. As the remainder of the peloton worked to keep the duo within range, my legs cramped at even the thought of an acceleration and I fell off the back when that acceleration finally came. I looked down at the computer to ovserve my snail's pace and discover that I still had about 10 miles to go, most of which was uphill. Long disgusted by my ignorance to buy a triple, I nonetheless shifted into the granny gear, breaking my vow against using the shameful addition to my bike. I kept looking back to see if I was about to be overtaken by a group of riders, but that group never appeared. A solo rider whipped around me, but I was relieved to see his number signifying that he was a Cat 1 or 2. I was still clinging on to my 2nd place for the Cat 3's. At the top of the pass my chain fell off as I tried to shift out of the granny gear - my punishment I suppose for stooping to such levels of desperation. A clear view of the open road below revealed that I still had a decent gap over the rest of my rivals. I was content to leisurely pace myself to the finish line where I threw my hands in the air in mock celebration. A tremendously difficult day was finally over and I stuffed my face with food generously provided by Jason Armstrong and his wife.
The final race on my calendar was the Zoo Town Throwdown, a crit in downtown Missoula. I was excited to race in my hometown and was eager for my family to finally witness a bike race. The course included a small section of cobblestones to keep everyone on their toes, and featured an otherwise fairly wide 6-corner route. Typical for me, I lined up for the start late putting me in the last row where I received a brief lecture from the race official for folding my numbers, and then failed to get clipped in on the first attempt after the starting whistle. The race was only five seconds in and I was already off the back. I've grown accustomed to starting poorly and did not panic as I methodically worked my way into contention while the peloton was still intact. Temperatures in the mid-90's and the high pace had me dehydrated five laps into the race; it was going to be a race of attrition. Eventually a break did form with 6 or 7 riders representing several teams. The tremendous triathlete, Matt Seeley, was not in the break, however, and was determined to join. With the gap at around 25-30 seconds, Seeley made a strong move that was covered by NRO's Elliot Bassett and myself. After several seconds of hammering I looked back to see that a huge gap had already formed. This guy was absolutely drilling it! A lap later the gap was cut in half and Seeley was showing no signs of slowing down. I did not quite latch onto Bassett's wheel and found myself working as hard as I could to hang on to the minimal slipstream. Eventually the gap between Bassett and myself widened and I faltered mentally..I had just fallen off my free ticket up to the break and my teammates. I sat up and tried to recover before the peloton came storming around me. Latching onto the main group took considerable effort as my breathing was still laborious, and it took several laps before I flushed the lactic acid from my quads. Several laps later I heard the worst possible announcement as we crossed the start/finish line: 25 laps to go. At this point I knew that I had been beaten by the incredible heat and fast race. I resigned to sitting in the group with the exception of covering for John Curry when he got stuck on the front. During the last few laps I realized that our group had in fact shrunk considerably, and there would be a decent shot at a group sprint victory for G.A.S. As we rounded the corner coming into the last lap, I pulled in front of Curry and ramped up the pace in hopes of stretching out the field and giving a leadout for my teammate in the leader's jersey. With about 25o meters to go, a rider finally pulled around me. Hoping to see Curry charge towards the finish line, instead it was NRO's Josh Tack and Elliott Bassett. Great, I had just given a leadout for my opponents, sorry John. Spent from my efforts on the last lap, I struggled into the finish with a rather weak sprint. Mostly I was just excited to be done with the race to get some liquids into my body, which at this point felt like a prune from the excessive evaporation. While I didn't finish as strong as I had hoped, I did wrap up 2nd place in Cat 3's behind my teammate Alex and could not be too upset.
I'm surprised I remembered as much as I did about the racing this summer. I'm already looking forward to next spring when MSU racing will once again be a force to be reckoned with. Until then, I'll be pulling out the mountain bike a little more often and enjoy what's left of the summer.
Scott L.
