“Everything is different at The Dump!” exclaimed the young lady who registers all racers for the Rosewood Series of races. This one being the race at Vista View Park - the only rolling hills to race on in South Florida. We were lining up for the Cat 4/5 race and she told me I had to switch my race number from my left side to my right. I had carefully pinned the numbers the night before - not too tight to tear the translucent fabric of my jersey, but not too loose to cause the psychological drag in the wind. Now, I had to hastily move it and still warm up. I tendered my $20, expecting two dollars in change, when she also told me that it was $23 to race at The Dump. “Everything is different at The Dump.”
We had a large contingent of racers - young and old, big and small, first-timers and the more experienced - more than 50 in total. We would be starting at the top of the hill, different than last year when we started at the bottom. A hilltop finish, a la Mont Ventoux or Navacerrada or the Gavia. A race for the grimpeurs. As we milled around the finish, a few of the racers and their coaches were working out allegiances and who would work for whom. I found the wheel I thought would be my best bet for a solid finish and waited for the start.
At the gun, one of the racers did not want to wait to see how the race would sort itself out and took off to forge his own path through the hills. As we enter the first ascent, someone takes a turn too wide or too fast and takes another rider out with him onto the grassy area. No harm, no foul. Or so, we thought. The crash splits the pack and then it splits even more. One of the fallen riders, Gregg Blow, fresh from a great effort at the Sunrise Classic and with little competition without Yosmany Pol in the peloton, takes his frustration out on his bike and proceeds to crush everyone. He bridges up to the lead pack, if you can call it that at this point, just a few riders riding together, and rides right through them. He goes on a solo mission. A mission to show what can be done on a bike even if you are only a Cat 4 or 5 racer. He takes no solace in anyone’s wheel and offers none either. Lap by lap, USA Cycling commissaires thank each rider for their efforts as the leader laps them up one by one and in twos and threes.
Halfway through the race, more than half the peloton transitioned from racer to spectator, alliances and allegiances are gone and I have one goal, don’t get lapped. I want to finish the race. I dig deeper on every climb and rest less on every downhill. As I stand on the pedals to gain speed into the apex of the climb, Der Komissair thanks me for my participation in the race. As I peel off to the neutral area, Gregg blows by me. I swear it feels like he eats the rest of the speed and strength in me and uses it for himself to gobble up his next victim. He wins the race going away. There were valiant efforts by Steve Arniella, Unattached, leading his group of three, up and over each hill and down each valley. Damian Serrania, from Team Paisa, soloing the whole way, never giving up and pushing himself beyond his own limits. Ariel Mendez, Unattached, but sporting a BikeAmerica kit, endures and garners a top five finish.
When you climb Mont Ventoux, the citizens of Bedoin at the base of the climb will tell you, don’t try to conquer the mountain, it will win. Today, Gregg Blow attacked The Dump, and it did not push back. Chapeau!
We had a large contingent of racers - young and old, big and small, first-timers and the more experienced - more than 50 in total. We would be starting at the top of the hill, different than last year when we started at the bottom. A hilltop finish, a la Mont Ventoux or Navacerrada or the Gavia. A race for the grimpeurs. As we milled around the finish, a few of the racers and their coaches were working out allegiances and who would work for whom. I found the wheel I thought would be my best bet for a solid finish and waited for the start.
At the gun, one of the racers did not want to wait to see how the race would sort itself out and took off to forge his own path through the hills. As we enter the first ascent, someone takes a turn too wide or too fast and takes another rider out with him onto the grassy area. No harm, no foul. Or so, we thought. The crash splits the pack and then it splits even more. One of the fallen riders, Gregg Blow, fresh from a great effort at the Sunrise Classic and with little competition without Yosmany Pol in the peloton, takes his frustration out on his bike and proceeds to crush everyone. He bridges up to the lead pack, if you can call it that at this point, just a few riders riding together, and rides right through them. He goes on a solo mission. A mission to show what can be done on a bike even if you are only a Cat 4 or 5 racer. He takes no solace in anyone’s wheel and offers none either. Lap by lap, USA Cycling commissaires thank each rider for their efforts as the leader laps them up one by one and in twos and threes.
Halfway through the race, more than half the peloton transitioned from racer to spectator, alliances and allegiances are gone and I have one goal, don’t get lapped. I want to finish the race. I dig deeper on every climb and rest less on every downhill. As I stand on the pedals to gain speed into the apex of the climb, Der Komissair thanks me for my participation in the race. As I peel off to the neutral area, Gregg blows by me. I swear it feels like he eats the rest of the speed and strength in me and uses it for himself to gobble up his next victim. He wins the race going away. There were valiant efforts by Steve Arniella, Unattached, leading his group of three, up and over each hill and down each valley. Damian Serrania, from Team Paisa, soloing the whole way, never giving up and pushing himself beyond his own limits. Ariel Mendez, Unattached, but sporting a BikeAmerica kit, endures and garners a top five finish.
When you climb Mont Ventoux, the citizens of Bedoin at the base of the climb will tell you, don’t try to conquer the mountain, it will win. Today, Gregg Blow attacked The Dump, and it did not push back. Chapeau!
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bravo for a poetic post recapping a great race. here's to all those who suffer and grind it out. 43 x 19!
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