I rolled out of bed this morning not all that refreshed, but definitely ready to get racin'. I've been anxiously awaiting this race just as I have every race this season and I wanted the hurting to begin ASAP. I downed a bagel, some Gatorade, and Wheaties before we packed up the car and drove out to Walton Middle School, where the race would be assembled. I registered inside, then set up my trainer and went through my warmup.


At 9a, they assembled the Cat 5 field and we rolled out about two miles to where the real racing would begin. I chatted it up with Ken Young (PoWER) and Michael Randers-Pehrson (Racing Union). I was the only one of the guys in the front who'd had a chance to see the course. They brought us to a stop at the start/finish line, gave us a few more instructions, then sent us on our way.

From the gun, it was clear this one would start at least like all the training races: slow. With Cat. 5 racing no one wants to pull ever and there are no teammates, so it makes for slow "racing" in the early going. Of course, I wasn't going to be satisfied with 30 miles of spinning. For me to win, it needs to be 30 miles of hell, so I started to roll a little bit.

For the first few miles, I was on the front slowing ramping up the pace. When we got to the first climb of the day, guys started getting a little more chipper and I didn't have to do all the pace-making. But I was feeling great and went on the attack, riding up the long, but gradual climb very fast. The only guy to go with me was Ken and we had ourselves a little break. We hit the descent at top speed and then Ken took a brief pull. When I started to pull again, I looked round and realized we were caught already! I had been thinking we could sustain the break for the whole race, but there we were all together again.


For the rest of that first lap, I spent far more time on the front that I should since I was committing to stay with the pack at least until we reached ten miles. But there was a lot of jostling around and no effective moves, so mainly it served to get everyone's legs crankin'.

Just after coming through the start/finish line, Ken and I were still riding on the front. There were several rollers before the big climb and they looked like they were doing the trick on the pack. We certainly weren't blowing the field to bits, but I was happy that they were working hard as well. Going up the large hill, I threw down a hard pull to see if I could again make a gap form. This time everyone that was strong went with me and I eased up at the top. I was starting to get annoyed with myself for pulling so darn much. But I just didn't know how else I was supposed to make thing tough.

We took the descent in single file at 45 mph. I was comfortable and happy that the descending wasn't giving me trouble. Carrying some of that speed into the next couple of rollers, we started to work on the front a bit. Ken and I broke off just enough that another guy pulled through to go with us. I started shouting, "Go, go, we've got three! We've got three," and we were off. Blake Walker a UVA rider, and Caleb Walton came with us. We only rode a few rotations and the guys didn't seem to understand what I was hoping for and we were slowly coming back to the field. I was having none of it and laid out the biggest attack I could muster. It worked.


Ken followed with me and we started to do some real damage. The gap wasn't huge, but with all the rollers on the back half of the course, it was enough to keep us out of quick reach. Ken and I were working decently well at that point and taking good pulls. His weren't quite as quick as I wanted and I complained a little bit. I was glancing back a lot and didn't really like how close everyone seemed. I started pulling harder and then begging Ken to take a pull. The response: "I'm spent man." I had to keep giving him a ride at least for the time being in hopes that he could rest enough to give me some respite later in the race. Going up the rollers after the line, it was clear I'd be doing most of the work and I was mad.

I was thinking to myself how much it would suck to deliver him hand-wrapped to the line and deliver the Jefferson Cup for him. And for a sprinter like him, letting him draft for ten miles would be that ticket. I started yelling at him a bit and begging for a pull. When we made it to the top of the long climb without him so much as falling off my wheel for a second, I was livid. He wouldn't pull and yet he could ride up my tail! Oooh, I was mad. I started thinking of every way I could shake him. I had to I figured, or else all this work would have been for naught.

I attacked on hills and he followed. I descended all out, he followed. I even started weaving about on the road to shake him off and yet, he followed. Eventually he took a few pulls but unfortunately they weren't over 20 mph and that wasn't going to cut it. We could still see the pack behind us and they were closing.


Within the last five miles, I went for a swig of juice and then put it back in the cage. Ken went for his bottle shortly after and as soon as he did, I went after it. Well, he tossed his bottle off the side of the road and hopped right back on my wheel. I was stuck! Just after a descent on the back half, I started looking back more regularly and noticed that Blake and Caleb were working together to bridge up to us. They were, of course, doing a much better job of cooperating than Ken and I were and it was pretty clear they were going to reel us in. I did all I could to keep that from happening, but eventually the miles of pulling had taken their toll.

Coming round the final turn, about two miles from the finish, they had us and we rode to the finish as a group of four. The final miles are a "false-flat" just slightly rising upwards enough to make turning a big gear difficult. Our pace slowed a ton in that last bit as no one wanted to lead everyone out to the line. I had to chuckle just a bit as I quietly slipped my chain up to the big ring--we were going to sprint! I was terrified of being relegated to fourth and I wanted to be ready. I started weaving back and forth across the road to see if I could get someone else to lead and eventually Ken took the bait.


The pace got gradually faster until the finish line was in sight. Once that happened, Ken stood up and the chase was on. The sprint really took off 50 yards from the line and I rode as hard as absolutely possible. The result was wonderful. I pulled past Ken in the last few meters and took the first road win of my young career. It was awesome. As soon as I crossed the line, I yelled, "YES!! . . . Oh, thank God." I was so relieved to have won after being caught.


I chatted a bit with Ken, Blake and Caleb and they were great guys. Caleb can't be sixteen and he was riding in his first road race. I was impressed. Jess and I spent the rest of the day touring Monticello and mostly just making me really tired from walking around. But it was a great time and we finished up our touring just in time to head back to the racecourse, pick up my prizes and see the finish of the Pro/1/2 race. My prizes were cool. Since Cat. 5's never win money, I got a medal, the famous chocolate bunny given away at this race, and of course, a Jefferson Cup! It's a small pewter cup engraved with the race and date. A nice prize to be sure.

As for the race, the organization was absolutely terrific with the exception of how long it took to post results. I had a blast and getting the win was so much fun. I'm desperate to cat up though as I want to race with the "Big Boys" as soon as possible. I want to accomplish more.