The local veterans cycling club for me is the Central Victorian Veterans Cycling Club. Racing resumed three weeks ago after being shut down by the pandemic last year.
Competition ups the intensity; more in some than in others. As a school kid my basketball coach used to talk about killer instinct. I think he intended it to be synonymous with white line fever. It does appear that I have it in spades. Knowing this to be the case I was keen to turn out for the races, not for their own sake of course but as part of my training program for the Peaks Challenge.
The first week was a graded scratch race. The handicappers conspired and put me in C grade. Away we went. I was keen to do my share of the work. I didn’t want to seem parasitic on the hard work of others. What was I thinking? All seemed to be going well, the pace was quick and yes I was breathing heavily but coping.
All too soon however a corner, that I didn’t take particularly elegantly, exposed me to a harsh cross headwind just at the base of an uphill straight. It was all over in an instant. The string broke. I was looking at the backs of a receding bunch. Initially I thought I might catch them. I managed to pile on some extra pace and the gap stayed constant for a while but working as a team they eventually left me to my personal time trial. An education.
Week two was a handicap race. The handicappers were kind to me, I went with the first bunch away. We had a 20 minute start on the scratch riders. The strategy is quite different in a handicap. A group has an advantage over an individual. Each rider in turn gets out front to break a hole in the wind while the remainder tuck in and benefit from the slip stream. There is an advantage in keeping together, a weaker rider can still be of value even if taking short or even infrequent turns at the front. The bunch is in no hurry to drop anyone but they will sacrifice them eventually if they don’t contribute.
I was getting plenty of good advice and encouragement and feeling good.
Eventually the stronger riders will catch up. Their strategy is to pass at a speed that makes it impossible for you to latch on. Your strategy is to latch on at all costs. You will be welcome if you can take your turns. You will be unwelcome if you spend too long hiding down the back. It was the scratch riders that caught us first and they passed at over 40 kph. I made it across but by digging deep into oxygen debt. I wasn’t with them for long.
Now you have to make a choice. The friends you wanted to make have rejected you. The friends you recently abandoned are behind you and may feel a little miffed that you left them. Slide back and rejoin or go it on your own? It would be ignominious to slide back but even more so to go it alone, blow up and be passed by them!
I put my head down and finished between the two bunches in eighth position. Not entirely shabby … it’s great what a 20 minute start can do.
This is not racing for a sheep station but it is for small stakes. $10 goes in the kitty prior to the race and eighth gets a small token of the club’s appreciation. As a newby I was excused from making a contribution so did not pick up my envelope.
It was waiting for me this week!
Under the circumstances I felt obliged to put into the kitty this time even though they were still willing for me to enjoy my free trial period. It was another handicap. 46 km this week so slightly longer. The handicappers did me slightly less of a favour. I was with the second group away (four groups in all). It was two laps of a simple flat circuit. There was a strong headwind out and by that miracle of nature no wind at all on the way back.
We were caught by the third group and virtually everyone made it across. Subsequently we caught the front markers and they mostly coalesced although only a couple of them had enough left to take turns. We had only about 3 or 4 km to go when the scratch riders screamed past. Two of us made it across, neither of us had the legs to stay there. We both finished between the bunches. I improved my position to seventh – just as well I contributed to the kitty.
This time I collected my winnings with a big smile on my face. The scratch puppies that beat me all looked way to young to be in the vets. I think I should call for the production of birth certificates next time.