Reg is open:

http://www.bikereg.com/events/register.asp?eventid=12045

This was actually the most fun road race I did last year. Two laps of a 20-mile course, with some intense climbs. 3 laps for the 1/2/3 and 3/4 races.

Not sure yet which of the races I'll do - last year I was really thankful to not be starting at 1pm. It was hot as bawls that day.

I'll probably do it. But I'm still Cat 5...
Any other Cat 5?

I signed up for the 4 — u should be able to cram 10 races in before then I think.

I've reg'd for the 3/4 race... longer race (60 miles) seems like a more fun-suffering good time.

Just signed up for the 3/4's to help out

This looks good, and I should be race ready again by July. Not reg'n yet, but Jorge, I'll probably be doing the 5 race too.

Who's going?

Seems like now is a good time to coordinate rides and feeds.

Also could this thread be used for course intelligence from the riders who did this last year?

There are straight cat IV races, and Cat V races in the morning wave. Otherwise, it looks like most of us are in the afternoon wave that starts at 1pm.

I'm planning on racing the pro/am.
Stephane is in the old but super fit guys race.

the III/IV registrants thusfar
Wojciech Plata Kissena
Joshua Meny Kissena
Norman Swygert Kissena Cycling Club
Joseph Mueller Kissena Cycling Club

the IV 35+ registrants thusfar
John Malcolmson Kissena
James Nelson Kissena Cycling Club
Ian Ellis Kissena Cycling Club

the V 35+
Jorge Aguilo Kissena
Jeff Condon Kissena
Murray Hardie Kissena Cycling Club

I was just going to start this thread!

this is my hometown race and the goal of my season - and help would be greatly appreciated and paid back grandly.

here's my report from last year - it should give a bit of insight into the course.

******************

On July 11th, the inaugural Pawling Mountain Road Race was run on a course near to that of the now-defunct Union Vale Road Race.

I’ve raced Union Vale three out of the past four years, and each time, it has crushed me.

The first year, I was dropped during the first of three laps. I picked up my backpack in the parking lot, then rode part of the second lap on the way to the Metro-North station. The conductor asked me if I had raced. "Well . . ."

The second year was terribly hot and humid, but with the creosote-infused stenches of defeat and shame still lingering in my snout, I really tried to stay with the pack. During the first climbs of the second lap, I was in danger of loosing contact with the group. My father was in the feedzone, and I told myself that if I could just hang with the pack until I saw him, He’d give me a cold bottle (or at least a Zima) and everything would be "ok". As I passed him, Papa lunged at me, in much the same way I imagine the Anarchist lunged at McKinley when trying to quickly present that chocolate revolver to the President, but instead of a cold bidon, I was handed four (4) powerbars - Vanilla Bean, if I remember correctly. The disappointment of it broke me, and I was pooped out of the pack like so many Legos through a toddler.

Last year, I had upgraded to Category 3, and the race was a lap longer (60 miles, rather than 45). I stayed with the atrophying lead group the whole way, until we reached the penultimate climb, 4 miles from the finish. My teammate, Keith Snyder, whispered to me, "move up, William . . . now's the time." With a few firm pedal strokes, I began advancing through the diminished pack when both of my legs froze shut in a terrifying, very painful cramp. I had never had a muscle cramp before that moment, and I didn't know what to do . . . so I just did what felt natural. I shrieked, and without unclipping, fell over sideways. The pack rode around me like I was a traffic cone. After a few minutes, my legs released and I very slowly spun the last miles to the finish line.

So maybe you understand why I said that this year, I was on a Revenge Mission. Furthermore, this is a home-town race of sorts for me; for most of the past year, I've been living in Millbrook, NY, 25 miles north of the Pawling Mountain race course, and training on the surrounding roads. When I told my cat. 3 teammates that "me and them hills got unfinished business" they generously rallied around me in support of my vendetta.



This year’s course was close to the old course, but didn’t overlap at all. In preparation, I previewed the 20-mile route the week before - with a steep 2.5 climb, and two more mile-plus uphill slogs, this course was arguably harder than Union Vale. The final climb finished 3 miles from the finish and dropped sharply into town. It was the sort of descent that makes a pack slow down to 30 mph - the kind that smells like burning brake pads if you’re at the back of the pack - but which can actually be taken at full-speed if there are no Nervous Nellies hyperventilating around you. I knew that if I could get over the top of the climb alone or in a small group on that last lap, I could make or hold a gap on the fast, technical descent.

The game plan for the day was "strategerized" to perfection. Josh and Keith would look to join or establish early-to-mid breakaways. Mattio would play "midfield", covering attacks and sitting on any attempts to bridge once the breakaway was established. Al was to play a "shepherd" to Joaquin and I, moving us through the pack according to our directions, holding our hair back should we feel barfy, and generally keeping us out of trouble. If Josh or Keith or Mattio got into a move and stayed away off the front, it would take the pressure of the rest of us to chase. In the meantime, Al could keep Joaquin and I out of the wind and fresh for the firework at the end. Patton would have been proud!

The race itself was hot and fast and very hard, at least for me, even though I was barely in the wind all day. Al guided me deftly through the pack and set me up at the front by the foot of the hill. This was necessary; the climb was so steep and long, especially at the beginning, that I had to go at my own pace or risk blowing up. Starting at the front allowed me to slip back from the lead riders but still be relatively close to the front. Al rode next to and in front of me the whole time as I gradually drifted back, then dragged me to the front again as we crested the climb. I took the long descent in the first 5 wheels. Halfway down, Al rode up alongside to tell me that one of the shoes on his front brake had fallen off. In retrospect, we decided that he should have attacked hard at that moment, but, unable to slow down quickly, he wisely drifted to the back and dropped out of the race.

From then on, I drifted around on Keith, Josh and Mattio's wheel. In the valley on the second lap, people started attacking in earnest. I sat in the draft of the pack and yelled out directions and warnings to Mattio and Keith as different riders charged out on their own. At some point, Joaquin rode up to me and told me he'd had a flat, had tired himself out chasing, and would work for me if I needed it. Meanwhile, on my instructions, Mattio was sticking like a bur to the wheel of my sometime-nemesis/current cat 3 sandbagger Jimmy Ruhl's wheel. I was greatly relieved to see the little orange and white speck of Mattio right behind him when they rode away, because Ruhl is always aggressive and dangerous. When they were brought back, Josh attacked, and after a few minutes on his own, a group of 10 joined him. With a Kissena up the road, and with no obligation to chase the breakaway anymore, we concentrated on the Hot Pockets and KFC Double Down's we had slid into our back pockets in the parking lot.

The break was caught most of the way up the climb. This proved to be the decisive moment of the race; as they splintering pack made contact with the splintering break, BVF's Ben Woodbury snuck away. It was an extremely clever move - the road was winding, there were riders all over the place and, most importantly, a lot of people were too zoned out to notice who was moving up from who was moving back. I know I was - I took that climb with my eyes fixed squarely on the butt on the rider in front of me, concentrating on nothing more than staying in his draft (although there isn't much draft at 9 miles an hour) and it wasn't until most of the way down the descent that I realized the pace car wasn't with our group anymore.

I expected Ben to be caught on the final climb of that lap, but he was nowhere in sight. As we rode through the feedzone, we heard that he had a 1.5 minute gap. Wowza! Someone was having the ride of his life. We organized a chase in the valley on that third and final lap - Mattio, Josh, Keith and Joaquin (I was mostly hiding) and a couple of friends from other teams were working on the front, but fortune wasn't smiling on us, or we weren't working hard enough, because going up the final climb, one of the pace vehicles told us the gap was growing.

The last time up that climb was fast, but I had developed a coping strategy that worked - singing one of my favorite workout anthems in my head the whole time. I felt far more in control than I had the first two time up, and while I was already feeling nervous about the fireworks to come in the next ten miles, I was also feeling confident that the protection my teammates had provided was starting to pay off.

The second to last climb was taken at a hard speed. It was a long, straight slog up without any shade but sunglasses, and I really had to concentrate to continue thinking positive “can-do” thoughts. It helped that my remaining teammates, Josh, Joaquin and Keith were close by. Their presence reminded me to stay focused and prepare for the intensity of these last five miles. As always, I looked for a way to save energy; I sat in 3rd to 5th wheel the whole way up, close enough to be able to respond to attacks, but never in a position to do a turn at the front. From there, I was able to yell at the lead riders whenever an attack came past me. This happened several times, but with a quick "On your left!", they were able to speed up enough to catch onto the aggressors wheel and keep the group together. I was too tired to do different accents, but if it comes up again, I’ll try to remember that.

After the quick descent, we hit the rough roads of the final climb, less than four miles from the finish line. Traditionally, at this point in a bike race, I’m usually either (a) so tired I can’t feel anything, or (b) concentrating completely on how sore my ass is. That Sunday, I was in the former category. Actually, I had been there for quite a while, but I’m a sucker for peer pressure (since forever – remember when I ate all that Chap-Stick at David’s Bar Mitzvah?) and knowing that my teammates had given their Everything in this race, I wanted to be like them! On the first, shallower half of the final climb, the attacks began in earnest. Several strong surges and mad scrambles to catch wheels started to fray what was left of the pack. The pace settled down for a moment on the flattish middle part of the climb but as we rode around a corner, the final wall loomed up at us.


While it’s certainly different for the pros you see on TV, when a group of category 3 hacks are faced with a 10% grade at the end of a hard race, there are no attacks – the pack simply separates as those who don’t have “It” slip away from the front. On this last climb, an invisible comb seemed to pass through the pack, collecting spent riders and sorting them away from the front. Halfway up, I was a distant 4th wheel. I rode my own pace, knowing that all I could do was maintain it and hope that, somehow, fate would bring me and the three leaders together. I dared a look behind me and saw a gap of at least 50 feet, twice what separated me from the trio up the road. With a series of excruciating but precisely measured pedal strokes, I made contact as the hill crested and fought the urge to stop pedaling as the road tilted down. “We have a gap!” I screamed. “GO!”

Two podium spots were still up for grabs, and I knew from previewing the course that a small group could go much faster down the technical descent than the pack. I settled down deep into my drops and led the group through the fast, winding turns, leaning over as my bike rattled over the rough pavement at 50mph. When the road leveled out some, we started a paceline, each of us spinning out our hardest gear in an effort to rotate. I snuck a look under my arm and saw a string of color speeding down the hill behind us. With just under a mile to go, we made a sharp left onto a winding, dippy little road that went through the back of Pawling. One of our quartet failed to pull through, riding at the front but not pedaling. “Please do not fuck this up! They are right behind us!” I screamed, using the combination of bossing and pleading that I’ve begun to perfect from bike races and puppy toilet training. He didn’t respond, forcing me to ride around him. A few more rotations and suddenly I recognize the patch of bulrushes around the pond on my right; we’re about to blast around a curve onto the finishing stretch. I’m in fourth wheel, slightly to the right of the man in front of me. I see the “200 meters” sign up ahead. Kevin Rooney of Sanchez/Houlihan-Lokey is in front and he starts to wind the pace up. The rider in front of me is immediately gaped. I have to slow down for a moment then pass him on the left in order to catch the wheel of the rider in second position, the same one who was skipping his pulls. I feel his draft for a moment, then he’s already out of the saddle, surging past Rooney. At this point, there’s no more hiding or strategizing - it’s just a drag race. I stay in the saddle and thrash wildly at the cranks, slowing drawing even with Rooney, who’s thrashing out of his saddle, straining at a big gear. With 50 meters to go, I know I’ll pass him to get that last podium place. With 25 meters to go, I notice Mattio, Al, my father and my little sister jumping up and down – hearing them holler my name seems to conjure up a little tailwind, and suddenly it’s easy. I pass Rooney by a bike-length, and coast through a couple of stop signs without a care. The spell breaks abruptly and I’m gasping and weaving as I slow to a crawl on a side street. After a moment, Josh is behind me. We have a hug in someone’s driveway then limp back to the finish line.

The friends of mine who haven’t been inducted into the Cycling Cult are always surprised to hear me explain that bike racing is a team sport. “It’s all about the draft,” I tell them, but in reality, it’s also about the psychological and emotional support your teammates can provide – encouragement and comfort when your hurting so bad you don’t care about being brave, and (sometimes more importantly) pressure to step up and return a favor or honor the efforts they made for you. The 3rd place I managed to come away with belies the significance of how well we worked together, and how completely selfless the team was for my benefit. That part, at least, was just like what you see on TV. The only thing missing was someone insisting that they watch me while I peed in a cup. Besides Al . . . You don’t count, dude.

I'm doing this for sure too. I haven't decided yet whether to do the 3/4 or the 4. I guess if there are no other Kissenas in the under 35 4 race I might just show up and help William. That would make transportation easier if nothing else.

I think mike and I may be doing this too.

Need to check with wife.

I can do whichever race too.

was planning to do the cat IV 35+.....then learned i will be on road mon-thurs of the preceding week for work. so 50/50 at the moment. a bit afraid of trying it w/o any time on bike immediately in advance. if i end up registering, i'll post again as i'll have room in the car for at least 1 more....

I'm in for the Cat 4 35+. John M has a place reserved in my car but I have room for 2 more.

Posted By: eragotI think mike and I may be doing this too.

Need to check with wife.

Jeff, does Eric have permission?

Jim I'll take a spot in the dope ride if you'll have me. Owens, come with, lets do the IVs together one lap less pain

Yeah, but you can't do the 35+ yet, can you?! I can do the 35-, even though I'm a decrepit 36, right?

I'm down for whichever. They are only 7 minutes apart.

Dudes, I'm in. I have the same question - can I do the -35 if I'm 35? Whatevs - I'll do whichever the brothers Johnson and Owens are doing.
Ready to reg - lemme know!
t

Norm did the under 40 at Housatonic. No one said anything and he's as old as me.

norm is 100?!?

OK - I'm in for the Cat 4 35+ race. I've got room for up to 3 total - lemme know who needs a ride. Fugazi! Coffee! Bagels! Special Ed!

In case William's report gives you a case of TL;DR, here are some things to be aware of about Pawling:

1. The first climb is pretty challenging. It's long and hard enough to hurt pretty bad. If you're anything less than confident about your climbing, start at the front and drift backward, saving energy.

2. The second climb is a spiky little hurter. And the descent from it (or is it from the third climb, shortly thereafter?) feels a little bit death-defying, because it's twisty, but take note! You can do this at top speed without touching the brakes! If you want to avoid other people's crappy descending, stay to the front.

3. If they let you go swimming in the lake afterward, DO IT. It's AWESOME.

4. Very good race.

Considering doing the 4's -35. Not registering yet because I've got to see how I'm feeling on some longer climbs this upcoming weekend.

Swimming sounds awesome, though...

I'm in the 3/4

Posted By: mattioIn case William's report gives you a case of TL;DR, here are some things to be aware of about Pawling:

1. The first climb is pretty challenging. It's long and hard enough to hurt pretty bad. If you're anything less than confident about your climbing, start at the front and drift backward, saving energy.

2. The second climb is a spiky little hurter. And the descent from it (or is it from the third climb, shortly thereafter?) feels a little bit death-defying, because it's twisty, but take note! You can do this at top speed without touching the brakes! If you want to avoid other people's crappy descending, stay to the front.

3. If they let you go swimming in the lake afterward, DO IT. It's AWESOME.

4. Very good race.

third climb is a spiky little hurter

second climb is a long straight shallow drag

Hi guys-

I'd like to come along for this one. I'll do the Cat 4 under 35 I think, unless there is need for a helper bod on in the 3/4 race.

What are the thoughts on this one?

Adam

the swimming definitely was awesome, except there were a number of huge spiders on the dock . . . i was SKURD!

Posted By: WilliamDCthe swimming definitely was awesome, except there were a number of huge spiders on the dock . . . i was SKURD!

I was William's domestique for this race and all he asked me to do was to kill spiders on the dock after the race.

I'm regged for 3/4 field, as a Cat 4.