The Gila was touted as a "pure climbers" race, with the entire race bible dedicated to accurately describing the difficulty of all the ascents. Meanwhile Mt Hood unassumingly snuck much steeper and longer climbing into every stage. Mt Hood was the true "climbers" race with the Gila being a fat-man's course in comparison. The ominous presence of a snow covered Mt Hood loomed over every stage of the race as a constant reminder of the painful parcours.
Mt Hood was my second stage race in the span of two weeks. Following the Gila, I wasn't sure if I would be dragging or flying on the pedals. I'd had enough rest between the races, but I had never tried to stretch my form over so many consecutive race weeks. To reduce the number of racing categories, the organizers combined the Cat 2 and 3 fields. We were scored separately for each stage and the overall GC, but it still made for some really hard racing, as our peleton was powered by Cat 2s ready to make the jump to Cat 1/Pro. Right away Nate and I decided the best strategy was just to sit on wheels the entire race and ride the Cat 2 train to Cat 3 victory. Choo choo!
Stage 1, Cooper Spur Circuit Race. 61 miles, 8000 feet of climbing. Summit finish at Cooper Spur Resort.
The course profile was 9 miles up and 9 miles down. 9 miles of torture followed by 9 miles of relief. Repeat 3 times, with an extra 9 miles back up the climb to the finish. An evil person designed this course.
Right from the gun the pace was hard. We were doing 15-25mph up 10% grades, my heart rate was pegged just to hang on. By the end of the first lap our field was split in half, with each subsequent lap reducing it by another 50%. Each time we started our 9 mile ascent I thought I was going to get dropped, yet my legs kept coming back for more. By the time we started our final ascent into Cooper Spur, there were less than 30 left in the field, and I knew I would shake-out a top placing on the GC. With 3k to go I was popped from the group, and finished 58 seconds down in 13th place. Nate passed me on the climb (of course) to finish an amazing 3rd overall.
Stage 2, Columbia Gorge ITT. 18 miles, 2000 feet of climbing.
Our time trial started at 2pm, in 95 degree heat. It was flat for the first 5 miles then nothing but climbing and descending for the final 13. I knew I wouldn't lose time or my placing on the GC, but I really wanted to move up in fear of the intense climbing of the following stage.
Within the first 5 miles I caught and passed my 30 second-man and then spent the rest of the race trying to catch my minute-man. I felt strong the entire TT, so when I saw the 5k to-go sign, I let myself drift so I could finish strong in the last 3k. Except the 3k to-go marker never came, nor did the 1k to-go. I saw the finish line banner at 400 meters, screamed out "FUCK!" and sprinted across the line. I probably lost at least 30 seconds letting my pace slide for the final 5km, as I finished with too much gas left in my tank. 16th in the TT and I moved up to12th overall. Nate finished 24th and moved down to 10th overall.
Stage 3, Wy'East Road Race. 72 miles, 8000 feet of climbing. Summit finish at Mt Hood Resort.
With temps once again reaching 95 degrees, the penultimate stage of the tour was an epic death march to the top of Mt Hood. From the gun we started climbing and I was immediately put into the pain cave, thinking I would get dropped at any moment. I continued to feel this way until the first feed zone where the pace finally slowed down, my legs recovered and I was able to move to the front of the pack to actually participate in the race (instead of just hanging on for dear life).
On the drive up to Hood River, Nate and I checked the last half of the course from our car. The final 50 miles were all uphill, with the last 8 being fairly steep and the closing 2 through the finish being super steep. So all day I knew what was coming at the end of the race; an all-out showdown the last 10 miles up to Mt Hood Resort.
And of course that is exactly what happened. As soon as we made the final right-hand turn onto Highway 35, some jackass attacked and the pack absolutely exploded. I was about 5 riders from the front when this happened after 1 mile of barley hanging on, my legs gave out and I got pooped out the back of the pack. Fortunately by this point the lead pack I got shot out of was only about 20 riders large, with the rest of the field scattered much further down the climb. So I put my head down, and slid as deep as I ever have into the pain cave for the rest of the race. All I had to do was limit my losses, as I just focused on keeping the lead riders within my sights.
At this point I realized I hadn't seen Nate for a long time. I assumed he was ahead of me in the lead group, but I had my doubts. Halfway up the climb a car passed me and I heard some guy inside mumble, "Hey there's another Cyclepaths rider!" Uh oh – either I was climbing better than I ever have before, or Nate is behind me having problems.
With 2 miles to go, from seemingly out of nowhere, Nate appeared next to me. He had flatted right before the decisive climb and had been chasing for last 15 miles, what a super stud. We were within striking distance of a group of 6 riders, including the yellow jersey so Nate started pouring on the speed up the final ascent. My efforts on the climb thus far had made me legally retarded, and all I could do was glare at his rear wheel and mash the pedals to stay with him. It probably took several years off the end of my life, but I managed to somehow hang with Nate as we caught and passed the 6 riders within the last kilometer. The last few hundred meters across the finish were sheer agony. I rode over the line and directly into a snow-bank, where I laid down in the cold dirt-laden snow for several minutes, recovering from my attempted suicide.
I came around Nate in the final 400 meters for 10th on the day, officially beating him for the first time in my life up a climb. Now I know the secret is to flat one of his tires. We moved up on the GC to 7th and 8th overall.
Stage 4, Downtown Hood River Crit. 50 minutes
When we first arrived in Hood River, we previewed this course by driving around it a few times. It featured a finish line atop a steep hill, followed by a twisty 120 degree turn downhill and another 4 corners climbing back up to the line. As soon as I saw the complexity of the course, I knew I could win this race. And like Babe Ruth pointing to distant spot on the outfield before his home runs, I called it spot on.
From the gun all I did was focus on staying in the top 10 of the field. Years of ski racing, video games and chasing Gregg Betonte down Donner Summit have given me the ability to handle my bike like an extra limb. Plus I have a death wish, with no regard to my or my fellow racers safety – so I do really well on scary courses like Downtown Hood River.
Every few laps there was a crash on the 120 degree turn, so the effort to stay at the front proved to be worth it. I kept clipping my pedals through the corkscrew downhill, and eventually the crowd caught on to my scary riding. Some guy started yelling at me each lap, "don't clip yer pedal!" With 10 laps to go and a smile on my face I knew for certain I had this race wrapped up. On the final lap sitting in 2nd position, there was a crash in one of the final turns. I scream "GO" to the rider in front and we took it all the way to line. I couldn't make it around him at the finish, but he was a Cat 2, and I was a Cat 3. So while I finished in 2nd place overall, I officially won the Cat 3 race.
Nate had crashed in one of the final laps and broke his frame, but still retained his 7th placing overall. I finished 8th overall, taking home a stage win and a huge purse of 80 American dollars. Enough winnings to almost pay for one tank of gas. To top off a great week of racing, my bike fell off the roof of our car on the way home and broke too. Bike racing is awesome, fucking punishingly, bitter-sweetly awesome.
Article was last edited on Wednesday, August 6th, 2008 @ 2:26 PM
