The John Lieswyn Diary 2000The Zinger Cycling ChallengeBoulder-Breckenridge, CO, July 15, 2000 140 miles, 6 climbs, several above 11,000 feet altitude Pre Race I flew in for this race for three reasons: 1) because it is destined to be a classic and I wanted to do it and finish it at least once in my riding career 2) to score US Pro and National Race Calendar points 3) it sounded really cool. Due to the altitude and the fact that last week I was racing in Dayton Ohio instead of acclimatizing in Colorado, my boss figured it wasn't a good bet to send me. So I suggested that if I placed top 5 I'd be proving him wrong about that, and he could reimburse me for the airfare. He laughed, but didn't say no. So while I felt that top ten would be a good finish I was hoping for a high altitude miracle. My preparation the week before the race was only slightly better than the week before Dayton: more unpacking, cleaning, getting situated in our new home. Tuesday night I worked 3 straight hours with safety glasses, a mask and a Dremel grinder customizing the 1920's stone laundry tub so I could fit a modern drain to it. It worked out and I was able to install the washer and do laundry! Yeah. I actually made the effort to call Frank McCormack of Saturn for training rides (he lives in nearby Leicester) but was only able to leave messages. So I set out for 1 to 2 hour rides each day on my own, exploring my immediate surroundings. The abundance of roads in Massachussetts is a cyclists' dream. Forests, lakes, and quiet country lanes are all over the place! Somehow, despite the upcoming big event and the awesome roads, I couldn't seem to make my legs go fast. I just toodled around in the small chainring each ride. I rationalized my lack of hard training as necessary rest after crushing myself for Eric last week in Dayton. After the first on-time United flight in my recent memory, I arrived in Denver to be greeted by my ex-roomate from Ventura and Canadian friend Guy McInnis. He would be handling the managers meeting and driving in the caravan for Shaklee at the Zinger. We drove up to Boulder and stayed with my teammate, track star Colby Pearce. Saturday morning, race day It seems that Shaklee will only be fielding Colby and I today. The field contained my competitors for the NRC title (winner goes to the World Championships) Trent Klasna and Eddy Gragus. Notably absent is US Pro Tour leader Gord Fraser. Mercury does have 8 men to support their climbing star and Zinger favorite Scott Moninger. Navigators has two new Italian recruits here but their man will probably be New Zealander Brendan Vesty, and the Jelly Bellys will be working for Gragus. Several top mountain bikers are here riding on composite teams. Almost to a man, everyone either lives at altitude or has been here several weeks to acclimatize. As we roll out of Boulder on the neutral start, Trent and I discuss our chances. He says he's super nervous: he knows he's not acclimatized but he'd like to do well anyway. I can tell by a few of his comments that he has been convinced that the altitude will kill his chances. I'm always optimistic, so I'm not thinking that way. On the first climb, Klasna, Vesty and Collingwood (Jelly Belly) attack and begin building a gap that grows to nearly 8 minutes by the time the rest of us crest Coal Creek Canyon and turn onto the Peak to Peak Highway. Mercury decides enough is enough and go to the front to set a steady, hard tempo. The $5000 prime in Blackhawk (a gambling town) is won by Vesty, who has dumped his breakaway mates. Now Vesty has to finish the race to be able to claim the prize. Climbing out of Central City on "Oh My God Road" the field comes to pieces and about 80 of the 120 starters are dropped, soon to be forced to abandon as they fall more than 15 minutes behind. We descend to Idaho Springs on a dirt road, and young mountain biker Jess Swiggers drops us all and builds a 2 minute lead. My teeth feel like they are going to fall out as I try to relax and let my front wheel find the best line on it's own. The trick is to only make corrections to avoid big rocks and potholes, and keep your upper body loose. Back on pavement at the bottom, the front group quickly re-forms. Christian VandeVelde (a DNS at the Tour de France due to a spider bite!) is sick but goes to the front to chase for his composite team. I'm just hanging on for all I'm worth, and we aren't even halfway yet. As we near the base of Guanella Pass the temperature falls steadily from the 90 degree Boulder heat down to the 60's. Lightning flashes in the dark clouds ahead. We turn onto the climb and still VandeVelde is hammering. For a long couple of minutes I'm repeating to myself "you can do it, hang on, hang on" and then I realize if I keep pushing this hard on a ten mile long climb, I'm going to blow to bits. Not five minutes after losing contact with the lead group of 6 (which includes Saturn's Chris Wherry, the mountain bike Swenson brothers, and Scott Moninger), it begins to rain and I see VandeVelde standing astride his bike, pulling on a rainjacket and saying to the riders around me that he's heading home. Had enough. Gragus and I are with Mercury's Floyd Landis and Chris Horner, and we are all no more than 30 seconds behind the lead group. One after another we accelerate at the front and soften each other up. One minute I'm swinging at the back, then Floyd is dropped, then I feel good and get Horner on the ropes. Gragus fades. The rain is now falling in sheets and I call Guy up in the car to grab a thermal vest. With 2 km to go Horner is dropped, and Floyd is killing me. I'm in my lowest gear, a 39x23 and hoping that the muddy dirt road doesn't get any steeper. It does and I have to let Floyd go. With just 500 meters to go I'm thinking I can make a big effort and catch Floyd but instead I absolutely detonate and lose about a minute to him. Over the 11,500 foot summit there's a good size crowd, despite the horrendous weather, and some of them are handing out newspaper to insulate your chest from the cold on the descent. I'm pretty warm with my thermal vest and a thin rainjacket, so I start on down the mountain. This is where the race really began to hurt. The road was so badly washboarded out, so rough, that every muscle in body screams at me as I try to hang on. If you've ever been downhill skiing you know what I'm feeling mentally now. You know how your legs demand for a stop every so often, and you recollect yourself and start again? Here my arms, back, and neck are calling for a breather but I can't take one. For probably 30 minutes my superlight carbon Cane Creek wheels bounce over the road, transmitting all the shocks into my upper body. Amazingly they hold up, as do my Vittoria tubular tires. Floyd flats twice, and repasses me after each wheel change. At the bottom I catch him as we start onto a paved highway, but I'm so wrecked that I can't seem to get any power to the pedals. I call for the neutral support and get a bottle of chain lube, which I apply while riding to quell the squeaking and stiff links in my chain. Floyd and I are about 2 minutes behind the leaders, and 2 minutes ahead of Horner and Bowen (Saturn). As the road begins to steepen again, I have to let Floyd go. In hindsight, he makes a big mistake in dropping me here, for over the next 40 miles the two of us fight cold rain and wind on a fairly flat, wide highway. By ourselves. Together we could have given each other rest and closed on the 4th and 5th place riders, who have been dropped by Wherry, Swenson and Moninger. Behind me the ones and twos are grouping up into a pack of five, including Brendan Vesty and Will Frishkorn (Mercury). Do you remember the bad guy from Terminator 2? He's made of liquid metal, and when Arnold blows him away in some industrial building all the droplets begin to congeal and reform. That's what I was thinking about as I got reports on the group behind me. Despite my fear of being caught, I resolutely carried on and the time splits grew: 2:30, 3:15, 4:45. An official car carrying my old Coors Light teammate and former 7 Eleven star Ron Kiefel drove alongside or behind me much of this hour of the race, and I rode harder because Ron was there. Ron and Roy were the two nicest and most helpful guys on Coors Light, back in '92 & '93. I turned out of Fairplay and started up the final ascent: Hoosier Pass. Halfway up the pass I was closing to within a minute of Floyd. The cold and wind hadn't bothered me up until this point, and I upshifted into a higher gear and gave it all I had. With about 2km to the summit I called for more clothes from the car. During the struggle to get into my armwarmers and vest I lost my rhythm and lost sight of Floyd. At the top I actually stopped to zip up because with the wind and my numb fingers I think I would have crashed had I attempted to zip up while riding. The descent was probably the worst experience of my life. I couldn't think clearly (had I been able to I would have stopped again to don more clothing). The brake pads were absolutely gone. My teeth chattered so hard that my jaw is still sore right now on Tuesday as I type this. Relying on experience and instinct to stay upright, all I could think about was "10 miles descent to the finish, 30 mph average, how many minutes is that? 20 minutes. OK. I've been going how long? 5 or 10? OK. Say 15 minutes to go. I can make that." Every now and then a patch of die hard spectators clapped, screamed, or rang bells at me as I passed. Entering Breckenridge (with race winner Moninger having finished 20 minutes earlier) I crossed the line to begin the final 1km lap through town. I was so cold I couldn't even turn my head to look behind me. I didn't think I could have lost nearly 5 minutes to my pursuers on the descent, but apparently Frishkorn was just 9 seconds behind me and chasing fiercely. At the finish I dropped my bike, and the shakes started in earnest. Blue-faced, I was assisted into the front seat of Colby's warm Jeep, and Guy drove me to the house of a local resident who generously welcomed me into her home for a long hot bath. 7th place. Not top 5, but not bad either. Just 20 finishers of 120 starters. And a good enough ride to move me up to 3rd in the US Pro tour standings. Until next week... |
