The anti-Tour de France

Big sponsors (Cadillac?). The "Lance" factor. (Yawn). Carbon bikes that are possibly doped along with their riders. (Ugh). As I sit here in my slight post-surgery malaise, I guess I'm wishing for a bit simpler time, when the riders were doped on dangerous amphetamines, chain smoked after stages, and ate horse meat.

I have hairy legs, an aluminum bike, and Ultegra brakes from 1994 on said bike. I wish there were some sort of "anti-USA Cycling" league, where old guys who may or may not have raced as juniors in the 1980s, have a couple of kids and a mortgage, sometimes work 50 hour weeks, and can't afford to buy anything but used components from 2002, could all show up and have it out on the race course. Oh, and hairy legs are a must. Goddamit I don't have time to shave my legs, and I'm convinced that leg shaving is actually kind of silly for amateur racers. I mean, its great to look all Euro-pro in a Cat 3 race, but who, aside from yourself, really gives a shit? Its all about the riding . . .

Mt. Evans Hill Climb

It has been 12 years since I last did this race. 1998 was a wash--I finished in nearly dead last, with most notable thing occurring when Jeannie Longo flew by my on one of the last hairpins--she'd started 45 minutes after me!

But 1997--I performed out of my mind for a complete non-climber and finished 37th out of about 60 guys in the Cat 3 race with a time of 2:29. Perhaps that doesn't seem that great on paper, but believe me, it was one of the best performances of my Cat. 3 life.

All those boys from the front range took off like it was a downtown crit at the beginning. I was like "fuck you guys, I'm riding my own race here," and I drifted off the back. For awhile there, I believe I was in last place (little did I know that I was not in last place, but see the footnote for that). About 7 miles into the race, when the false flat out of Idaho Springs really begins to kick up, I started picking off guys. Just a few here and there. By the time I arrived at Echo Lake I was feeling fantastic and was probably lying near the top 50. Beyond the Lake--I really started to pick off those whose ambitions were crumbling. A Colorado Velo guy here, a GS Boulder guy there. Maybe a Vitamin Cottage guy or two. Guys riding like they were standing still, just flailing. The weather that day was nice, but quite cold and a bit windy past Echo Lake (but sunny).

About 5 miles from the summit, I finally started to feel the effort and if the event had been longer than 28 miles I would have shattered. I'd picked off the last guy I was going to pass, and then was unceremoniously passed by a rider in a Lefler Quantum skinsuit--who later turned out to be crazy Ira from Iowa City. He'd had some kind of mechanical lower on the slopes. I was just clinging to my place. I'd been in the 39-19 and 21 most of the day, I dropped it down to the 23 (and was actually kind of wishing for a 25). Those final switchbacks just hurt like hell.

I was so happy after I crossed the line. I finished right behind my fellow Forest Service co-worker Christopher Jones, an expert mountain biker and mountain goat in his own right. I was dizzy, euphoric, the same feeling I had when I hiked 14ers that year. I just bombed the descent, getting down in less than 30 minutes.

It still remains one of the very best days and memories of my life.

(footnote): I learned a few months later that one of my very good friends, sda, had made the trip from Lincoln the day before, made it to the start line at least 15 minutes late, but still finished in a respectable time, not that far behind me and probably would have finished near the leaders if not for the regrettable delay. . .