|
by Jeff Dieffenbach | view the slide show | back to portfolio | back to deepbrook home | email me at dieffenbach @ alum.mit.edu 
Attacking off the Lunch
When sensing weakness in one's competitors, attacking off the front gives strong riders a legitimate shot at victory. Weaker riders must pursue other avenues. Here's a story of the "other avenue" one such rider took to a podium finish. (Apologies in advance to the group member--I've forgotten who--favoring shorter rather than longer ride accounts! Out of consideration for such sensibilities, feel free to skip ahead to the brief sections in bold.) Rewind two weeks to Labor Day weekend Saturday and the Charles River Wheelmen's "Harvard Hill Climb." As that ride settled in, I connected up, rode, and finished with Marc Cecere. Along the way, he mentioned a New Hampshire "5 Notch" ride with a group he knew and invited me to join. I replied with a firm "Maybe," starting thinking about the September 18 weekend's logistics, and as the day got closer, began checking the weather (click here to see the temperature profile as of Friday, September 17). With a forecast of cold but sunny, the ride was a go--I cut out of work early Friday afternoon and made the 2 hour 45 minute drive north to Franconia NH, eventually pulling up to the home of Jay Olmsted, one of three hosts for the event's two dozen or so riders, the host of that night's dinner and party, and my generous host for the night. Saturday morning dawned chilly as predicted. I suited up in what proved to be the perfect choice: thin head band, Under Armor base layer, jersey (Triple Bypass), full-fingered gloves, charcoal-activate ski hand warmers, shorts, leggings, cycling socks, warm socks, and the feet version of the hand warmers. The 8am start predictably became 8:30am and finally 8:55am as we clicked in, the sun beginning to force its way through a 45 degree early morning haze on the 10 mile or so warmup stretch before the start of the first climb up to Beaver Pond (NOTCH 1). Along the way, I rediscovered the second benefit of taking a turn at the front of a pace line. Not only are you doing your part, but you're also given the chance to slow things down a bit if the group you're with is a bit too quick for your liking! For the descent, Jay promised a perfect road surface, and it delivered. Jim added that the sight lines were great, and they delivered too. I had visions of besting my 45.3 top speed. Not yet in the groove, I needlessly tapped my brakes a few times at the top and managed only 44.5. 0.8 mph short. Repeat visit warranted. We pushed through the Route 3 crossing (10:13am) and Lincoln to one of the rider's condos and a welcome food stop. And not just any food stop, but a pretty lavish spread. Fuel for the climb up the Kanc. I peeled off my leg warmers, rolled them, and shock-corded them behind my seat post for the 11:00am restart after roughly a 30 minute break. I rode most of the climb up 112 (known better as the Kancamagus Scenic Highway) with Bill--great having someone my pace. After a reconvening and short break at the top (NOTCH 2), we descended. Longer than the drop after the first notch, the ride was a blast but not quite as quick. I made the left onto Bear Notch Road, where several people had gathered to make sure that no one missed the turn. I pushed ahead behind two riders from our group, wanting to avoid continuing to bring up the rear. Bear Notch (NOTCH 3) barely counted as a notch in my book, but it offered a great descent down to 302. Rich greeted me there and directed me to the lunch stop a quarter mile to the east (right) on 302 where most of the rest of the group had gathered. I chose to hang out at the T intersection and chat, taking the opportunity to remove my hand and foot warmers and swap out my full fingered glove for my regular riding pair. Marc arrived and chatted with two riders from another group, then we conferred for a bit, and with his being on a schedule (back in Wellesley by 7pm) and my not wanting to stiffen up over lunch, we pressed west (left) on 302 (1:25pm) toward Crawford Notch. One rider (Bob, touted by others to be the town line sprint champ!) having already pushed off in that direction. As we rolled along 302, a thought occurred--maybe we could crest Crawford Notch ahead of the main group. Marc, a stronger climber than I, pulled ahead. I pressed on past the Appalachian Trail crossing (2:11pm) to the point where the true climb began in earnest. The worst of the ascent reared its head in a short section between Silver Cascade and Flume Cascade (2:28p), as evidenced by the Google Satellite, Google Earth, and Map My Ride profiles. 20% grade? Seriously? I didn't walk, but I thought about it. Instead, I essentially track-standed my way up, noting 4.3mph at one of the few points when I risked falling over to glance down at my computer. Saco Lake (NOTCH 4) couldn't have arrived sooner, and the worst of the ride was done. I made the long solo slog along 302 before turning left (another left!) onto the Route 3 slog. Have I mentioned the head wind? It didn't affect the climb, but on the high flats, it was more than noticeable. And at any minute, I figured I'd be caught by the pack. After the four notches already complete, Franconia Notch hardly registered, and the climbing was done (NOTCH 5). Visions of the right turn (a right turn!) onto 18 in my head, I spotted the junction sign ahead. Sadly, it wasn't for 18, but rather, 141. At the intersection, however, a sign indicated 141 to 18, so I took the right rather than continuing as I should have. A steep descent ruled out any notion of turning back, and I shortly found 18 and turned left ... only to face a wall that reminded me of Crawford Notch. Knowing I was close, I spent what energy I had left, made the right onto Kerr, found Wells, and cruised for home, finishing at 3:55pm. "Attacking the lunch" had worked--I was third in (behind Bob and Marc)! Sure, it wasn't a real third, nor were the green and polka dot jersey points I racked up along the way, but they were fun to think about nonetheless. [Note: I've learned that another rider, Tom, joined Bob, so my dubious podium third is nothing more than a plain-vanilla fourth.] I packed up, showered, and waited until about 5pm. With the group still not back, I hopped in my minivan for the drive back to MA. On the way back along 18 to Route 93, I passed Albert and Kevin at the front (5:08p), with the rest of the pack not far behind, suggesting that at least one or two stops to consolidate had taken place along the way. Great ride, great accommodations, great group! And yeah, I'm happy to hand my step on the podium over to whomever deserved it. |
