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<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#006699" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="02c285a1erlcgo.gif"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>REI Austin Cycling Team</B></FONT><B>     |     </B><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="REI Austin Cycling Team"><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <div> back to  <A HREF="id164.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Race and Ride Reports"><U><B>Race and Ride Reports</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFCC66" TEXT="#080000" background="02ad2c00dkelyh.gif"> <div> <A HREF="id164.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Race and Ride Reports"><U><IMG SRC="03b0e0e0.gif" border=0 width="14" height="14" ALT="up" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A>   <IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="14" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" WIDTH="14">     <A HREF="id169.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Title 169"><U><IMG SRC="02f0e0e0.gif" border=0 width="14" height="14" ALT="previous" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A>  <A HREF="id171.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Title 171"><U><IMG SRC="0300e0e0.gif" border=0 width="14" height="14" ALT="next" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A></div> <div> <B>Fort Davis</B></div> <div> <B>Race Report</B></div> <div> <B>... Jaime Slaughter</B></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> Okay, here it is, the long-awaited and eagerly anticipated report about Ft. Davis from one Cat 3 rider's perspective: </div> <div> First, keep in mind that this was a stage race; three races in two days - and that after 430 miles of driving. Stage 1 was a 16 mile TT. It was described as "flat", and we all expected it to be "flat." Stage 2 was a 16 mile RR (that's not a typo, it was from the town of Ft. Davis up to the observatory. Stage 3 was a 70 mile RR that meandered through the Ft. Davis mountains. Stages 1 and 2 were on Saturday and Stage 3 was on Sunday. </div> <div> Second, kudos to everybody who went out to this race. Besides me, there were David James, John Taylor, Zak White, Travis Wilky, Jeromie Payne, and John Leader. All those guys worked really hard, and had great races, regardless where they placed in the rankings. They'll benefit from this race for a long time. </div> <div> Stage 1: the course that most of us followed (John Leader missed the first - and only - turn on the course) went for about 3/4 mile before turning directly into a 20 - 25 mph headwind (not a gusting wind, a constant headwind), and up hill. It's true that it was "flat" relative to the surrounding Ft. Davis mountain range, but I was pedaling at 100 or so rpm at my threshold HR and only going 14 or 15 mph. After 9 miles of that (which took me 33 minutes!), I discovered that the race officials had put the turnaround at the highest possible point on the course. The good news was that following the turnaround was 7 miles of downhill with a very strong tailwind. I put my head down, moved onto the white line, and kept that line between my aerobars to stay on course. Spun out in my 53/12, and at 40+ mph, I was (for the only time the entire weekend) wishing for a bigger gear. It took 11 minutes to get to the finish line from the turnaround - that's 7 miles in 11 minutes! The suffering had begun, but compared to what was to follow, the TT was a walk in the park. </div> <div> Stage 2: the group sauntered out of town heading towards guaranteed pain and agony, with certain musings over the challenge that lay ahead: these thoughts ranged from "I can win this" to "I hope I can I make it to the top." I'm confident that some had thoughts like mine, which were along the lines of trying to convnince myself that it had been a good idea to drive 430 miles in the middle of the night to "race" up a mountain on my bike, when I could've been at home watching TV and eating ice-cream. John Leader, who'd spent most of the afternoon begging his Cervelo TT bike for forgiveness at having missed his turn, took off on the first hill leaving town with a UYS rider (a skinny dude named Troy). The rest of us (Travis, Jeromie and I) tried to block for him - thinking that if only he could get up most of the main climb (which started 9 miles into the race) before getting caught, he'd probably make it up the entire "hill" (the one that started at 9 miles) in first overall. Several attacks were mounted, but as I didn't recognize any of them as a threat to John I let them go. Every one of them popped, got swallowed up and spit out, and left behind as road-kill. The racers that were in contention watched each other carefully, and none of them attacked solo. However, despite our blocking, and a somewhat relaxed pace, the wind and the terrain took its toll on John and Troy. As we passed these two at the base of the first ascent (just after 9 miles), we all gave them encouraging words for their heroic effort. Then things got interesting all over again. All the skinny dudes somehow ended up on the sharp end of the peleton, with everybody fighting to grab a wheel, and looking for a smaller gear. A few tried to attack the way they'd seen Lance do it in the TDF just after he looked back at the German, but every one of them became victims of the climb within a few hundred yards. So, the rest of us kept the pace at or slightly above threshold, with the RPMs as high as possible, and hammered up the base climb at a blistering 7-9 mph. The view was scenic, the road cut up the side of the mountain following its contour - mountain on one side, and a cliff on the other. The size of the peleton dwindled, and by the time we hit the part of the climb up to the observatory (steeper and longer than the climb I took Josh and Stephanie to), there were only about 10 or 12 left together; and those spread out pretty quickly as the slope took its toll. Two bike lengths was about 10 seconds! Grinding up that slope, you just had to know that this was better than ice-cream. That effort was one of those that makes you look deep inside yourself, looking for answers, and hoping to find strength, perseverence, dedication, or whatever it is that'll make you capable to overcome the adversity you're facing. I saw some riders walking up that part of the climb (and probably going faster than some of those that were riding)! </div> <div> Stage 3: Y'all have seen the course profile, so I won't repeat all the general description of the ascents. Jeromie took off from the starting gun, solo. The top 10 in the GC were all sitting on the tail end of what was left of the peleton, watching Jeromie get further and further ahead. They kept asking me what Jeromie was up to; to which I replied "I dunno, that wasn't part of the plan" and "I think he's just warming up." In reality, Jeromie was booking it to get ahead and try to come over the top of the first climb with the group. It worked for him, and later in the race some other racers used the same tactic (race ahead on the "flats" so that they could take the hill at their own pace). I flatted near the top of the first hill, and had some difficulty getting a wheel from the support truck. When I got it changed I was releived to see that John Leader had done the ultimate sacrifice and waited for me. With John to work with me, I felt confident that my race wasn't blown. Then, as luck would have it, John threw his chain just as we started to grind back after the peleton. I soft-pedaled waiting for him to sort things out, and watched anxiously as the gap expanded until the group was well out of sight. As the time got longer, I started to think that John wasn't coming. After an eternity, there he was - head down and hammering towards me. We worked together and made up a 90 second gap in less than 2 miles. From that point, the race was a lot like most others (with some big hills thrown in for good measure), until the turnaround. There is no way to describe the pain that was involved with the hill after the turnaround. It just sucked, and it just kept on going. Worse than that, at a couple of the flatter sections of it, instead of relaxing a bit and letting the HR come down some, we up-shifted and kept on hammering. By the top, the group wasn't much of a group anymore - only about twleve of us left. From that point the "macho-fest" started. There was about a 4 minute gap to close on a small breakaway that had gone off just before the descent into the turnaround, and most of us were eager to reel it in. We caught the breakaway one at a time, except for two that stayed away until the finish. The gap closed, but not enough. As for my finish, I bonked with 1200 meters to go. For those who've never had a true "bonk", I hope you never do. For those who have, you know how much a bonk is like those nightmares where you're trying to run, but can't because the fastest you can go is "slow motion." I lost between 30 seconds and 1 minute on my little group in that 1200 meters, and that cost me 2 places in the GC (adding to the "suck" of the "suckfest"). However, I was pleased with my GC, and intend to pursue more knowledge about my nutritional needs during such demanding events. </div> <div> Summary: this event put every ounce of one's courage, committment, and confidence to the test. Some were pleased with their actual grade (i.e. their finishing place), but all who finished were pleased with their test results because they'd demonstrated that they'd learned something about themselves that they hadn't known on Friday night. I highly recommend that everybody attempt this event at least once in their life, although you'll wonder why you're doing it, you'll know the answer when you're done. </div> <div> Jaime</div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>