For those of you interested in racing someplace other than Prospect Park or FBF this weekend there are a few options that appear to be interesting.

1. Saturday. Tour de Pitman, Pitman, NJ (just south of Jersey). 50-mile circuit race for cat 1/2/3s with $2500 prize list.

https://www.bikereg.com/Net/15510

2. Saturday. Nutmeg Classic Criterium, New Britain CT. Racing all day for every conceivable category on course that is mostly curvy turns (for all you 90-degree-phobes). Highlights include multiple master's categories, and for you upgrade point hunters, you have races for Cat 4 and Cat 3 only. For you greedy money grubers, the Pro 1/2/3 race is 40 miles long (a nice distance for a crit) and has a $1250 purse. Also 5 different women's fields--for all you lonely hearts.

https://www.bikereg.com/Net/16159

3. Sunday. Riverton Crit, Riverton, NJ. Near Philly, so even WDC can't use his lady-friend as an excuse for not racing (winky-face!), there aren't as many categories as in CT, but there is a separate cat 4 race, Master's 35+, Kids races and the 1/2/3 race boasts a $1999 prize list that goes 20 deep. SRAM neutral support (so leave your extra wheels at home.)

https://www.bikereg.com/Net/15554

I'll be at Riverton for sure, and likely Nutmeg too.

Cross posting from "Riverton 2011" thread. I thought I started another thread for this year's crits on this weekend.

Driving through New Britain, CT, I feel at home. Like a thousand other
"bike race towns," its main street is a motley assortment of bodegas,
boarded up-store fronts, Chinese take-away (that's for you Brits on the
club...my next post I will refer to all Indian food as "Curry,"
regardless of whether or not there is curry involved), and an
old-fashioned hobby shop that reminds me of my dad.

Tucked away, past 100 year old house porches with rotting steps, apartment building
windows with sheets for shades, is one of Frederick Law Olmsted's lesser
known works. Walnut Hill Park, like Central Park, dips and dives, winds
and whips and even has a "jogger's lane." Unlike CP, the loop is 1 mile
even, and the course completely closed. Like many cyclo-cross courses,
the wide open fields allowed for excellent site lines, and watching the
race unfold from one side of the course to the other was exceptionally
easy.

Our only obstacles in the road race are deceptively tricky
turns. An off camber descending 110 degrees, a sweeping 80 degree
left-hander with inconsistent radii, a square slab of plywood covering a
hole of some sorts that is inconveniently located where everyone wants
to run their wheels. And for about 5 laps there is a broken carbon fiber
water bottle cage that was sheared from someone's ride and is getting
"tiddly-winked" through the field like a Chinese throwing star. I'm
starting to appreciate the extra side panels on my Rudy Project glasses.

The races start early and go all day and into early-bird supper time. 5
women's races, master's categories in 5 year increments, plenty of
opportunity to double or triple your racing fun. Inside the road racing
loop, there's little league baseball action on field one. Field two is empty and as I lay in the shade for a pre-race nap, I drift off
admiring the fact that the field has a diamond of infield grass normally
reserved for big league ball parks. And in the distance there's a
playground filled with the happy sounds of kids enjoying a sunny
Saturday afternoon.

The Pro 1/2/3 race is 80+ riders strong and
features, in addition to the usual NYC sprinter types, a few formidable
New England teams including CCB and Embrocation Cycling Journal. This
40-mile race had three $100 primes, and was fast. Fortunately, it wasn't
the first time I've taken on this loop. This race wasn't about watts.
It was all about position, avoiding the swarm, and fighting for 40 laps
to stay up front.

In the race to the start line, I lost and was
buried too far behind. No matter, I knew the first turn well, and I knew
what would happen. Somewhere between a full on gentle sweeper and a
hard 90-degree right, I let all the studs fight for the inside line. And
while breaks were screeching, bodies bumping, I slingshot around the
outside advancing my position 20+ riders without breaking a sweat.

And so went the rest of the race. I was mostly near the pointy end of the
peloton, but every now and again, I got shuffled too far back. I was
trading positions with the likes of GS Mengoni's Eugene Borronow and
Jared Bunde for much of the first 1/2 of the race. But by the end, those
guys, along with 9 others had slipped away in a break that would never
come back. Not sure how I missed that move, but like I've said before,
many crits are easy to finish, hard to place. This was definitely the case
today. A Burrows brother and a Foundation rider (thick, white guy),
attempted to bridge. Big time fail. I see that and know that I have to
hope the break falls apart or focus on training my weaknesses (namely
"end-game") back in the chase-pack. In the end, I'm not able to contest
for a top twenty, but I'm not too far behind either. Progress.

On my way back to the car, with fatherhood just about 6 weeks away, I
couldn't help but to stop to chat with two mom-types who were sitting on
a blanket keeping a watchful eye on their adorable 8-month old boy.
Turns out, they didn't have a racer in the field! No, they had never
been to a bike race, but these local ladies stumbled upon the circus and
set up to enjoy the day in the sun, sitting in the grass, watching
racers go by. I can't wait to get my post race hugs from my baby boy
after finishing a race.

The Historic Riverton Criterium was indeed historic. The 7 turn, 1k course in RIverton New Jersey (10 miles from Philly) was lined with 150 year-old homes, trees just as old and older and plenty of neighborhood fans cheering racers on. SRAM neutral support just past the start finish, Specialized had a trailer full of bikes to test ride, 5-hour energy was throwing little bottles of not pregnancy and/or lactating mommy approved energy shots at anyone who happened to walk by their tent. The neighborhood had ice cream, home-baked cookies, and lemonade for sale.

Taking a look at the course and the field of riders who showed up to fight for their share of $2000 plus three $100 primes (collected by neighborhood ladies I learned during a pre-race chat I had with some of the locals, thanking them for hosting the race, telling them how beautiful the neighborhood was, etc), I knew that the start was going to be critical. Cyclocross critical. You guys who came to the crit clinic, remember the race to the first corner drill? It was time for me to put-up or shut-up. I saw a spot on the right with just 1-1/2 riders blocking my way. I stuck my front wheel right there immediately.

The gun goes off and the 6-foot giant next to me proceeds to fall over into me. Lovely. He apologizes, I keep calm, and click in and push ahead as fast as I can. I slot in as the field swells a bit with brakes a-squeeling. Unfortunately though, the first 20 or so of 60 starters got through clean and Keith tells me that Van Dessel Factory Team's Maurcie Ghamano is on an absolute tear.

The frequent turns both help and crush me. I survived the first two laps and by lap 3 there's less need for braking. Except those guys sliding into curbs. First wreck, I avoid and get back onto the flying field (Sarah tells me we were going 10-15 seconds faster per 1k lap than the Master's 35+ race). There's 1 lap where I'm slotted in and feeling like maybe I might survive this SOB of a race.

And then a jamoke lays it down in turn 6, a guy in back of him over-reacts, locks up his brakes and lays it down too. Big gap. I'm gassed. Guys are flying past me. I don't have the jump to get back on, and the longest uninterrupted stretch of course is coming up. Damn. No corner for me to tail gun my way back to the field. I see Kieth fly by me, but I don't have enough speed to catch onto any wheels. My stomach is in knots. No Chipolte burritos to blame this time. I'm just over my limit.

I continue to ride solo waiting, praying for them to pull me. No go. I'm not whistled off the course. I must keep going. Every race today featured a small group lapping the field. I knew I was going to get lapped. I'm riding as hard as I can as long as I can. The pace car comes around me, there's a solo rider off the front. I let him pass. Official criterium rules say that when lapped, you can ride in the pack. It never happens though. They always take you out first.

Not today, though. Are you kidding me? I have to race more. As the dwindling field passes me by, I jump on the train and I'm feeling okay. Not great, but in the mix again. For a few more laps at least. I'm down serious wattage on this legitimately semi-pro racers. Gaps start opening up in front of me, I want to reach back and give Mengoni's Eugene Borrnow a hand-sling, but we're flying by the officials at the time. He comes around me with no problem.

And after the group goes away again, I pack it in. How many laps did I make it? Well only about 8 or so altogether. But I wasn't alone. Sarah tells me that within 5 laps the field that started at 60 or so riders, was down to 30.

Watching the remaining laps, it appears that Pullo Jr (where the hell did he come from?) was in the lead group of 6 along with some dude in a Colavita kit, Foundation's Alex Bremer, Van Dessel's Gahamano and a bunch of other guys who I didn't know. They stayed away, but did not lap the field. Last year's winner Bill Eliston was stuck back in the third group. A second chase group included Foundation's Chabanov and Meran and maybe Guzman. Brian Breech was in the third group for most of the race, but came unhitched near the end-ish of the race.

Jeezus-chrissss, Bound Brook was a cake walk compared to today. I haven't done a crit this hard in quite a long time. Humbling. In just a week or so, I'll be heading home the midwest to race at the Tour of America's Dairyland, and I'll have to get much, much better if I expect to compete there.