I was planning on being a super-fan Sherpa for my hill-climb-extraordinaire fiance this weekend, but when Robbie found a couple of people selling their registrations for cheap just a few weeks before d-day I was talked into actually racing. Registering late was definitely a good thing because I didn't have the time to compulsively obsess over how to lighten my bike up. Even so I ended up changing out my crankset, removing the front derailleur & FD hanger, rear brake, 1 bottle cage, and probably would have even gotten rid of my bar tape had my fiance not given me the 'are you goddamn serious' facial expression. Thank you for the reality check, Lane.
After a very cozy night in a cigarette smoke scented apartment we (AJ Camelio, Robbie, Lane and I) made our way through rainstorms to the base of Mt. Washington. We hadn't picked up our registrations before race day, so we got there fairly early to get settled. Fast forward through lightening, betting on whether or not the race would be postponed to the following day, and staring blankly at the gray sky, the MC announced that the race would be delayed two hours but that better weather was on the way. Phew!
Our quartet had all managed to register in the "top notch" category, so we lined up with the first wave. We were all set to start together, when the MC started doing call-ups and announced Lane with her hill climbing accolades, which was very cool (and also provided more evidence as to who the better cyclist in the relationship is). After 5-10 more minutes of listening/waiting/chatting with friends/meeting Fred Marius the cannon went off and we were off.
Side note: it seems to me that every person I meet on Minuteman is incredibly nice, which is especially impressive given that the team is open to all. Except for Robbie. That guy sucks
.One other benefit of a late registration is that my only goal was to ride hard and not blow up, so I decided to hold a power that I was confident that I could sustain for the whole climb. After that cannon blast the front few waves sprinted out of the gate, and unlike my usual hyper-competitive self, I was happy to let them go. The rest of my race proceeded somewhat uneventfully until the finish with two exceptions
1) Somewhere between 4k & 4.5k feet I started to feel the altitude and my power dropped a bit
2) 5.5 miles into the race a rocket ship wearing a New England Devo kit blew past me. I tried to hop on the wheel but needed to hold 410 watts to stay there. Nope nopety nope nope nope. The rocket ship is 19 years old, named Drake Deueueueueueuel, and he is the real deal.
The finish is by far the most fun part of this race, and not just because that means it's over. Since you're required to have a ride down there are just as many spectators as riders! The result is that the last two turns of the race are lined with spectators screaming encouragement. This is the closest I'll ever be to the cheers at Alpe d'Huez, and it is amazing.
Lane's parents had brought an epic smorgasbord of post race snacks to the summit, so we spent the next two hours gorging ourselves on belgian waffles with nutella, muffins, chips & hummus, and other foodstuffs while we waited for the last riders to finish so we could drive down the hill.
All in all it was a great day. Lane finished 3rd in her age group and 5th overall female while I finished 9th overall, and 9th in my age group in 1:02:12
Miscellaneous thoughts:
- My gearing was 26 front with 11-30 rear. They say that 1:1 is optimal, but I had more than that and it was glorious.
- The race director emails tell you to show up at 6:30 if you haven't gotten your number the day before. This is hogwash. 7 is the earliest you need to arrive.
- Tell your Sherpa to leave the car unlocked at the summit so if you can't find them/they can't find you when you finish you can still get your change of clothes and food
