Battenkill Masters 50+ Team Race Report
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The Conditions:
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Cloudy with temps in the low 50’s to start mid 50’s by the end. All in all pretty good weather conditions with showers holding off until later in the afternoon.
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The Course:
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In case you haven’t heard this is one of the more challenging courses around! The race is on a scenic 62 mile loop beginning and ending in Cambridge New York. There are 8 unpaved sections that make up 25% of the course (15 miles). In addition to a lot of rolling terrain there are 7 major climbs with total climbing of 4045 feet.
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The NEBC Results: Field size – 125
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- Chuck Dopfel – 56th
- Tom Evers – 80th
- Ron Menner – 98th
- Jerry, 2 flats, Jacobs – 99th
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Chuck’s Report:
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When I first heard about the Tour of the Battenkill a couple of years ago I figured if I stuck with this sport this is a race I’d have to do at some point. Having decided this was the year my objectives were simple – start toward the front, sit in, try to stay with the lead group as long as possible and complete the course safely. Still not feeling like a particularly strong climber compared to the top end of the Masters fields how long I’d be able to hang on when we hit the real hills was certainly in question. I knew it was going to be a day where I would really test both my physical ability and mental toughness in order to determine just how much I was willing and able to suffer in order to stay with the lead group for as long as possible.
After a short warm up I arrived at the staging area just as the Cat 5 Under 35 field was pulling away and I was able to get positioned on the front line for the 50+ field that was set to go off in 10 minutes. Jerry was right there next to me with Tom and Ron in the third and forth rows respectively. After some brief instructions, and a reminder about the unpaved sections of the course, we rolled off for a short neutral section to the edge of town. I settled in about four rows off the front with the field of 125 riders filling the road from yellow line to curb.
The first few miles were pretty uneventful and slow. For the first 10+ minutes the guys on the front didn’t seem to want to do much more then get out of town and easy peddle for awhile. There wasn’t any room on the road for anyone from behind, who might have wanted to pick up the pace, to come around and try to get things going. Until someone on the front decided to start racing we were all more or less trapped behind them just peddling along. So our neutral start was going to be a bit longer then most which honestly was not a problem or concern for me.
After about 4 miles the guys up front decided it was time to start racing and things began to pick up quickly. Attempts to see if a break could get off the front became the norm. Though a small gap was opened on a couple of occasions everything was quickly countered and closed down. Even though all the attempts to get a break going failed it was obvious the game was now on and that there would likely be no more easy peddling for the next few hours.
As we turned left off of 313 we went through a covered bridge and made a quick right with the front of the field really putting the pressure on. I was sitting in the top 20 and I was working pretty hard to stay on the wheel in front of me as we hit the first dirt section. There were some small potholes and a little bit of loose gravel but this section was pretty well packed and it didn’t seem to slow us down a bit. The front end of the field was beginning to get strung out and a quick glance at my HRM showed 164, well above my LT. I put my head down and for the first time started repeating a new mantra to myself—NOT HERE, NOT NOW—as in “They are not going to drop me here! I am not going to get dropped now!”. This internal dialog to help keep my focus and push through the pain was going to become a valuable companion as the race continued to unfold.
As we returned to pavement the road was pretty narrow and the yellow line rule was put to rest, if not by the officials the field was certainly ignoring it so enforcement seemed out of the question. The use of the whole road allowed for more movement up from the back so along with sitting in I was now watching closely to pick up on any major moves around the outside in order to maintain my position at the front of the field. My heart rate had settled back down into the mid 150s, which is still a little on the high side for me but I was feeling pretty good and knew I could sustain this sort of effort for awhile. I was still sitting around 20th in the field with everything, for these first 10 miles, going to plan.
This stretch of paved road had the first major climb that ended with a sharp left onto the second unpaved section of the course. The surface here was a little looser with a little more gravel then the first unpaved area but you could still find well enough packed lines and maintain speed and position without to much concern. A sweeping bend to the left revealed the first major climb on a dirt section of the course. It was obvious to me that this was going to be the first real test and that if I lost contact with the front of the field here I’d likely never get it back. A few deep breaths, shift down, start my new mantra – not here, not now – and begin the climb still around 20th. This climb was steep enough that it had me checking to make sure I didn’t have another lower gear to go into, I didn’t. Feeling like I needed to stand to maintain contact I did. Standing took weight off the rear wheel and it began to slip on the gravel so I sat back down. Check for another lower gear again just to make sure, s#@t there isn’t one. Maybe if I stand and push my hips back I can keep the rear wheel weighted enough, f@#k that didn’t work. Not here, not now! Shift again just to be sure, nothing there. Stand just in case its packed enough here, no. HRM 175—in three plus years of racing this is the highest number I’ve ever seen! Crest the hill, now a fair way back from the lead riders, and I put my head down and start chasing breathing deeply and repeating to myself – not here, not now!
It seemed like there where 10 or 15 guys up ahead that made it over the climb together and then a whole bunch of people spread out trying to chase back on. I knew that if I wanted to really take this sport seriously and move up a level in Masters races now was the time to suck it up and learn how to suffer to stay in a race. There wasn’t any organization to the chase as everyone around me with any chance of getting back onto the lead group was pretty much going all out to get there. After chasing for awhile on the dirt things were still pretty strung out with a larger lead group starting to form and lots of guys still chasing hard. I still had a good amount of work left to do if I was going to catch back on and I was glad when we retuned to paved road. I kept that little voice going in my head when we made a right hand turn onto the next dirt section. I think going off pavement again helped me as I suspect that the lead group probably slowed some to stay safe on the gravel and I could chase with abandon without needing to worry about anyone around me. Shortly after getting onto the unpaved section I rejoined the leaders, sat on the back, stopped the voices in my head, and caught my breath.
It seemed like there where 40+- riders that made this first selection of the race, and I was glad to be one of them. We were probably some 16 miles into a 62 mile race and I had worked as hard as I ever have, recorded my highest heart rate ever, and learned a little bit about suffering early in a race to stay in it. Some accomplishments and successes of note already behind me, with forty five miles still to go.
When we hit the pavement again I noticed the pace car was a little ways up the road with what looked like 3 or 4 riders behind it. I didn’t notice when they got away but figured it was on the dirt climb and that they had opened a gap from there. There didn’t seem to be any effort to close down the gap and the pace seemed pretty slow and easy. I suspect everyone was pretty much doing what I was doing—recovering from the effort to get this far, comfortable that the field had been split, and not to worried about a few guys 30 seconds up the road this early in the race.
The next 10 miles or so seemed like a leisurely Saturday afternoon ride through the country side compared to what it took to get here. The roads were all paved and in good condition as we peddled through a small hamlet or two and past farmland and woods. I don’t know if guys where blocking on the front helping to keep the pace slow, or if nobody really cared about the guys up the road. Whatever the reason for the easy ride I certainly welcomed it knowing that we were putting miles behind us, I was still riding with the lead group, and we still had 40 miles to go and probably plenty of opportunity for work ahead of us.
At about mile 27, as we approached a left hand turn, I heard some guys talking about the next climb—“I’m not sure how steep it is but I’m pretty sure it’s the longest one on the course”. We make the turn onto Joe Bean Rd and it’s time to get back to work. The next 2.5 miles or so is a combination of long gradual climbs, false flats, and a few steeper sections thrown in to keep you on your toes, or out of your saddle. It is time to get that voice in my head going again as the field starts to get strung out on the hill. About half way up it is obvious that this is the next real selection point of the race. Thoughts of – Not Here, Not Now – keep going through my mind as I work to get up this hill as near the lead as I can. The field is really strung out and as I make the left turn near the top of the climb I can see the lead of the field well up the road and I know that I’m going to be working hard chasing if I’m going to have any chance of getting back up to the leaders.
The chase leads onto the next dirt section which is slightly downhill and I find one or two guys to work with along the way. We’re all sharing the effort and working hard to see if we can get back up to the lead group. This section is pretty well packed so there seems to be nothing slowing down the field ahead of us. After a couple of miles, the longest I’ve ever chased, and just before we make the next right hand turn back onto paved road we catch back on. I look over to the guy who worked with me to get back to the leaders and say thanks, he looks at me and says “that was tough”, and we both settle in and catch our breath.
We’re a little over half way through the race now and I’m still riding with the lead group! I’ve had to work hard to accomplish this feat and with no idea of what the next 28 or 29 miles has in store for us I settle in to recover as best as I can from the effort to get this far.
The next eight or nine miles seems to be back to an easy pace again. At one point I notice our pace car across the valley with what looks like seven or eight riders behind it. This is more then I thought I had seen before, or others around me had thought where away, so I wonder if they are all part of our field or if they are overtaking people who are off the back of the field in front of us. Either way they have a pretty good gap on us now and everyone would need to get serious about going to get them soon if we are going to have any chance of chasing them down. I’m certainly in no condition to start something so I continue to sit in and recover glad to be with the lead group and starting to believe that I just might be able to finish with them.
Around mile 43 we hit the next climb on the course. This isn’t to bad a climb by itself but at this point every up hill takes a little more effort and focus to get over. We add a complication to this hill as we start to overtake a group of 10 or 15 riders off the back of the field that started in front of us. Add to this a transition onto another unpaved section and things get more interesting. Seeing that I’ve been riding toward the tail end of the pack I get a little concerned about possibly getting caught within the slower group we were overtaking and having a gap open. I push out to the left and start trying to watch numbers closely to make sure everyone I’m around is part of my field. I change my focus from sitting in to one of trying to move forward figuring that this would be the best way to ensure I come out the other end intact. It takes us a minute or two but we seem to pretty cleanly, and completely, pass this group all together.
Things are about to get real interesting again.
This dirt section becomes a downhill with what seems like deeper and looser gravel and bigger stones then the unpaved sections we’ve ridden to this point. As the speed quickly begins to pick up I try tapping my brakes to control it wanting to make sure there is room around me so should anyone in front or next to me slip, or should I, that I’ll have room to maneuver without any need for sudden turns that could prove both figuratively and literally fatal. Problem – there is so much dust on the rims and brake pads that tapping the brakes does absolutely nothing to control my speed! I try putting a little more pressure on the brakes, still nothing! I’m afraid that if I try putting any more pressure on the brakes that it will quickly and suddenly go from no effect to locking the wheels on the gravel. This is not good and a little scary! I sit up to catch some wind and realize scared is not a good thing so I move left to find some open space, take my fingers completely off the brakes to avoid any risk of squeezing them, and relax everything but my grip on the handle bars so I can keep control while being supple enough to react to any gravel, stones, loose dirt I may hit without dumping it.
We make it to the end of this downhill dirt section turn onto and then back off pavement and start another climb. I have that little voice going in my head again – not here, not now – and I am glad to hear all the heavy and labored breathing around me. So they’re all feeling it too! I focus on slowing and deepening my breathing, one of the many benefits of my yoga practice over the winter, to make sure I’m exchanging as much air as I can. I manage over this climb without loosing any ground—no chasing back on this time!
We make a left onto a paved section and I notice that the paved road makes a right a few hundred meters from where we turned onto it and that straight ahead is another unpaved section with a hill that from where I was sitting very much resembled a wall. PLEASE let the race go to the right! The novelty of racing on unpaved road surfaces has long ago lost its luster and is starting to get old! Add to that yet another climb on dirt after two hours of racing and its fair to say I’ve had about enough of this. It quickly becomes obvious to me that the paved road is going right and we’re going straight, right into the dirt wall in front of us.
I take a deep breath, shift down to a climbing gear, let the negative thoughts go and put the phrase – not here, not now – firmly in mind as I start the climb. If they can do this so can I! I’m holding my own, staying in position relative to the front of the field, and move around a few guys who are dropping back. I start feeling really good about my chances of staying connected with the lead group to the end as I continue to maintain my position relative to the front of the field. Not here, not now! Oh NO! I look down and my front tire is completely flat.
2 hours 16 minutes into the race, somewhere around mile 49 or 50, I was with the lead group of a very strong 50+ field in as challenging a race as you will find, but there is now no way I’m going to finish with them. I pull to the side and begin the process of replacing my tube. I pretty quickly get the new tube in and I’m screwing the CO2 cartridge onto the fitting as the wheel van pulls up. They ask if I need a wheel and I say I think I’m alright, put the CO2 onto the valve stem, inflate the tire, and hear it blow out – apparently in my haste I had left a portion of the tube pinched between the tire and the rim—I’m glad the wheel van didn’t show up 30 seconds earlier or I may have told them I was set and they may have left before I blew out my one replacement tube. So I get a wheel from the back of the van, put it on the bike, and within 6 minutes of stopping I was getting back on the bike, but…....
Once I had stopped and gotten off the bike I’m pretty sure I heard my whole body respond with a THANK YOU as it started to relax thinking that the stresses I had been subjecting it to must finally be over. Getting my leg back over the bar, clipping in, and thinking about those first few peddle strokes, still on an up hill dirt section, was not what my body was expecting and preparing for in the proceeding six minutes. Getting going again was tough, my legs felt tight and stiff, but I needed to get on with it as the bike was the only way I had of getting back to town, and there was still a race to complete.
As I got going I was joined by a rider from OA/Cyclemania. Though we where both pretty well spent we rode the last 12 miles trading pulls and took on the last couple of climbs and dirt sections, pretty uneventfully, together. The spectators we passed cheered us on and called out the distance remaining – “only 5 more miles to go”, then 4, then 1K.
As we made the final turn and could see the finish line I turned to John and said that when I started racing a few years ago and heard about the Battenkill race I thought it was a race that I had to do at least once, and now I have.
I learned a lot, accomplished a lot, and all in all had a very successful day! I’ll never know if I would have been able to stay with the lead group for those last 12 miles had I not flatted but having stayed with them for 2 hours 16 minutes and 49+ miles in such a challenging race was certainly an accomplishment for me and in many ways well above my expectations at the start. During a couple of key points in the race I put more effort in then I ever have before to chase back on and stay with the leaders, including an effort early on that resulted in the highest heart rate I have ever recorded. I learned more about what it means to suffer at key points in a race to be successful and that if I do that there will be a chance to recover from the effort and continue racing. I’ve never before been able to muster the mental energy required to generate the physical output that is necessary to chase down a lead group when that chase lasts for a mile or two but I somehow managed to do that on two occasions in this race – once without any real help and once with the help of someone else who was just as determine to not get dropped at that place and time as I was.
What an experience! Racing really is fun………….