Wrapping up PIR for May

Went into the final Masters 4/5 race for May in 5th place overall, just off the podium. Winning the series was in all likelihood out of reach but a strong ride might get me to the podium. The fact that it was Memorial Day had not discernable effect on the field size which, at 36, was its usual dry day size. Daughter came along to watch Dad ride and did her own ‘warm-up’ on her scooter brought along for the occasion.

While chatting with KB during the warm up I spotted Cristina near the tents and diverted over to say hello. To my embarrassment and the hilarity of a great many riders I actually fell off my bike when stopping before her. In my mind I ‘fell with style’ (to borrow from Toy Story) and sustained only some minor elbow damage. Actually it was a blessing because the mechanic in the tent nearby noticed that my front wheel was soft. I had repaired a puncture a couple of days before (instead of replacing the tube itself) and, as a back-up, brought a second front wheel ready to go in case my ‘patch‘ failed. Grinning like a fool at my brilliant foresight, I waddled as best as one could in bib-tastic lycra and bike shoes back to the car to retrieve the spare wheel. All who had spotted my graceless tumble made sure to tell me about it later.

We would be racing clockwise for 14 laps with three sprint primes. The usual suspects; BE, KB, EA and CS and a gaggle of other Team Oregon riders were in the field. As for the race itself, the pace was quite high and the attacks came at regular intervals. I contested only one prime but left the sprint a little too late and managed a POINTLESS 4th (geddit - it was ‘pointless’ because the points only go to third in the primes and therefore 'pointless' because it was all for nothing). I know, I know - hilarious!

OK, now to the final sprint, which without teammates, was going to be tricky. Whom to stalk? This particular decision was not mine to make because coming ‘round the final bend I was stuck on the inside and the dangerous sprinters were on the outside. Crap. I was locked in behind several ‘chicken-legged-cardigan-wearing-nancy-boys’. Now in biggest gear I continued up the inside passing several, all the while yelling ‘on yer inside ya bastad’ in my best Sean Connery (why? because it sounded commanding).

Then in an instant I was clear of the man-sweat and lube-scented masses with the line in sight. TOTALLY on top of the gear and SO out of the saddle I powered onwards. Mr Smith’s booming voice took me back for a brief second to Cherry Pie which reminded me that he was irritating and motivating at the same time. Further energized, I continued stomping enthusiastically.

To my surprise, I cleared the line in second place. Equal best finish at PIR and enough to secure second place for the series. Apparently, a prize awaits. Here’s hoping it’s the new Cadel Evans biography, ‘Angry Mosquito‘. Word is that it is a devastating blow-by-blow account of racing in Italy.