My First Race

I wish I had written down the details of my first race.  I didn’t and therefore the memories are now hazy if not gone at all.  I know I didn’t win anything and I didn’t  crash or do otherwise noteworthy things.  

I did however have the chance to witness another riders’ first race.  I decided to write it down cause I have a feeling that the rider will not do so and be in the same fix I am in later on.  Last Saturday…March 2nd,  Isabella Isaksen and I left Fayetteville at about 7:30.  We arrived at the Carve Spring Classic near Little Rock, some 4 hours later after taking a wrong turn and then spotting a car loaded with road bikes and followed it to the assembly area.  Signed up and went for the duty warm-up ride.  Her field was about 17 Cat 4 riders.  They all looked like seasoned riders.   They all rode the latest carbon fiber, best grupo equipped and fastest bikes.  Yikes…she was going to have her hands full.  As a 14 year old Junior Rider she was locked out of the gears necessary to push at high limits.  Actually, she was on a make up aluminum, 7 speed, mid 1990’s Cannondale.  We had modified it from a down tube shifter to a Shimano 105 and since she was a Junior she could only have a 52-14 gear setup.  The only front Cranks we could find were a used Triple Set.  Oh well, when she gets to the elite ranks maybe she can buy the latest and best.

As we formed for the start, I noticed she still had her repair kit attached.  Rookie mistake of caring unnecessary weight.  Still we had no back up wheels in the wheel van, but what the heck, if she flatted she would probably be out anyway…the race was a 1 loop of 26 miles so chances of getting back on a lost group were slim and none.  I told her to start out in the middle ring and stay with the leader as long as possible and be prepared for attacks.  They would come.  They came at about 9 miles into the wind.  She was dropped along with about 4 others.  Trying very hard to regain the pack was to no avail.  After a series of quick turns she lost sight of the lead group of about 12 riders.

As she crossed the finish line, there was no cheering from the crowd.  It was a beautiful sunny day with a breeze of about 10-15 mile crossing wind.  I think only the riders were out this day since there were so few support people at the finish.  Seemed like Officials only.

I cruised my usual last place ride in the Cat 5’s and came back to the car to find Izzy.  I noticed that the front crank was still in the middle ring.  I said “I hope you rode in the big ring most of the way (it was a VERY FLAT course).”  She retorted, “Oh, I forgot to shift that gear”.  I envisioned her pedaling like a Singer Sewing Machine…going like hell all in one place.  

I decided to see in what place she finished.  Back to the line and the Officials.  They said she was the first to cross the line in Cat 4.  WHAT???  Seems the lead group took a wrong turn and when Izzy and her group had the same decision she took the correct turn.  Beat them by more than a minute.

What would have happened if she was in the big ring and staying with the lead group?  THAT would be another story.  I think I know her athletic ability enough to say that if it came to a sprint with others she would have still been No. 1.  She was more than a little embarrassed at the whole ordeal but that is racing.  Win Some, Lose Some.  Take the win, cause someday it may be you who takes the wrong turn.  We will see the same riders in a couple of weeks at the Hell’s Kitchen.  I am placing the money on her to repeat.

We arrived back at Fayetteville at about 7:30…What a great 12 hours!  You should have been there.  Neal Picken