Sorry for no photos. Perhaps I can add a few down the road, but I didn't see too many photographers braving the rain.
Almanzo is the hardest gravel race I do. It's harder than the longer races. It's harder than the 'harder' races. It's harder than the races promoted as "hard". The competition makes it and 2017 was no different in that regard. I knew going in that I would simply not be the strongest person in the field. It would take my best riding, strategy and some luck if I would have a chance.
Bad weather would be to my advantage. No one is better prepared to ride that course in cold and rainy weather. I rode 155 miles last month when it was 31 and sleeting because I enjoyed doing so. Even if someone else was as "ready" I was confident. I also knew my bike was perfect, with the brand new Barlow Pass 38c compass tire on the rear and the Snoqualmie 44c on the front soft roads and loose gravel would also be to my advantage. As soon as the extended forecast came out I was pulling for it to come true, and it did.
(insert photo of rain)
The race started a bit slower than expected. Most years it gets very strung out over the first hill. I think this was a little neutralized due to the strong east wind. Not much point in going too fast at that point in the course with that. Right away though Colin Catlin outed himself as feeling pretty good by going off the front solo but no one else really reacted and it was much too early/windy for him to get anywhere solo. We would hit a cross wind soon and things would get hard. I was positioned well and took my turns in the echelon. After the crosswinds I have no idea how large the field remained or who was there. Visibility was near zero all day.
You might say that visibility being zero is terrible. Heck, I went through Adam Bergman's "jet wash" once on a descent and had to emergency stop when I literally couldn't tell where the road was anymore. All that "sucks" and all that, but it is also a great opportunity. When things are broken down that fully. There is nothing but forward movement, instinctual reaction to the shapes in front of you, survival. It forces you to exist in your most basic form. It puts you into the moment and it is a gift. I've been that way in other sports a couple times in the past. Usually it is for a minute or two. I remember very clearly one run of Slalom at Spirit Mountain in a MidAm many years ago where I was fully present in that way. A day like Saturday though, it can put you there for hours. Better than drugs...
We barreled along in our own bubbles. I watched some minor attacks etc. into the wind but knew it wasn't "it". Keeper road approached and it gets steep at the end. I was well positioned but it's not my kind of climb. The right combo hit at the front, another fast rider reacted and another went to his wheel. I was sucking air but I had to go. I put in an effort and then the descent came and I took risks. When I made it across I truly felt like they were expecting me. The group had formed with Tim Savre, Catlin, Bergman, Eric Thomson and myself. I remember thinking that they expected me but that I wasn't sure I actually belonged.
The miles went by, I took my pulls. Always take your pulls if you can when you aren't sure you belong...
I got a bottle hand-up from my wife with Eira on her back and an umbrella in Preston. I forced myself to drink more and tried to eat.
Bergman attacked and got a gap in crosswinds. No idea on mileage, 48?
Savre got a tiny gap around a corner with a little rise after it and I just went. It wasn't thought out, it just happened. I crossed the gap to Bergman over the next few miles with no idea whether or not the guys behind were close or out of sight. I couldn't see behind me. I just knew I wanted to get to Bergman. Bergman and I together could stay clear and I could be assured of no worse than 2nd.
Soon after Forestville Catlin and Savre came up to us and Savre was clearly feeling good. He was gone. I struggled on the hills. If we had gotten over those next 4 miles without being caught it might have been different, but we did not. Credit goes to Catlin and Savre for, presumably, working together and if not for being so strong as to catch us anyways. Thomson was gone, we didn't know what had happened to him. I still do not. Tim said that when I had jumped to go to Bergman he had looked back to see who would chase me and Thomson was not there, only Catlin.
Anyways, I had played the one card I really had to play in such company. I dropped my chain once and a 20 second gap turned into a minute and then two. I lost my edge a little but I kept pedaling. I never looked back.
The water crossing was cold. I squatted in it and urinated. I felt much better on the bike after that. I also put my glove in the water accidentally but it was already so soaked it didn't matter. Nothing probably could have mattered then.
Oriole road passed, the final climb passed. I felt better than when I had won in 2015 over the last 6 miles or so, but there was nothing to do about it. The ship had sailed and I just ground to the finish. No one was there but two volunteers. My wife was in the car and Eira was napping. Kim helped me to get my wet clothes off and we drove away.
I would end my night collecting friends from NE Iowa where their attempt at riding the Alexander had stalled.
Summer Dirt Bag GPS Files - 87 mile gpx file 35 mile GPS file To make things confusing here is the 85 mile route from previous years. The 87 mile adds a bit near Maple Lake but I'm ...
3 months ago