Tour of the Battenkill - The Click

It would be near impossible to arrive in Cambridge, NY for a first Tour of the Battenkill without a boatload of expectations.  Its reputation so pervades New England competitive cycling that I had a pretty complete picture of the race without actually having spoken to anyone about it directly.  Once registered, I did some research, sought some sage advice and got some random warnings.  So I was surprised to be completely unprepared for what makes this race so exceptionally good.

The course is great:  unusual, challenging and genuinely picturesque.  The reputation is clearly well deserved.  But the course and the reputation are only go so far in making a beautiful race.  In fact, the course and reputation may just be the means for getting the magic to arrive in Cambridge.  The magic is the field.  The Masters 40+ field was stacked with an X factor that doesn’t show up on rankings or resumes.  It had an unusual concentration of aficionados. And once critical mass of aficionados is attained, the race just sings.

 

Spotting the true aficionados in a group of otherwise hardcore cyclists is not a simple task.  It’s a lot like pornography:  strict definitions fail, but you know it when you see it.  Sudden change in line?  The rider back manages a tight evasive shift combined with a lean that just oozes control - and no complaints.  Sketchy turn from pavement to dirt?  He nails it like the wide turns in an office park crit.  Even sketchier patch of gravel in the dirt?  The aficionado doesn’t miss a beat, pedals through and holds his line; maybe even accelerates.  But it’s not just bike handling.  It’s stunning power and respect, both for the course, the other racers and themselves.  All of which creates a fine balance of camaraderie and competition.   From where I was riding, the wattage approached Nationals quality and the vibe was like the local hammer fest. 

Over a decade of racing, I’ve accumulated a handful of moments that define what I want out of cycling.  I would have imagined these moments to be personal events:  hands held high on a podium or at a finish.  A few are.  But it’s not the winning moment that is memorable.  It’s the flow experience when everything came together.  When a win was involved, it was gravy; a positive externality.  More often, the moment comes when a group clicks.  I can’t describe the click further without resorting to zennish clichés. I can say that it evaporates as the finish line approaches, but its glow has some hangtime. More importantly, I can say that Battenkill had click to spare.

Tour of the Battenkill - The Process

It’s amazing that The Tour of the Battenkill has developed such a storied reputation in just eight years.  There are other road races that mix pavement and dirt or include a covered bridge or are just as long and hilly, but they just don’t have the reputation of Battenkill.  Battenkill:  it has kill in the name.

So when a team mate made it easy for me to race Battenkill for the first time this year, I knew there would be some unusual preparations.  First question was what bike:  road or cyclocross.  Then which wheels, what tires, what size tires…  Is a dirt road really dirt or is it gravel or sand?  Even the usual questions presented problems.  Google Street View doesn’t cover most of the course; 62 miles of elevation profile completely misses some climbs; and I was signed up for the 30+ race and waitlisted for the 40+ race, resulting in 300 racers to research.  And yes, I usually show up for races with a detailed spreadsheet printout.

As it happens, I got an easy introduction.  My team mate guided me to an excellent equipment setup.  He also noted the crucial sections of the course with psychic accuracy.  The weather was perfect:  sunny, 60s and really dry.  I even got into the 40+ race.  The overall effect was manageable dirt and mellow climbs.  Which is not to say that a little rain wouldn’t make the whole thing a wicked mess; it would.

Here’s what I rode:  the normal team road bike (Specialized Tarmac Pro SL), my usual wheels (Mavic Ksyriums SL) and Continental Gatorskin tires, 23mm in the front and 25mm in the back, pumped up to 100psi.  I brought along an extra water bottle full of Gatorade spiked with protein powder and left the extra tube and inflator in the car.   I should have left the second bottle in the car, too.

Here’s how I rode:  the plan was to be at the front but out of the wind for as much of the race as possible; the idea being that I could respond to any serious attacks and avoid the accordion effect inevitable with the dirt and climbs.  I adhered to said plan except for the short climb on Juniper Swamp Road, wherein I put myself in to what little wind one finds while climbing.  The exercise confirmed that no attack was likely to get away until very late in the game.  At the second feed zone, I forced a selection and brought along four other riders.  Three of my breakaway companions turned out to be outlandishly strong.  The fourth was simply a fair match.  I was very happy with fifth place.  Tactically, a couple of better decisions might have improved my finish. But then again, I was in excellent company nearly a minute ahead of the field.

Catching back on...

Ok, I'm starting to recover from the Easter, Passover, Battenkill, School Vacation week juggernaut.  Too many good things is still too many things.