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Road Race


Eastway No Hopers Race

 

We recently got sent two accounts of the same road race by both Chris C and Steve D. They've both completed a whole season of road racing now as well as attending the fantastic Addiscombe introduction to road racing days and are now ready to mix it with the big boys as Eastway! Read on...

 

Part 1

THE IMPETUOSNESS OF YOUTH

 by Steve Dennis (very nearly 30)

On the way there we discussed great plans for wild attacks from the gun, first bend, first climb, lap 5, counter attacks, last 5 laps, the sprint. This was blindly against Keith's unusual e-mail to me suggesting that I "sit in and see what happens, Mate..Mate...mate"!! Our final tactic was to do just that, play it by ear.

So imagine my surprise when on the first lap, 20 seconds into it, halfway up the first climb, from my watchful third position, I see Chris going past me and the guy infront swinging across to follow. Racing instincts took over (nerves).

The sight at the end of lap 1 was glorious, two Addiscombe riders in line over the finish line 200m, no 300 no 400m ahead of the race. I was grinning ny ass off. We killed them in that lap. The next lap we still had them dead. By the third lap they were more kinda drowsy than dead and by the fourth lap a miracle had occured as the ressurected bunch stormed up to us.

And they weren't feeling very forgiving. I can't blame them I suppose. Chris slipped onto the front and I did my usual struggle to fit into the side of the race. No one wanted to let me back in. I fought at the sides and everywhere but the climbs thought it was actually quite slow. Note I said except for the climbs. Then... la..la...'mmmm..ohh look at that..la la ..murmur...cough..

I still cant believe they pull lapped riders with 5 to go, especially those who don't interfere with the bunch etc. Suppose thats the price I pay. Well I had a glorious position to see Chris still pilling it on at the front of the race. Believe me he was fired up and determined, superb. With 2 to go I saw him attacking the bunch on the other side of the road, unfortunately someone in the bunch saw him too and told everyone else. He stayed ahead for most of the lap but having made his final effort eventually finished behind the sprinting pack. Believe me a hell of a ride by Chris.

So.......I really do hate that hill at Eastway!!! Ultimately the attack was foolish, whether Chris meant it or was just going uphill quicker than me (his excuse on the way home). I really have got to calm down and wait, I'll probably try to trap myself in the bunch for half a race. But still I know that my attacks can get me far enough off the front to be useful. Also reckon that I'm still not warming up enough but how many laps of Eastway car park can you do?!

I have to say it was a LARF though, we even broke down in giggles over the post race cake.

Hopefully someone took photos of the early Addiscombe break...they certainly took note.

Steve

 

Part 2

Steve Dennis and I agreed that we would each write an account of Saturday's race. This is mine.

The race was for Women and 4th Cats with no points. On the start sheet this was abbreviated to "Blank Fourths". Chris Blank and Steve Blank were the only Agreeables in the race.

We drove out to Eastway together and discussed tactics on the way. The distance was only 20 miles, so I was in favour of attacking out of the first corner, at the end of the start straight. Steve has recently been accused by Keith Knight of being a little impetuous at times, so Keith will be pleased to hear that Steve was dead against this tactic. He favoured attacking just after the second corner, half way up the hill.

I was grateful to Steve for his more mature approach, and we duly attacked half way up the hill, about 400m after the start. By the end of the first lap we had a lead of about 100m. Excellent, I thought. Another 19 laps of this, and we get an Addiscombe one two. At the end of the third lap the bunch caught us. Worse than that, the front riders decided to counter attack immediately. This was in the poorest taste, as Steve and I clearly needed a rest. But we dug in and hung on.

After a few laps more I had pretty much recovered, and Steve had gone out of the back up the dreaded Eastway hill. I think he has a psychological problem with this hill, although he insists that the problem is purely physical (ie gravity). I felt pretty guilty about the whole thing, as our tactics were entirely designed to maximise our chances of getting away, because I can't sprint. Steve, on the other hand, can sprint pretty well, so he should not have been encouraged to attack from the gun. Never mind. He'll learn one day not to listen to baldy scouse gits with no points when deciding on tactics. He spent the rest of the race overtaking any and all other riders who lost touch with the bunch, which strongly suggests that he should not have gone out the back in the first place.

The rest of the race for me was a series of attacks and counter-attacks by about half a dozen strongish riders, but no-one was strong enough to get away. Even after the primes a break failed to form, which disappointed me greatly, as I took care to ride just behind those sprinting for the cash, with the hope of starting a break from there. Didn't happen. My last dig was on the finish line with two laps to go. I got a bit of a gap (maybe 50 metres) and kept it for about half a lap. But when I turned in to the wind on the back straight it was like riding into, well, a 20 mile an hour wind (although I'm pretty sure it was gusting up to 25). My speed went down to 18 mph and the bunch streamed past me as I turned up the little hill. This was something of a surprise, as I had taken note of Keith Butler's advice and not looked back to see where they were. And that was it for me. I just about got on to the back of the bunch, but lost touch after the bell, when the pace started to wind up for the sprint. Not that I would have competed for it anyway, being a complete coward.

So that's how our two Agreeable Blank heroes finished the 20 mile no-hopers race: out the back. Great fun, though.