Green Mountain Wrap Up, belated

Green Mountain Stage Race is something I've looked at as the culmination and best of Northeast stage racing. This would be my first chance to race it, but I went in knowing I wouldn't be in proper overall placing form. Fortunately, due to a good friendship with a rider on the Grinta Cycling Team (and their whole team being a bunch of good guys), I was going to be able to make myself useful as a support rider for their squad.

We arrived Thursday for the Friday-Monday stage race, in good spirits and with a high level of excitement...because, well, it's Vermont. Maine is amazing and does have the good ol' Atlantic. But this was the first time I've really appreciated the beauty, purity of nature, and terrain that Vermont offers. I like it. Anyone have a ski house in the Green Mountains that I can tend to and take care of the upkeep on a bit next summer?

To the races: Day 1: Time Trial, strong uphill, fast downhill (but nets with some noticeable elevation gain). With my current (lack of) training there are two things I have lost bigtime: climbing and TT-ing. So this was going to be rough. It hurt. The kind of hurt that happens early, often, and flat out bums you out. Because weeks or months earlier that hurt wouldn't happen at this effort. But, today, it sucks. Your only reprieve is to attack that misery and do your best to harness it, even though you know it won't be resulting in a good performance. It was one of the hardest time trials I had done for this exact reason. You are giving it everything, and getting out seemingly nothing. But, life goes on...even if you do get dizzy, can't sprint at the finish, and throw up in your mouth a little. I ended up in a expectedly disappointing 41st place, 1:30 back on the leader - fellow Mainer, Eric Follen, who has shown exceptional form for months on end. The man I picked for a top GC spot. Fortunately, our (Grinta's) top rider - Johan - showed up this weekend with 9th @ 40 seconds back, and only 15 seconds from the podium.

Day 2: Circuit race. Today was for the big sprinter on the team, Jason Barella. I'm a good sprinter, but as a guest rider I was going to be helping keep the pressure off of Jason, Johan, and Reid who would be the finishing crew. Alex and I covered attacks and got into moves. I picked up a few sprint points and got into two breaks, one of which I really thought was going to make a run for the win. I spent a few matches (which, I later learned was ALL of my matches when I cramped up on the last climb). Jason held STRONG - not getting dropped as he did in the Cat 3 race last year - and would come ready for the finish. A group of 3 got off the front on the last lap and the field would fight for 4th. Jason, with a ballsy and strong leadout aid from Reid and especially Johan (the guy who normally would be saving energy for Day 3), nipped off 4th in the field sprint for 7th on the stage. With my cramping, I pedaled in easy 8 minutes back...making myself zero threat for any contender.

Day 3: Road Race, 100 miles, 4 climbs, one sprint. Summit finish on the epic Appalachian Gap. There was a long neutral roll out until the official start. The plan today was keep Johan saved up for when the last 30 miles came along, which would decide the final standings of the overall race. I had a few sprint points and decided to make a move I had never done. The official signaled the start of the race. Everyone was cruising at 18mph. I attacked, no one with me, and put my head down. Looking back periodically I noticed minimal response from the field. It was clear no one else desired to ride 100 miles out front today. I was ready, whether or not I could survive it. The gap to the field floated between 50 and 200 meters, until my teammate Reid made his way up to me - safely and alone. We worked it really hard to get the sprint points for me at mile 13. Once it was set, I thanked him and told him to keep it steady but conserve. I would do what I could to keep the pace high: we had averaged nearly 27mph for the first 45 minutes of the race. I was riding stronger than I had in the 15 minute time trial two days prior. I was, as we say, feeling wicked good. Shortly after, a good group of seven made their way up to us. I greeted them, "Welcome to the party, boys!" There was no response...they had to have been absolutely crushing it to get to us. I was pretty impressed (and happy to see more people) actually. Jurgen, a good friend and mentor, insisted that I rest a bit because I had been out front for so long. I did after he told me more sternly. Fast forward to mile 65: our break was now down to 6 and showing notable cracks in the foundation. We were all still working together, but the whole working thing went from "hard" to "whatever I can still do". It's a long day, being out front like that. I now understood. First up baby gap and I'm hurting. Clearly my shot at making a stage placing is out. On the descent, I was left with Alberto from Dealer.com, and a group comes flying by us. As the pass my brain makes a realization: "JOHAN IS IN IT. SHIT, I NEED TO GET UP THERE." I barely have enough to catch onto their group and immediately get to work. Johan is going for a top placing and this group is a couple minutes back as the remaining distance dwindles. I put it all on the line, as I know with 10-15 miles to go there are a couple short uphills that will likely end my day. I tell Johan that the next uphill will likely see me getting dropped, and sure enough it does.

The rest of my race goes as follows: get caught by group, get dropped on uphill. I'm SPENT. I eat/drink every last thing in my pockets. Drink a Coke on the final feed zone within 100 meters. 5 miles of (mostly) climbing and then I finish.

The rest of the important part of the day goes as follows: Johan's group makes its way to the leaders. The large group doesn't work together at all. Johan tries to get people to help out. Proceeds to tell everyone to "please go away" in a not-so-pleasant way, because no one is being agreeable, and attacks. He rides solo with a lead into Baby Gap. He is eventually caught by a mere 3 other riders, taking FOURTH (WOOOHOO!!) on the day. He would be in 3rd GC after the "Queen Stage". Everyone on the team makes the time gap, and we live for....

Johan's call up. With Grinta! clearly showing a serious presence.

Day 4: Criterium. Hard, technical, uphill, downhill. In one word (if I were fit): "FUN". In one word (today): "ohshit" haha. Today would, in theory, be for 2 things: 1) get me the sprint jersey and hopefully a top placing on the stage. 2) keep Johan on the GC podium and hope even that first or second might lose time. One of those theories held. Someone slammed into me at the start and, bending my derailleur hanger, I went from second row to last few riders. My shifting was now off, and accelerating was showing an unhappy drivetrain. I had to pit twice, and nearly needed to get a new bike from the pit. But, thanks to SRAM Neutral Support's diligence, I was back in the race. At this point I was toast and was in survival mode. I was no bit on top of my game. I wasn't riding smart or strong. I tried to get up near the front of the pack but failed. I ended up surviving the day and both Reid and Johan did incredible work. Johan would hold onto 3rd place GC and make the entirety of our weekend worth it all!

The Squad. Tired, but happy.

It was nice to seriously ride with/for a team for the first time since I started racing. Thanks, Grinta, for having me. It was a fun and enjoyable weekend. Next year, I won't be finishing 48th of 53....that's for sure!