Gene doesn't actually have a bike at the moment, excluding a sick Eddy Merckx that he ingeniously converted to flat bar which will inevitably lead to hubbard domination out in the commuter wars. God knows what the others were doing.
That left Jeremy, Mitch and Adrian to take on Open B grade, and Rachael to take on women's C out on the windy plains. James and Gene came too under the guise of 'helping'. We really just wanted to leave Melbourne and drink beers.
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| Mechanic chic - our humble narrator #jawline |
'Windy' being the key term here. After a pretty good sleep at a pretty good caravan park (but the Daytona wasn't working in the games room) we all rocked up to the road race, with the car being buffeted around by the wind. We were driving in a land rover. It was, to put it mildly, a bit blustery. Mitch, Jez and Adrian kitted up, while Gene and I (swift change to the first person singular!) high fived over not having to race. I also stalked a border collie that looked suspect. By suspect I of course mean fluffy.
Off go the A graders at a blistering pace. Later there was talk of the neutral zone being, well, not neutral. B grade had it worse, with attacks coming off the front, while some of the riders were still navigating the gravel at the start. No good! Such as it was, we saw Mitch already off the back from the very start. Come lap two, he pulled it, disappointed at his race being over through no real fault of his own. He put double denim on and brightened up considerably though.
Meanwhile the wind was causing absolute chaos out on the road. A grade had blown apart, with groups minutes down, many of them containing very classy riders who had found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time as the wind decimated the bunch.
A few laps later Adrian was out too. His choice of deep section wheels had proven too much to handle in the wind and he, too, pulled in, a broken man. He did kind of invent a new sport though: bike sailing.
Jez was the only man left, a few minutes down from the lead bunch. He finished with so much salt on him, a horse would have licked him very happily for hours on end.
The time trial allowed Jeremy to solidify his position in the top ten for the day.
We all took that as cause for celebration and proceeded to drink many beers.
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| This photo is too hilarious not to include - Ed. |
Morning of the crit dawned wet and grey. Perfect crit conditions! Said no one ever.
Anyway so we all arrived at the cemetery to witness masters A doing very silly things at very high speeds in the wet. We missed Rachael's race because we were trying to find food for Jez. By all accounts she smacked it, finishing ninth in the crit, and third over all in the sprint category. What a banger!
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| Rachel fighting in the crosswinds of Stage 1 - photo courtesy of Jo Upton Photography |
Food eaten, we made our way back to the crit, with Mitch complaining that, despite its deliciousness, gluten just wasn't for him. That's what happens when a Gisborne boy lives in Northcote for too long.
Jez looked visibly nervous which, for those who haven't met Jez, is a bit like seeing a velociraptor scared, read: not possible. You've all seen Jurassic Park. You understand.
While the rest of us drank sneaky beers, Jez warmed up, and was off and racing before we knew it. Having raced this crit last year in C grade, I can vouch for its difficulty. While Jez looked vaguely pained for the most part, he managed a breakaway which, though stunning in its ferocity, was shut down fairly quick, and finished with the bunch - as well as retaining his top ten position. Given the speed of B grade, that was cause for celebration!
High fives all around while we settled in for the A grade race which was just, like, you know, really fucking fast. I stopped watching for a bit to read Virginia Wolf's 'To The Lighthouse' which also comes highly recommended.
All in all a fun weekend where Jez and Rachael managed to fly the Saint Cloud flag, coming away with a top ten result and a sprint result respectively. An awesome effort. I guess riding in snow drifts in the Himalayas pays off after all, hey Jez?
Thanks to Jeremy, Mitch, Adrian and Rachael for giving it a crack, not taking it too seriously, and having fun. Thanks to Gene for being Gene. Thanks to that border collie, also, for being cute.
Man, I love dogs. More than bike racing.
Here is a tune that, while not Against Me!'s best work, summed up the trip, because Mitch and I kept air guitaring to it all weekend. It is catchy as hell, and once, my mate Sime picked up using the chorus while he dinked me in his front rack down Smith St.
