The sport of bicycle racing has evolved nicely in Sonoma County, which is an hour's drive north from San Francisco. The kingpin of the area's cycling activity is Dave Walters, a generous man who was once on the U.S. Olympic Team, and who holds many Masters National (and World!) Championship medals. The owner of Dave's Bike Sport in Santa Rosa, he puts a lot back in to the sport.
One of the events promoted by Dave is a weekly Tuesday evening criterium series in a business park in south-west Santa Rosa. It is there that many of us have kept our skills fresh and are able to regularly benchmark our fitness levels. Professional rider Jon Peters has said that he can accurately assess his health by seeing how long it takes him to shake me loose from his rear wheel when he "takes a flyer." I have done at least two thousand laps on this course over the years.
When Dave found that he was going to have difficulty securing the desired downtown course for the Wine Country Criterium, he took another available option: that of our "twilights" course. Despite my poor physical condition, I couldn't resist riding the big money race on a course that I knew so well. I had been doing some refereeing at the time, and those skills would also prove to be an advantage on this course.
The weather was perfect for the race which started comfortably and gradually sped up as the riders were learning the course that only I knew so well. A third of the way into the race, a breakaway group formed and slowly got away. Then, at halfway, another group got away from what seemed like a lethargic pack. The pace picked up, and then we started catching riders. It was presumed by most in the pack that these unfortunates were those who had been dropped by the main pack and were in the process of being lapped.
The referee in me had been keeping track of the riders scattered around the course, and I knew that the people that we were catching were actually those who had been individually dropped from the fast moving breakaway groups. Some of them, unhappy with their effort, simply withdrew from the race as would a lapped rider. The pack itself was eventually lapped by both of the breakaway groups.
Some more riders escaped from the pack, but I was keeping track of everything in my head (as would a good referee), and I knew that only eight of the riders who had broken away earlier had managed to lap the pack. I also knew that these new breakaways contained nothing but the riders who had lapped us with one exception. That meant that only nine riders were ahead of the pack, and that the pack sprint would be for tenth place. Even those who had lapped the pack seemed to be unaware of these facts.
As we approached the finish, the only parties that appeared to be interested in performing in the sprint were the riders who had lapped the pack. I latched on to one of the better sprint participants and would not let go despite being bumped around as things started to get exciting. My chosen mount did not disappoint, and knowing the finish better than any of the other participants, I hung on to him until pretty late in the game. After he had passed all but a handful of those contesting the sprint, I came around him, finishing ahead of all of the lapped riders!
Whoa, I had done it; I had cracked the top ten in a big race for the first time in over ten years, using nothing but smarts. The only folks who were not surprised were the referees, a couple of whom I sensed were quite jealous by my result. Also jealous were a number of those in the pack who realized that their lack of a performance in the final sprint had cost them. I shared my edible prizes with these folks and went home a happy camper, but knowing full well that this could be my last success at racing with the best...