Rutland: a day in the dirt

Setting my alarm for 3:30am is always the low point on race day.  In England I was used to getting up and giving up my Sundays for the pain of a cycle race.  But Saturday 16^th of April was a little bit special for me.  I awoke having not really slept and already brimming with excitement, I was coming home! With a safety cushion that would allow for several coffee stops we set off and arrived at our hotel in Peterborough a full 4 hours early.  I always enjoy watching the opposition at such events, as team cars and riders trickle through the main gate we sat back and watched as teams from Spain, Denmark, Belgium, France and Britain all lined up this year’s equipment in an attempt to get the psychological edge.  Dinner that evening was a similar affair.  An organised team would typically shuffle in all together and look resplendent in their teams leisure wear.  Our team was impressively coordinated as we lined up for soup, showing off our team t-shirts and grabbed a table in the corner to further spy on the competition.  The most impressive team in terms of sheer showiness was the Spanish KTM team who sported fluorescent orange tracksuits aswell as looking more like gigolos than bike riders. 

Sunday came around all too quickly and as we signed on the start line it was apparent that the race was once again going to be blessed with good weather.  172 riders took the start, a couple of early crashes reduced that number but after an hours racing the peloton finally hit the famous dirt roads.  My experience from last year was crucial at this point.  I placed myself behind a couple of experienced riders in Malcolm Elliott and Tom Barrass just before we hit the dirt roads and after maybe two minutes of eye balls out riding and with the face of a coal miner I emerged in around 20^th place.  The pressure had proved too much for all but the strongest and luckiest riders.  The front group consisted of no more than 40 riders at the 80 kilometres to go mark.  As we approached the second sector of gravel lady luck decided that, although she had blessed me with great legs that day, my tires weren’t going to be so lucky…I had punctured!  Races like Rutland Cicle Classic are largely about luck, getting to the end without mechanical problems is half the battle.  I dropped back looking for my team car.  The split behind which I was happy about 5 minutes before was now my undoing as I was forced to stand at the side of the road for around a minute until my team mate ‘Stijn Eneckens’ offered me his front wheel.  This is possibly the most selfless thing a bike rider can do for a team mate and I gratefully took the wheel leaving Stijn to wait for the team car.  The stop had taken its toll on me however as my legs, once fluid and strong now felt heavy and weakened.  I spent several kilometres hanging around the back of the convoy but with the race galloping away up front I knew my chances would have to wait another year.  Bad luck was striking down our team one by one, the only rider left for us was Erwin De Koerf.  He took on the English riders and finished a close second to take possibly the finest result of his life…chapeau!  I left the race still in love with its charm, the fine balance of luck and power that a rider needs to win it will bring me back again next year hopefully.  I got an interesting view from Stijn on the race “I can’t believe a country like England still has roads this bad!”… and this from a rider brought up on cobbles.  For now its time for some good home cooking and some beautiful Yorkshire scenery before going back out to Belgium later this week.  Here are a couple of images from Rutland.