Tour of Quebec Adventure
Tough, short, tougher, wet, toughest. So was the rhythm of life in the north country of Quebec City this last weekend. John McGill, Mark White and I headed up on Wednesday night for four days of stage racing with some of Canada’s finest, and a handful of New England’s finest as well. We had a fourth partner in crime, Adam Carr, who seemed to negotiate the high speeds and difficult course far better than John and I, and Mark was the only sane one who went to duke it out in the Masters race on Saturday. The rest of the time Mark played the critical role of feeder, driver, and master of good humor.
Stage One was a 130 km road race on the northern tip of an island centered in the St. Lawrence Seaway. Beautiful course, fairly flat and faster than I could handle. After two laps on the 32 km loop I got caught at the back during a massive tailwind acceleration and popped like a kernel of corn in hot oil, only with less fanfare. Fortunately I had a group of fellow com-pain-triots to pace with for the second half of the race, but the peloton’s speeds were so high we lost 30 MINUTES to the pack by the finish. But strongman McGill managed to survive that violent attack and stayed in for a great pack finish.
Stage Two was a 5.1 km TT along the banks of the river right next to Quebec City. I wish I could tell you something about that one but frankly it was over before anyone had time to catch their breath. Flat, with a tailwind and the fastest guy went 5:32! I knew I was in trouble when my strongest discipline got me a 68th out of 120 riders. But McGill was in hot pursuit only 3 seconds back – that new funny bike of his is treating his old-school ass pretty well I’d say.
Stage Three was a 55 km, 50 lap Crit in a city outside of the main downtown of Quebec City. The course included a steady climb and then a downhill into an off-camber single-file only corner into a long downhill into an accordion corner into a hill into a…well I guess that’s it. Things started raging instantly and after about 5 laps of pretending like I belonged with the lead pack, got slapped back into the second group. We chased, we suffered, we thinned, and after 25 laps we got run down by the lead group of about 25 and were pulled from the course for safety reasons. Definitely a happy moment when that whistle got blown. That was the moment when I realized I’m not quite ready for that level of racing.
Stage Four had me thinking differently. This was 10 laps on an 11km circuit with a 500 meter wall, a technical neighborhood stretch, some into-the-wind flats and a stepped descent with some easy tailwind rolling. And then it started raining. With semi-fresh legs after the shortened day two, I fell into a great rhythm, found a comfortable line around the course, and with McGill on my heels proceeded to ride like I actually knew what I was doing. After 10 laps we had dropped about 40 people and Adam and I were well positioned for the final climb – McGill suffered a flat a lap before. And then I droppped my chain. But by then I was so happy for having a great day I laughed my way through the mechanical and finished a satisfying 62nd. Probably the best day of racing I’ve ever had, and the only moment when I didn’t feel completely under-qualified to be there.
Stage Five confirmed that this feeling of belonging was quite temporary. 17 laps on a 5.7 km course for 100 km. Ok, not too long, people are tired so things should be slower, but we heard there was hill involved. So we pre-rode the loop to see what this climb was all about. Now all of you have experienced Lincoln Gap. This was steeper. And I don’t mean that in a “you wouldn’t believe how hard that shit was” kind of way. There was a large contingency of Vermont riders there and we agreed it was the steepest pitch most of us have ridden, and that everyone had ever raced. When I first saw the 400 meter-long hill I laughed, swerved my way up like a drunkard and then went to switch my cassette. And just to be sure I didn’t get any ideas I might actually survive the race I lined up dead freekin’ last in the group. Sure enough, when we rolled into the wall there was total carnage, Chains popping, gears grinding, shoulders bumping, and people simply coming to a stop and tipping over. I picked my way through the wreckage, survived the climb, survived it 5 more times and then pulled over to cheer as the Yellow Jersey group raged past me, ending my Tour of Quebec as they were DNFing all lapped riders. And then there was McGill. Although he positioned himself safely in front of the first lap mayhem, he thought his new SRAM setup had been placed into an appropriate gear as he attacked the hill. Turns out he was still in his big ring, and by the time he crested the hill his quads were destroyed having only turned his pedals about 50 times total for the two minute climb.
So it was hard, fun at times, miserable at others, and there were plenty more highlights and low-points to be had, but overall it was a good four days of racing. Would I go back? Only if we can get some more Onions on the roster for 2010! Suffering loves company. And another huge thanks to Mark White for supporting us with a smile. That guy is awesome.