Kennebunks Tour de Cure

 

The Kennebunks Tour de Cure is a one-day celebration bringing together cyclists of all ages and levels. With five route length options anyone can participate. All routes, except the 5K follow Maine’s scenic coastline, featuring rocky coves, sandy beaches and breath-taking vacation homes, all in the bicycle-friendly community of Southern Maine. The routes range from a family-friendly 5K on low traffic neighborhood roads to a challenging 100- mile Century ride that includes hilly terrain and the rolling farmlands of York County. All routes include rest stops with refreshments, mechanical support, and medical volunteers to fuel and cheer your journey. Following your ride, celebrate at the post ride festival, which includes lunch and live entertainment. For more information and route maps, please visit the website at www.diabetes.org/kennebunkstourdecure.

 

Jamestown Classic Race Report – Oct 28, 2012 – Jamestown, RI

Submitted by Hank Pfeifle:

Jamestown was a nice way to conclude the 2012 road racing season. We had a good turnout with John Liston in the 55+, Ron Bourgoin, Ta Herrera, Carl Hitchcock and me in the 45+, Mark Caron, Joe Lynch and Christian Muentener in the 35+, and Kevin Hays in the 4’s. There were about 55 people in each class of the 2 lap 38 mile race. The course is pretty much a Saturday Morning Ride flat one but with a tricky big ring hill at a mile to go that concludes with a flat top and then a sweeping 3 corner descent to the finish. It’s quick!

35+: The importance of teamwork, team reputation and individual reputation proved their worth in this race. The race was an attack fest from the get-go (Bill Shattuck is an Energizer bunny), but Mark Caron corralled all initial break attempts keeping things under controlled until things stacked our way. However, with a side wind and narrow roads things started going really ballistic the first time approaching the lighthouse (about 14 miles into the race). Strongmen Ciaran Mangan, Max Lippolis and Monte Frank managed to escape and our Joey was quick to recognize this threat/opportunity and hustled to try and bridge over. His main man, Christian, catches the threat/opportunity drift a little late but that only increases his sense of urgency. Around the lighthouse bend he whirls and with centrifugal force slingshots toward Joey (our Joey!). With speed and strength born of SMR front riding, he is soon up to Joe and then in front of Joe and then, with the supreme sacrifice worthy of a Longfellow poem, Christian gives his last 20 seconds of energy to the chase and launches Joe who finishes the bridge and latches onto the back of Ciaran’s wheel. Oh what sacrificial nobility and my hands tremble with teammate-al reverence as I write these words. Meanwhile, the break-away guys were very happy with this outcome because they wanted Joe in the break for the dual purpose of a) employing his proven strength and b) having an OA guy in the break would negate having the OA team chase their butts down. It worked and when Skip Foley also joined the group, they were away for good. Nice heads up riding and exceptional teamwork.

45+: No breaks in this race although there were plenty of attempts. Anticipating a group finish coming out of the lighthouse, our pre-race plan was to set things up for Ron – Mr. Finisher (also defending champion). After the lighthouse, there was a two man attempted break going down the road. Ta and another guy had separated from the field and were working to bring the break back. Carl and Ron were near the front waiting to be towed up to the break. Meanwhile, I saw all this while wanking at the back of the pack. No worries, I tiptoed up along the yellow line and, carrying good speed, launched away from the pack, through Ta and up to the two guys (one being Jim Nash, winner of the 50+ Battenkill). Now we had a guy in the break and now the pack would get very serious about chasing us and now Ron & Carl could sit and rest while being towed by the reenergized pack. We in the break were very motivated to get up the hill, across the flat and headed down toward the finish before getting caught. Being caught in the middle of a hard charging pack towards the finish is no bueno. We hit the hill with about a 100 yard lead. We got to the top of the hill corner with about a 20 yard lead – gulp! I looked down at my now less than tan legs but which still glistened nicely with sweat in the low autumn sunlight, and willed them to spin ever faster. And they did but not fast enough as guys started to whiz by, principle among them being Ron. Golly, the guy can go when he smells the finish line where he was half a wheel from repeating as champ. Carl and Ta managed to bring it home safely and avoided the “big one” which occurred in one of the corners.

John and Kevin also concluded the season in one piece, again, no easy feat as there was another crash with flying bodies just yards from the 4’s finish line. Lesson from this? Keep your head up in the final sprint!

Quabbin Reservoir Classic Road Race – Ware, MA – Masters 50+ – Apr 28, 2012

By Hank Pfeifle:

Yesterday 120 or so topnotch 50+ age group riders from throughout the Northeast gathered for the 2012 Quabbin 65 mile undulating road race around Quabbin reservoir in central Massachusetts. It was as big and talented a field as you would find for any national or world event.  The race is a “balloon” course with the start/finish road being the “tail” located in the reservoir park and a clockwise course around the reservoir. The left side and top of the clock is rolling uphill, and the right side of the clock is downhill. The hill at the top of the course is fairly big; it crests and goes downhill a bit, and then turns 90 degrees right onto a small road that descends for about 3-4 miles. This narrow descent is not that steep and is a fun part of the race. It dumps onto a bigger road that leads to a park and then into a town. From the town you exit onto a larger road and soon head uphill. This is a testing uphill followed by a good run-out descent, a short flat section and then a left hand turn back onto the “tail”. A half mile onto the tail you turn right into the Quabbin park. The park road is about 3 kilometers long and goes flat about .5k, gradual uphill .5k, flat 1k and uphill at 4-5% for the last 1k. Tricky.

Quabbin is a race where patience is required. The field easily stays together through to the town of Ware at about the 50 mile mark.  It was important to make sure nothing happened on the uphills, but the hills before town were all done at tempo pace. The road was packed side to side with people. No screaming single file hard charging lines. Ho-hum. So people pretty much sit in and try to save their legs. We lost maybe 30 guys. There is a very fun descent from mile 45 into town and there were a flurry of attacks as the descent leveled off before town, but nothing stuck. The only effort I made was at the top of the last hill before the descent where I got to the front in order to be one of the first guys onto the winding downhill. No problem there.

Coming out of town things got serious as it was time to break up the field. I flew up the two part, fairly long climb immediately after town hoping to draw the strong legs with me and establish a break of 5 guys or so. No takers. Ok, I’ll solo to the finish. No to that, too, as the dwindled pack of about 50 gobbled me up at the moderately inclined final peak. So my push up the hill did accomplish half of its goal in that it did reduce the field to a more manageable 50 riders. Just as the catch of me was made, Anthony Felitte of the always aggressive and astute Keltic team, sprung away on a solo flyer. And everyone watched him go.

Soon we were heading quickly and en mass downhill. Surely the power of the descending pack will catch the lone escapee. Nope. We’ll catch him in the park …. As everyone looks around? “We’re riding for 2^nd ?” Jeff opines in my ear. Wait a second, I think. Guys fade all the time on the final climb on the Saturday morning ride. We catch them all the time. “Hop on, Jeff, we’re going”. We get a, ummm, good jump on the field and immediately hit full on bridging speed. I take Jeff across the 1k flat section and deposit him onto the base of the final 1k ascent. Off he goes with full vigor. I drift away and 3 hard charging guys zoom by in pursuit of Jeff. I latch onto them and wait as they drag me up to Jeff. Just as we catch him with about 500 meters to go, I spring away determined that this in my final launch to the finish line. Gotta go hard for 500 meters. For 200 meters things are cool. This may work. Then Skip Foley appears on my rear wheel. Skip’s a former pro football player – wider receiver, Wes Welker-ish … even looks like him. Soon he’s beside me. Then ahead of me. What’s with these former pro football and hockey players? Strong. Hey, I was a former pro runner. Anyway, I’m thinking “good. I’ll latch onto his wheel”. Then he starts inching away. Hummm .. maybe that’s why they get all the girls. 300 meters to go and now I’m thinking 3^rd is a respectable finish. 20 meters later Kevin Mosher inches by. Then Doug O’Neil. The Haluk Sarci. Uh-oh. Got to stop the bleeding. I punch it into the big ring and with 150 meters to go and dig like crazy. No pussy-footing. No wheezing into the finish. 100 meters to go. 6^th place goes by. 7^th. 8^th! Hey!!! Finally the finish and, I hate to say it, 9^th place goes by, too. 10^th. In the money but so disappointing when you’ve been ready to dine on bigger fare.

Jeff rode with a winning attitude all day long and made a good, good effort on that initial 500 meter grade to the finish, but the grade does eat up your legs and 1K at high intensity is a loooong way.  In retrospect we did not organize well as a team over the final 3k, but it was our first group test of the season like this and I think it will stand us in good stead in upcoming big races. Communication before and during the race needs to improve (me!) and I think our deep resource of talent will marshal itself to put one of us on the podium soon.

Tour of Battenkill – Cat 5/55+ (White) – Cambridge, NY – April 14, 2012

Jonathan Ayers:

Having been victim of a flat at the beginning of the first dirt road section (!!), I know exactly what Jeff means.  It was nice to have wheel car, but it took me a minute to realize it was 100% self-service, including finding the trunk handle, finding my wheel, etc, while the driver sat in his seat verifying that indeed I did have a wheel in the back. In addition, I assumed that it wasn’t going to be me who needed my wheel, but some other bozo (I had upgraded to tubulars for that very reason – “no flat” insurance), so I put a nice little paper tag tied to a string in the axle. As a result I had the pleasure of listening to flap, flap, flap for 57 miles on my old clincher. If that was not enough, I was worried the whole time – what if I got another flat?   I was now behind the wheel car, and had nothing, no spare for either tubular or clincher tire, no cell phone, nothing!.And 58 miles of Battenkill to go. In retrospect, I was very lucky.

OK, I had achieved my first objective – first through the covered bridge and first onto the dirt road.   But, I hadn’t travelled all this way to go on a charity ride. I knew I was stronger than most of the Cat 5 field, so .. . on my new hybrid wheel combo (two more different wheels you could hardly find), I found some undiscovered time trial skills – an hour at 98% of threshold (according to my power files) and caught up to the second group of five from the front at mile 28, after passing a bunch of Cat 5 stragglers that were of no help whatsoever. One rider even offered to work with me. Guess he couldn’t hang on with my first pull.

When I asked my new of buddies about who was ahead, they thought there were six. The next 16 miles was a big of a rest time with only a few pulls – I think the other Cat 5 55+ folks felt sorry for me having to climb back – of course I let them of my f__ flat.  Or maybe they weren’t experienced enough to get off the front too quick. Some guy (#596) pulled the whole way on Cheesecake (I was second), with its very loose rubble of a dirt road surface and absolutely no line out of it – with wind to top it off. That was painful – thank goodness for pavement again. When we turned back onto dirt on Wright’s road, it was head’s up and total concentration to negotiate the 3 – 4 inches of sand in several spots.   No way around it!  Slipping and sliding – just power, power, power. Was that also a hill? – I honestly don’t even remember.

Next was Meeting House Hill with its big rollers, more sand and dust everywhere. A car went by, and you couldn’t see it from behind – just dust. Head down, follow the guy in front of me. Go fast on the down hills, hope for the best.   We got to the top of the last hill and there was no one in sight behind us – just us two. Working together we had no intention of letting anyone catch us. Turn onto Stage Road, which I had scouted the day before – right after passing the second covered bridge. I liked this hill – packed dirt, nice incline – and long. Just my kind of hill. Cranking up it, I took the lead. I love hills, they give me new energy. And the pain disappeared. Wait, did I just past another one from my group? (#579 – appeared beat and broken)  No sense thinking about it now. Got to the fallen tree on the right 20 meters from the top – that was the sign to step on it (as Hank taught me during his training week). Lo and behold, looked back as I crested and my buddy 596 was nowhere to be seen. Hmm, not really a climber? (afterward he told me it was fatigue). OK, having read Hank’s report from last year, I knew it was time to take no chances. I would lose a sprint if it came down to that. Back to the time trial mode and the pain – down the hills peddling hard, taking the corners clean and fast, and then to the 3 miles of flats. It was at this point I learned how I could rest my elbows in the top bar and get REAL aero – easy to do since it was straight.   Sort of a relaxed upper body while the legs (actually feet) were in serious pain. Shut up feet! Do as I tell you! Around the corner to the last 400 meters – looked back – there was a guy that looked just like my buddy  -only 10 meters back. OK, I don’t sprint real well, but I do have power for 400 meters.      Through to the finish, clean. Actually, it wasn’t him after all – 579 ended up 35 seconds behind me.      No idea how I did until they reported – fifth! Satisfying . . . given the flat. Guess there were five in that first group with the one I passed (596 – came in seventh) on Stage Road Hill.

Upon inspection, my tubular tire had a nice, serious gash near the rim. Now, how the heck did that happen?

Thanks for all the coaching, guys. I am hooked for good now. And I learned a lot in an unexpected sort of way.

 

Tour of Battenkill – Masters 50+ – Cambridge, NY – April, 14, 2012

Masters 50+

Hank Pfeifle:

I think that the theme word to best describe this year’s Tour of the Battenkill is crazy, crazy, crazy. The successful negotiation of this year’s altered course required the utilization of all one’s bike riding and racing skills – strength, endurance, hill climbing, wind as your friend, multiple accelerations, close quarter riding, knowing the course, negotiating one’s way through a big pack, being at the front at decisive moments, patience, handling the bike through long stretches of 3” to 4” deep sand, avoiding rocks, closing gaps, pace lining, sprinting – did I leave anything out? Oh yeah – luck. If you didn’t have all those things going for you, a payday finish would be elusive. With the elimination of Joe Bean Hill there was concern that huge packs of 70 riders would attack the final climb up Stage Hill with 5 miles to go. Ha! As it turns out, no need to worry about that.

But before we get to the race I’d like to inform that the team made a return dinner trip to the Peppermill eating establishment in Bennington. Remember last year how a dark cloud formed over Fred’s head as he waited and waited for his serving of spaghetti? Well this year the staff was eager and able to please, and soon we were served our staple of fine food.  It did our hearts good to see the spaghetti slapping across Fred’s checks as he slurped the nutritious strands post haste readying their use to fuel the muscles that would propel him across the challenging Cambridge, NY countryside. Elbow to elbow with Fred sat Jeff, but instead of stray spaghetti splatter on his chin were rivulets of hamburger grease. Ahhh, red meat and the to be conquering athlete. May I also add that the rivulets were also running down his forearms. And lastly I must report that later that evening there was code red methane gas alert in room 160 at the Bennington Best Western!

So we were ready to race as were 3000 other guys under perfect racing conditions – clear skies and 65-70 degrees. Oh, boy. The best day of cycling all year. After 100 miles of riding in the rain and wind and 38 degrees, this was going to be cake. Not quite as we were soon to find out. Just like last year it was kind of a shock to ride in a huge pack of 136 starters. Think about it. On a good Saturday Morning Ride there are what 80 riders? You know how long that line looks.. Add on another 60 guys and it does impress as you survey the field. And like last year the initial 5 mile road opened up with a kilometer to go to the cover bridge. And yep, Jeff, Mike and I were in the front group going through the bridge and then barreling along the 1^st dirt section, up the first hill and onto the sandy Juniper Swamp Hill. All negotiated successfully with about 90 guys remaining.

From mile 13 through 28 things were pretty hunky dory. No big issues. Then we turned onto the Carney & Cassidy dirt road the concern level dialed way up. With the dry conditions the dirt road surfaces turned out to be very sandy and pebble strewn. People’s back wheels were spinning out, people were losing their line on the loose and deep sand, and this caused gaps to form in the strung out hard charging riders. Most of the gaps were closed but it was a preview of things to come as groups of inattentive people got chunked off. In quick & dusty succession we were on Safford Hill Road (hilly & loose), Cheese Factory Road (flat, dusty, loose, endless), Wrights Road (uh-oh, this is starting to add up) and then the back breaker Meetinghouse Road. This section definitely elicited an OMG!!! from all riders as the downhills, although slight, lead you into yards and yards of loose sand that twisted at the wheel and directed many into unintended directions. John Grenier’s sage pre-race advise to use a big gear and keep pedaling through the sand proved a life saver. That technique allowed one to keep momentum and overpower the forces of the sand. Those who tried to drift though the sand found themselves bound by its evil dictates and lost forward motion and the ability to properly steer their machines. When these poor souls finally recovered and looked up to see what’s going on, all they could was the shattered remnant of the once large pack. It was tricky and the best of riders got gobbled up by the road conditions.

I was almost one of the unfortunates as at one point I found myself some 200 meters behind the last of the lead guys. I was confronting one of those decisive moments in a race where you had to make it happen or all was lost. Fortunately, Meetinghouse Road closed with a half mile section where the middle of the road had a 4” hard surface. I pounced onto that and pounded full force into the pedals. I knew I had to get to the lead guys before the end of the road or it was curtains. Good fortune continued to shine on me, as up ahead in his own panic chase mode was Jeff. He cleared the road first and was but a few pedal strokes from latching back on. But 30 yards back was me yelling – Jeff! Jeff!! JEFF!!!! He heard me and now had an ethical dilemma to weigh – easily catch on to the lead group? Or wait for that d-bag Pfeifle (who should have been up here in the first place) and maybe not make it? Good on ya, Jeff, as he slowed to wait for me. He even offered some Jeff-ly encouragement – “Hurry the f**k up, Pfeifle!” . I did and he did and soon we were safely back with the 12 remaining leaders. Aside from winning, knowing you are in the winning break is THE most satisfying feeling in bike racing. Now we had to focus on winning and we two OA/Cyclemanics certainly had the horsepower to do that.

Off we sped with but about 30 meters of Meetinghouse dirt road remaining when disaster struck. Jeff flatted! A rock buried under the sand punctured his tire. It was as sad a deal as sad could be because Jeff was riding brilliantly. On we continued with the sneaky John Funk off of the front by about 30 seconds. We formed a good organized chase and worked to reel him in. Somewhere during this time we lost Dave Kellogg and Bill Thompson. Carl Reglar, Funk’s teammate, was not contributing to the chase, and the Canadian Sylvan Adams sat in for the last 14 miles. The rest of us shouldered on and by the top of stage Hill Funk was within catching distance. That’s when Reglar and Jim Nash made the moves of the day. Nash slowly accelerated and bridged over to Funk. Reglar, on Nash’s wheel, let him go and gapped the rest of us. We weren’t concerned as we figured we’d catch them on the run-in to town. No dice, as it turned out. Funk & Nash rode brilliantly to the end (with Nash grabbing the win) and our four man chase (and 2 wheel suckers) could not close the 8 second gap. Reglar earned a pass for not contributing to the chase as he was just doing his job. But the sit-on Canadian saw all respect for him dissolve as his fresh legs bagged the sprint for 3^rd. This year I held off a couple of guys and nabbed 5^th and almost came by Joe Rano at the line.

I’d like to conclude by congratulating all the OA/Cyclemania riders who turned the pedals in anger. It is nice to see the many top 10 results and just good efforts garnered by the gang:

–          Travis Kroots (Base 36), 2^nd in his 4s group (so excited and justifiably so)

–          Kevin Woodhouse, 3^rd in his 4s group (great ride!)

–          Kevin Hayes, 6^th in his 4s group (nice, Kev)

–          Fred Thomas, 4^th in the 40s (always stellar)

–          Jon Ayers, 5^th in his 5s group (nice way to start your racing career)

–          Ron Bourgoin – 15^th, Eric Weinrich – 28^th after having to chase from an early flat

–          Jeff Fisher – 17^th after channeling his inner anger into a full blown TT though the shattered field

–          Mike Claus – 21^st after getting caught out on Carney and Cassidy

–          Neil Fitch – 55^th (don’t know how his race went)

–          John Grenier – 33^rd

–          Chris Darling – feel victim to a flat during a strong ride in the 3s

 

Jeff Fisher:

To get the true impact of what the long essentially flat dirt section was like, picture the TV shots of a dry Paris Roubaix with the field strung out in one long line, dust fly through the air, riders struggle to hold wheels and hold lines.  That’s what it was like.  I had stayed up at the front on every dirt section and covered every attack that I thought was dangerous.  We still had such a large field that I thought I had just wasted a lot of energy for no reason because nothing was going to break up the race.  That was nearly a fatal mistake.

Hank, Mike and I were all in a line about 20 people back from the front.  We were hammering and I was thinking how well Mike was riding on this section of the course.  It was hard to see because of the dust and we were passing so many riders from the group that started before us it was hard to tell exactly what was going on in the front.  We had been on the dirt for a good five minutes and I finally noticed the pace car was quite a ways up and I could see the cracks opening up all along the pace line in front of me.  Every alarm bell I have inside me went off at the same time.  It was time for a maximum effort because the race was slipping away.  I took off and put it in full TT redline mode.  Once quick look back and there was no Hank and no Mike.  Oh well, the race was in front of me not behind.

I have to say that my season of cross riding paid off in spades.  I was flying over the dirt and passing people like they were standing still.  I could see I was gaining on the group ahead so there was no slowing down at all.  I had just gotten to the pavement and was about to give it one last effort to get back into the race when I swear I heard my name being called.  I must be imagining that, who would be yelling at me.  Then I heard it again.  I looked back and there was Hank trying to get back on.  Now I was really torn.  Be a good teammate and let Hank latch on or finish getting back on and recover.  I decided I’d give Hank 30 seconds to get on my wheel and if he couldn’t do, then he’d have to make his own way.  I slowed down to about the same speed the group was going and when Hank latched on drove it home.

Like Hank said, this was it.  The race had been decided and we were both going to be going for the win.  My legs were great and I could tell that most of the guys in this group were tired.  I was sure I could out sprint all these guys especially with Hank to help.  Just when I thought we were good and had it made, disaster struck; a flat front tire.  I made it through all the really bad sections and flatted where the dirt wasn’t bad at all.  FML.

I waited at the side of the road for about three or four minutes and the wheel guy finally showed up.  Then I got the slowest wheel change ever.  I know these guys are just volunteers so there was no point giving them an earful.  I opened the back of the car myself, grabbed a wheel and put it on.  Off I went in a futile attempt to make up three minutes.

The rest was just 10 miles of depression, frustration, and anger knowing that months of work went down the toilette.  Especially since I knew I had a podium spot.

Lastly I just want to publicly apologize to Mike for the tongue lashing I gave him after the race. It was pointless and I let my frustration get the better of me.  No teammate deserves that.