Last Saturday's Desperado is still lingering with me, especially after two Alpine Loops this week. My original training plans were to accomplish about a 125 mile ride this Saturday, but when I contacted my buds in Salt Lake, they were planning on doing the Sanpete road race; it's 72 miles. "Where is that?", Thinking it was somewhere close. Oh, it's in Spring City, near Ephriam. Now why would I want to go all the way down there. My plan after Desperado was to come back to Utah County until Monday (8/30) and then go home. The thought came to me that I should head down that way, participate in the race and then travel home. That sounds like a good option, home two days early? That would make Kate happy. Would one more mountain ride on Monday make me that much incrementally better? Probably not, but I was still feeling gypt.
Plans revised, I pack the car and direct it south Sat morning for a new experience. Maybe I'll see them along the way as they are suppose to pass my location about the time I head out. The forecast was giving us a break from the rain, but it didn't say anything about the wind, well, perhaps a mild wind. Scattered clouds filled the sky and made for a pleasant sunrise.
An hour and a half later, I arrive in Spring City. Most of the available parking at the church is already filled. A quick check-in, there is Eric and Mike, change of clothes, food prep and I'm off to warm up. Not knowing how fast the group is going to begin, I get my heart rate up to about 165, I just want to be better prepared than Chalk Creek. Soon, we are released.
Slower start, that suits me fine. Mike is near the front and Eric closer to the back, I settle in behind Eric. The miles begin to tick off, 5 then 10. We are in Fairview and are approaching a right hand turn. Something says, "Take this wide." As I move out from behind Eric, someone hits this cone (unusually large and why they were placed in the road is beyond me), I see it fall over, but refocus on the turn and am out of the saddle to maintain position within the group. A little bit later, I notice Eric is not with us. Did he flat, did he crash? Wasn't sure, but felt bad as we pressed on.
The speed picked up a bit since the start and after a few more miles we're headed west, the wind picking up a bit from the south. As we begin the approach to 89, the pace increases with the intent to drop a few. Push, it will hurt, but stay with the group. Up the hill to Hwy 89 and a turn south. The wind has made itself clear that it would be a factor on this ride. Those in the front seem content to stay in the front. I'll hang in the rear where I need to recoup from trying to maintain that last little spurt.
Back to Mt Pleasant, north of Spring City then we head west again to Moroni. The leaders push to minimize the number that follow. The wind is tossing me around with the 45mm rims I decided to run with today. I'm not the only one, several others have deep rims. I strain to stay with them. Soon, we are to Moroni and a much needed water re-fill. I notice that a person in front of me ejects his bottle toward two kids, standing on a corner. It continues to fly towards them and lands right between them; they were only a foot apart. I'm not sure whether to think, "How rude" or "How lucky".
The handups were a bit slow and soon the peleton made a burst down the hill following the road due north toward Fountain Green. Because I was on the end, I had some pressing to do to catch the wheel in front of me, the wind at our backs. Before, all of the surges were short efforts of no more than a mile or so. But come to find out, we were in pursuit of two that made a breakaway. Our sustained speed over the next seven miles was 28 or so. The effort was enough for me to say, that is enough. No sooner was my thought than we made a broad u-turn back into the wind which kept us to about 15. Those two were shortly to be back with us.
I huddled behind a few people to conserve my energy for the next nine miles. Mike was a trooper and continued to take turns pulling. Another water stop and we began heading east. An interesting phenomenon occured, the group began breaking into two. Mike had backed off, he asked me where Eric was and could only say, "Not here, we lost him in Fairview". We accelerated to move into the lead group. For sure it was time for a move, only twelve miles to go. Our last turn south and everyone congregated due to the wind. So much for that.
We are approaching our final turn that will re-direct us back to the north. Mike is moving out ahead and one other follows. Hold steady. As we continue around the bend, we begin to make a climb. Mike begins to fall back, another small pack begins to move ahead. I'm already working at 90%, I don't think it is prudent to try and catch them, there are four to five miles remaining, we will need enough for a sprint. I catch up to Mike and give him a little push. We crest the hill and Mike and I take turns pulling. He came around someone who got upset from him being on his wheel. Welcome to racing.
I pull behind for a bit and then move to his left side attempting to slow down anyone who wants to go around. He deserves this more than I do. Not much further, there are about five or six of us. A truck passes us and stays in front creating a very hazardous situation as we set up for the sprint. In short order, a couple break out on both sides of us when the finish came into view. The truck begins to slow down, I do not want those two to get ahead. Mike backs off because of the truck. "Stay left" was imprinted on my brain. I firm my grip, raise up from the saddle and begin to pump, the truck drops by me on the right, I catch one but not the other and the line is crossed.
Mike and I catch up afterwards with some of his friends. We are trying to determine where Eric is. I decide to move the car closer to where we are and when I return, Eric is there. That cone in Fairview caused quite a raucus. Eric crashed and showed us his war wound. He tried to catch up but the peleton moved on faster than the individual. The strength of the wind caused him to drop about 30 min behind. The lesson learned this summer by me, the hard way is, the group is always stronger than the individual. Never fall from the group. We feed ourselves at the sponsored lunch and chat some more about the day. I excuse myself in order to make the 9 hour trip home. Next time I see them will be at Lotoja. I take a peak at the results and am shocked, 10th in our group of 30 that finished.
This was my first experience staying with the peleton through the entire route, except the last few miles. It is certain, that alone, progress is slower. Somehow, I felt as though my change of plans was the work of another hand. Why I felt to move to the outside of the line in Fairview is unresolved. Why I was sure the truck would stay right is unclear. But this much I am sure of, the impressions were undeniable. It was not to give me an advantage, more perhaps to keep me and others safe. Following the promptings of the Spirit, can always give us confidence to know where we stand.
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