As stated, much of the race consisted of extremely tight quarters, elbow rubbing, plenty of "whoahs", and a bit of cycling.
I wanted, as everyone did, to stay as close to the front for when the breakaway attack was going to happen.
The problem was that there were no consistent, repeated attacks.
The surges were distanced enough for the majority of the peloton to regroup and recover.
On the southbound stretch of the Sundance loop I found myself barrelling along the left edge of the group all the way to the front, where I figured I would test the old legs out a bit. I gunned off the front, Mike on my tail, "you going for it?"
"No" was the answer, and it came in the form of me realizing how nice it had been, staying sheltered from a significant headwind, and subsequently backing off. Within minutes, I was all the way at the back again!
Interestingly, I tried the same thing at the exact same place the 2nd time around that loop, but this time with a little more gusto.
Mike, again, was on my tail hollerin' something. Could've been something like, "with ya", or, "idyat"...
Anyway, this time we literally propelled past the pack... but there was that friggin wind again!
And instead of a small, ambitious group of wanna-be heroes, it was 40 not-wanna-let-anyone-get-away party poopers.
Anyway, like last time, I ended up and the very back again within minutes as the surges on both left and right continually engulfed the middle of the pack.
I had to stay near the top third. I realized that no breakaway was going to succeed, and I knew I had easily enough gas left in the tank to keep up with any surges, but that probably most people did.
I knew the finish line was at the crest of a slight hill, and I didn't wanna end up behind someone struggling on the ascent, so I began to claw my way up.
At about 7km from the finish, Mike initiated a couple of attacks that were both reeled in, but caused minor havoc in the group, with people stepping up to accelerate. I heard an ear-shattering clash of carbon and aluminum smashing on the ground not far behind me as several riders went down, including, that I know of, one cranky and one really tall guy, whom I was told was a favorite to watch for in this race.
That put even more tension on the already jittery group, and by the time we rounded the corner and saw the 1000m sign, I found myself surprised that the pace was not faster. I began to speed up, cautiously, being careful to a) not repeat that horrific scene minutes earlier, and b) not burn my last match too soon.
I passed Mike around this point, and several others until I saw the 400m sign and then went all out.
I caught a couple other guys, and ended up finishing a hair behind another ST rider, somewhere around 15th (I think?)
The race was won by this kid from Synergy, couldn't have been more than 18, 5 foot nothing.
Very interesting experience, no less.
I guess what I could've done better is time my advancement to the front to be in a better position for the final sprint.
The limiting factor was the large number of bodies in front of me that I could not get around on time.
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