Word to the wise: Don't crash at a national championshp trying to "Make it" in cycling.

In the late 90's, national criterium championships were held in my state. I had been having a good, but not stellar year. I was on my way up through cycling and fighting for every place in every race.

Where I lived at the time was mecca for American pro cyclists. Even local races resembled a who's who of American pro cycling. As a result, us amateurs were usually left to fight for the scraps as the top 5 or 10 places in each race were taken by brand name American pro's who you'd read about in Velonews the week before.

It was a a local distinction to be the "first amateur." And on more and more occasions, I was that guy.

I was a category 2 at the time. So, I could race the pro 1/2 race with the big boys, and being a cat. 1 was largely an academic distinction. Regardless, I had been flogging myself like a rented donkey week in and week out to try and break the stranglehold the pros had on the local races.

When it was announced that National Criterium Champs would be in our state, accompanied by a glitzy, big money crit on the next day, it was also announced that nationals would be cat. 1 only, and the crit on the next day would be Pro/1 only.

It was time for me to try and upgrade.

Fortunately, my team director had been lobbying for me to get my upgrade for some time. I didn't have enough upgrade points but, my director went to the local USA Cycling rep and plead my case almost weekly. Ok, it was more like nagging.

"He's always 'The Top Amateur' he said.

"He's on his way up!" he said.

The local rep finally relented.

With conditions...

She said, with regard to the upcoming weekend of racing: "You can have your cat. 1 upgrade. BUT... If you quit or get dropped, it's right back to cat. 2 for you."

I was in my 20's and cavalier. "No problem" I said.

No pressure.

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The weekend arrived.

Day 1 was National Criterium Championships. Every eligible amateur in America rolled into my town. My team was putting the race on so I had done a sponsor gig at a local restaurant the previous night. Hardly the best race prep but, it was the cost of being on the team.

But, also because my team was putting the race on, I got a call up at the start and the prime first row start position!

I stood on the line and savored the moment as the announcer called my name. That doesn't happen at National Championships very often.

The gun went off and we ROCKETED off the line. The race was chaotic for the first 20 minutes but then settled down. I didn't have any competent team mates in the race so I was on my own. However, I had gotten pretty good at free-lancing races.

I had a stab at a breakaway mid race but, despite being able to slip away, I couldn't seem to tempt any other riders with me.

The race was going to come to a sprint.

I have a personal rule that I start preparing the field sprint with 15 or 10 laps to go. I started moving into position early and arrived at the front just in time.

As the pace heated up things got more and more chaotic. Finally, with 4 or 5 laps to go, there was a crash. The horrible sound of grinding metal and carbon fiber.
At the front of the race.

And down I went.

We were inside the last 5 laps so there were no more free laps for mishaps. DAMN IT!!

I wrestled my bike out of the pile of bikes and bodies.

And realized there was a golf ball sized hole in the down tube.

Fortunately, carbon fiber fails locally, not globally. (It was a Trek OCLV frame)

In a panic I climbed back on and chased like mad for the final few laps. Trailing in behind the pack.

I hadn't quit or dropped out so I was good for the moment.

That night I arranged to borrow a bike from a friend. It was my size, a Klein aluminum frame. Light and stiff.

The following day's race dawned and it was pouring rain.

Shit...

And there were going to be pro's at this race. I spent 2 years racing on the cobbles in the rain in Belgium and I've always been confident racing in the rain. I felt good.

The team put me on the front of the race early to keep an eye on things because they knew I could handle the rain. The problem was that the bike was stiffer and twitchier than I was used to. And the harder I worked it through the turns, the more it skittered around on the wet pavement.

The race was rocketing to a wet, slippery, fast conclusion. But... in a sprint. And that's something I could do.

On the last lap we came barreling out of the last turn and headed down the long finishing stretch to the sprint. I stayed in and among the wheels until we got close and then stepped on the gas.

And nothing happened. I wasn't gaining positions.

But I wasn't losing any either.

I ended up in 19th.

IN THE MONEY!!

And I got to keep my cat. 1 upgrade.

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