Wheelworks.co.nz, Handbuilt wheels by Tristan Thomas

James Coyle’s race report from the Elite race at Taupo

Recently I completed the annual round-Taupo race in a little over 4hrs. The race marked the completion of a 6 month personal odyssey back into bicycle racing for me. I wanted to mark the end of my racing season with a bbq for the people I have met during this time, but I have too been to busy to organise one so far, so I thought I would write this post instead.

I’m no Joao Correia, but growing up in Rotorua (home of 1994 Commmonwealth Games Road Race gold-medalist Mark Rendell and other assorted nineties cyclists who turned pro) I trained a lot as a junior in high school and raced sometimes. I was average back then: Although a 65-67 kilo grimpeur, I lacked the strength to stay in the bunch when the bigger guys started pushing hard gears over rolling or flat terrain. Lack of success in hanging in there meant I never developed the bike racer’s commitment to constantly fighting for every advantage possible needed to succeed, or riding till think your heart and lungs will explode, then riding some more. Truth was, I probably just didn’t do enough intervals or enough races to properly get the hang of it.

Anyway, 11 years, 11 kilos, university and a couple of careers later something urged me to get back on my bike with the objective of being able to race again. I didn’t want to win the Nationals or turn pro or anything, I just wanted to say that I had raced hard and to have the feeling of staying among a bunch travelling at 40km/hr+ for the duration of a race. I decided to dedicate about six months to training and racing, with the objective of riding a competitive time at Taupo (the perennial mecca for middle-age white guy’s trying to recapture their youth).

At 78 kilos, losing weight was of course priority number one, but justifiably so. You don’t have to have invented the VAM formula to understand what a difference one less kilo (let alone eight less kilos) makes to your ability to ride at a certain speed uphill and to sustain it. I certainly found this to be true. The consequential dieting required an amount of self discipline outside of the discipline needed to get up at 5.30am to go training in the mornings. It was made harder by the long-ish hours required in a law office (although they were pretty good about it) and you are tired alot.

However, it began to feel worth it once club racing started in August and national-level racing started in September, where I was firmly in B-grade. At the end of September I rode the Taupo-Napier of which I was terrified. Matt Yates finished 25 minutes before I did that day, but this fact was massively outweighed by the fact I had just raced a 140kms. I was very excited because I had never done this before. Riding a 140kms is easy. Racing the same distance is an entirely different proposition. In all, I competed in 16 Club races or National points races in the 4 months prior to Taupo.

Possibly my biggest regret, but equally a race from which I took great satisfaction, was failing to podium at the Martinborough fun ride. Laugh all you like, but the Wheelworks big guns – Hagen-das, Naylor and Taylor, Kendall and Coombes (I think) were busy crushing K2 that day. With the exception of Craig Lawn (who disappeared up the road early anyway), I had the field to myself with only the elder statesmen of Wellington cycling, the Meo-GP team, to worry about. I felt strong and rode in two breaks. The second break was too far from the finish and we got caught in headwinds. I know I could have podiumed if I had stuck to my original plan (to break away up a short hill at 5k out, that the bunch had slowed on all day).

Taupo itself was a bit of an anti-climax as I got sick two weeks before and training was difficult. Still, being on the start line with a list of riders who I am used to watching in Europe on tv was reward enough for the last 6 months. As was trying to look pro as I slooped by the SkyTV moto early in the race.

Next year is going to be taken up with some other things, but at 30, I think I can still keep improving for a few more years after that. I’d like to ride the Tours of Wellington or Southland as a domestique at some point.

Above all, the moments I will remember the most during my short racing season (I know the “season” is really only starting for elite riders) were:

* The moment mid-race when you’ve surivived early on and now your bunch is monstering the course at 50km an hour, and you are sitting in feeling great;
* Hilarious car journeys out and back to races with the Wheelworks team guys (Tristan I expect the UCI will ask you revisit your policy on team vehicle names when you go Pro-Tour);
* Sitting on the wind-trainer out the back of the house in the rain late at night in the dark in the middle of winter listening to the I-pod waiting for the weather to get better and the racing to start; and
* Attempting repeated hill batterings with Naylor – him succeeding, me usually losing my dignity by the 5th or 6th rep;

Divine genetic decisions blessed me with a somewhat pathetic engine meaning that I’m never going to ride to the level of some of the guys in the Wheelworks team. But the fact is that I love riding my bike and most of the time, I just enjoyed trying to hang on behind, while they lit up races and animated training rides. I admire their ability tremendously.

‘Till next year.

- James, who loves bike riding

Chris Kendall’s Race report from this weekend’s Festival of Cycling in Christchurch

Its not about the result. Sometimes its about setting a plan and sticking to it regardless of the situation that unfolds in front of you. But when the ship looks like its sinking its hard to stay put with confidence while others around you are diving into deep water in an effort get to the shore before everyone else.

I’m a pretty good swimmer, I’ll always get to the shore if I decide to jump in, I just need to get the timing right so that I have the best opportunity to get there before those that jump early. Its about timing, patience and looking after yourself as best as you can. Its something I’ve been trying to work on recently.

Its required me to hit the reset button as part of my training and racing. I’ve done the form finder loops, clocked up some hard miles, worked on my strength and speed, now I’m working on my mental game. Speed and strength are easy, mental well that’s a different story.

I’ve raced my mountain bike for nearly ten years and the mental challenges for that are pretty simple. Push yourself as hard as you can for about 2 hours and leave everything you have on the trail. It gets more complicated than that when the heats on and there are lots of riders around you, but its always about pushing as hard as you can to ensure you’ve used every ounce of strength and energy to get your best possible result. This crosses over well to the road in ITT’s (a mountain bike race is essentially the same as two 40k ITT’s back to back) but doesn’t really help you in the chess on wheels that is a road race.

I’m learning my limits on the road, and have been frustrated recently with some results that haven’t reflected my current form. This has been as a consequence of my enthusiasm more than anything else, I’ve just wanted to show how well I’m riding by riding as hard as I can. Unfortunately that doesn’t always work.

The Festival of Cycling in Christchurch on the weekend was a course that I thought would suit me, and I was hoping for a good result. It’s a shortish (76km) course with a flat first fifty kilometres and a rolling last thirty. More than anything I knew I would have to use my head to do well on this course. It was a great test for my ability to follow a plan.

The plan was simple, stay out of trouble, stay off the front as much as possible and stick with everyone once we hit the hills.. Easy.

It was a fast start, rolling around the base of Banks Peninsula at around 50km/hr. Unfortunately this was a little too fast for some resulting in a big pile up after approximately 5km. Memories of my only Tour of Southland came flooding back all to quickly as bodies and bikes hit the road bouncing into the path of those that had nowhere to go. I have no idea how many came down (it looked like half the field, but wasn’t), but I was lucky enough to have lost position corners earlier and managed to narrowly miss the crash through some very evasive action.

The race didn’t stop, which meant that those of us behind the crash had to motor to get back on. This was particularly difficult given there were attacks happening non-stop on the front which kept the peloton speed high. I pulled a couple of times to help out but was conscious of how fast we were travelling (50+) and didn’t want to drag everyone else back on the before blowing a foo foo valve and riding the rest of the day on my own. Thankfully there were some small rollers which slowed the peloton down enough that we could almost make contact, before finally getting there as we crossed Colombo Street. Tucked in behind Hayden Roulston as we passed Princess Margret Hospital the pace started to lift again as more attacks tried to establish a winning break. However nothing stuck and we ended up hitting Gebbies pass in a large bunch.

From here it was everyman for himself as a group of 7 (I think – I was cross-eyed when they went for it) established the winning break. For the rest of us it was about getting to the finish to scrap for the remaining top ten places that were on offer.

I managed to hang in there to be in the second group on the road at the top of the last climb up Evans Pass. I’d followed my plan and was still feeling pretty good, despite the presence of some cramp creeping in. With 7 flat kilometres counting down very quickly the attacks were many, with the pace high all the way to the finish. I followed two moves but realized it was a little too much for me to handle all the way to the finish. With 1.3k to go there was one acceleration to many and at 55kph a gap opened that I couldn’t close, It felt like a parachute opening. I did get a second (it might have been the eighth actually) burst of energy out of the hair pin corner with 1.1 k to go but quickly faded into the head wind wind trailing the bunch by about 20 seconds across the line.

I would have loved to have been in for a chance with the sprint but I threw my dice with 7k to go. I’m happy with that. I’d done everything I had said I would do and was stoked to have been there when the fireworks began (admittedly this was 2 minutes behind the leading riders on the road but one of them has at least a couple of shinny medals).

So its not always about the result (31st overall, 14th open men: for those of you it does matter to), sometimes its about executing a plan to give yourself the best possible chance of a result.

I know that I’m riding strong at the moment. I just need to know the schedule of the boat for next time or maybe which way the tides going so I can decide about swimming….

Andy Hagan’s race report after 7th place in the Elite field around Taupo

The team strategy was simple. Work hard to get at least one, and hopefully more, of the team off the front and into the break. You have to make the race at Taupo. The course and the field – a combination of elite racers out to win, and others less motivated, or just looking to go sub 4 hours – lend themselves to a race that is usually defined by a shitfight to get a group off the front followed by the bunch shutting down and those lucky or good enough to make the front fighting out the win. We knew this. Confidence was high that this task would be completed by following the moves until the break went. If we missed it we would just shut it down – we thought. The team was feeling good.

Arriving at the start at 6.15am on a beautiful Taupo Saturday the first cracks in the aura of confidence began to appear. There’s Julian; Gordy just rode past; Pure Black have heaps of guys; Bevin’s here; were thoughts going through my head. The field was stacked with quality guys. The significant prize pool no doubt motivating many.

Taupo has a bitch of a start. The first 40km is basically a constant barrage of short steep power climbs – not my forte – and the early start means it’s hard to get a proper warm up in. Down the hill and up the other side out of Taupo and I could already feel the lactate building, with not only the hitters, but the lesser lights, climbing past me. Confidence hit number two. We had agreed that we had to be vigilant and at the front from the start, and here I was 3/4s of the way down the field already. This is hurting.

Still I persevered, the fact that I could see Greg and Mike where they should be further up motivated me to move up too. As the race went on I warmed into it and did indeed move up. Executing the plan was next on the agenda. The guys, Greg in particular, were doing a great job following the early moves allowing me to take it (relatively) easy and watch the action from a good position. Constant attacks up the hills were followed by others shutting it down and another going. The pace was high, so high that it was hard just to follow the peloton let alone the moves. We covered 41km in the first hour over very hilly terrain. So much for “Well just get someone in the break and that’ll be it”. Still we were executing close to what we planned, with a Wheelworks rider in most of the moves.

After 40 odd minutes, and a long section of climbing, it became apparent that people were getting tired. Gaps that normally would have be shut quickly were lingering. Time to be vigilant. Sure enough, up one of the tougher pinch climbs a Pure Black rider attacked, a few followed. Next thing I knew a couple of Subway’s, Yates and some other big names were going across. Time to go. NOW. As we crested the top of the climb I managed to bridge across using maximal effort. I hung on down the other side and braced myself for another full on sprint to hold the group. At the top of the next pinch I looked back to see that the 14 or so of us had opened a significant gap. This was THE move.

The next 10-15km was full on, max effort to sustain the lead. Around me were pro riders, Olympic medallists, and world champions. With it being threshold effort just to hold the group, and all the big names around, it was pretty daunting. The confidence slipped a touch more. I can’t hang here, although never did my determination to try slip, and never did I miss a turn (in fact I probably did more than was fair). If I get dropped at least I made the break I thought.

Soon though, the gap was confirmed, and the intensity eased. I began to feel more comfortable. Even on the climbs where Michael Vink in particular was pushing the pace. Still, my belief in myself wasn’t what it normally is, even though I had begun to realise I’m good enough to be here. I began to second guess things that are second nature for me normally – lapping through, following wheels and the like suddenly seemed more complicated. “If I get dropped on Kuratau it will still have been a good day” was the thought rather than “how can I win this”.

The hills around Taupo are incessant. You climb 1,700m plus without ever going higher than 600m above sea level or below 350m. Each one saps a bit of strength. We reached Kuratau quickly though. That climb was good for me. I went up second wheel behind the aptly named Aaron Strong without too much difficulty, grabbing a bottle and appreciating the support of Tristan and Jules on the side of the road.

Hatepe was the next obstacle after the long flat section after Kuratau. We got no time checks during this period which told me we had a good gap. I found out later it was 10 minutes plus. Everyone knew this would be the place that it would go, being the last major obstacle on the course. After a nervous approach, with people jettisoning water, bottles and even food to cut the weight, Jeremy Yates launched the first major attack taking five others with him. I hesitated a moment too long, with hindsight my lack of confidence in the presence of these others probably caused this. The normal go they’re hurting was replaced by hold on. I found myself in a chase group of five. Upfront were Yates, Mike Northey, Tim Gudsell, Joe Cooper, Aaron Strong and Patrick Bevin. Behind I was chasing with Roman Van Uden, Glen Chadwick, Justin Kerr and Michael Vink. Greg Marfell, Peter Latham and Sam Bewley had fallen further behind on the climb.

Over the top and along the flat approach to Taupo the five of us chased hard to closed the gap, succeeding just before the airport climb after taking advantage of the convoy at the very end. I’m in at the kill, stay calm, use the teams, you have a chance.

Pure Black were keen to shut it down, with 3 versus 8 much better odds than 1 versus 5. Roman attacked with Justin Kerr as soon as we bridged. I thought about going but recalled that there were still 9km to go. Subway will shut down the move. When your solo in a group with teams represented you have to gamble a touch as it is too hard to follow everything. There were still 3 Pure Blacks and 2 Subways.

A few moves followed, with lulls and sprints and the looking at each other that comes with a flat run in at the end of a long race. Roman and Justin stayed tantalisingly close but still ahead as the line moved closer and closer. It’s not up to me to chase it down. Unfortunately for me, there was too much looking and not enough sprinting and it became clear the lead two would take the major silverware.

Round the final bend and we lined up for the sprint for third. I rolled in mid group for seventh, with Roman winning a few seconds ahead. Justin Kerr and Patrick Bevin rounded out the podium. All in all I was really happy with the result, perhaps rueing my slight lack of confidence at some key moments, although in the end it didn’t matter too much. Both first and second places were filled by riders that, like me, were caught on the wrong side of the split over Hatepe.

The main bunch rolled in a few minutes after us with Greg, Mike and Dan there. Chris came in in the next bunch, having been shelled after following a move early in the race. This to me is the very essence of teamwork, as his effort (as with the others’) allowed me to rest early on knowing Wheelworks was represent in the move.

In the Woman’s race Janine performed brilliantly, meeting her pre race goals and finishing 17^th in another quality field. I’ll leave her to tell that story.

The rest of the day was very enjoyable. The prize giving was held in beautiful weather and was very entertaining. No car though. A special “shout out” to the guy hyping up the BMX guys. What a legend. Although I’m not sure that the crowd knew what to make of his obvious talents. A team barbeque rounded out the day.

John-Joe Fraser deserves a special mention also, completing the solo as a tribute to his wife Patricia who was killed training for the event. He received a deserved standing ovation when collecting his award and spoke with unbelievable composure during what was an obviously emotional moment. The guts and courage he showed makes completing a bike race look trivial.

CHECK OUT THE STATS:

Another weekend; another early start.  James, Mike and Greg were around just after 730 to load up the Falcoon for the drive to Otaki.  We met Chris, Janine and Andy up there to compete in the Kevin Smith Memorial race.

This 52km handicap race would be my first time starting in Scratch.  I’ve been in no-mans land the past few races stuck between B grade and Elite and the realization had dawned on me that the only way I was going to improve was jump into the deep end and try to keep my head above water with the quick boys.

Our 12-strong Scratch bunch were let off 15 minutes after Limit – enough time for the Limit riders to complete a full lap of the 7.4km circuit and lap us before we’d even started!

When the gun went we got straight to business, and other than some mis-direction at the first turn, the pace was high and consistant.

The course was a fantastic undulating route on traffic-free back roads.  The lap started with a power-climb followed by a long kilometer of false flat and it was no secret that this is where the move would be made on the final lap.  Based on the pace and my heartrate on the first lap I wasn’t sure I’d be there on the final lap to worry about the move.

To my surprise as the laps counted down, the rain started, and riders were dropped I was still there.  I certainly missed more than a few turns at the front, especially on the false-flat where I lacked the horsepower to roll over the top of the other boys.  But I held on, and that felt pretty good.

On the final lap we caught the large Break group just before the start of the power climb – not ideal for me as I knew Andy was going to attack on the climb to ensure the large bunch didn’t get a free tow to the finish line.  I made sure I was near the front and got ready to eat shit.  I held on for the climb and most of the false-flat but when Andy attacked on the last lump I dropped the wheel infront of me and ended up off the back with Chris and a couple of Break riders who had managed to hold on.

We tried to get back to the leaders along the fast flat section but to no avail, and after a long pull on the front my legs were pretty poked.  As I rolled off the front Chris took advantage and took-off taking the rest of the group with him and leaving me riding solo.  Thanks buddy :-P

Up front Wheelworks riders Greg, Andy and Mike were still being chased by Findlay but unfortunately coming into the last downhill, wet corner Findlay overcooked it and slid off onto the grass shoulder.  The three boys finished up in that order for a clean sweep.

Thanks to Rachel Anderson-Smith for putting on a great race in memory of her father, and to the many volunteers who gave up a day’s riding to stand in the rain holding back traffic.  I remember the day Kevin died – I’d left work and rode past the ambulances on Brooklyn hill oblivious to the heart attack he’d suffered.

I won’t be racing Taupo but will be up there to help feed the boys at Kuratau so look for a race report next weekend.

By Chris Kendall

I am not Fabian Cancellara… Now repeat… I should have had this written on my stem yesterday.

Unfortunately I don’t think I would have read it many times anyway,  as I was already looking 115km towards the finish line as soon as we started yesterdays road race.

I was surprised to find that I had good feelings in my legs and was relatively fresh, with a very poor warm up, a long ride the day before and a restless nights sleep I had feared the worst and was pleasantly surprised to find otherwise.  However good legs are only going to be helpful in a road race if you use them…. but not too much. 30km after the start, and after attempting three breaks, my good legs were turning bad and I was starting to realise that 115km is a long way. The bunch was still together, despite me thinking I was riding people off the back (I am definitely not Fabian Cancellara), and I had realised that hiding in the bunch would have been a much better idea. Queue crosswinds. No long after I had realised the error of my ways when I saw Tosh, Backy and Meo moving up from the back of the bunch. Alarm bells sounded, I hadn’t even realised two of those three were there, and I knew it was best that I move from my brief moment of protection from the wind to the pointy end again, something big was probably about to go down. Impeccable timing meant that I was at the front, along with the rest of the boys, to drive it hard in the crosswind and turn this fun ride on its ear. In the traditions of HTC and CSC we managed to gap it with the leading bunch shelled down to 13 just before Alfredton.

There was little respite from there with a few keen to keep turning the screws to ensure that there was to be no more fun had at this ride. By now I was really struggling, and my early antics and general bad timing had meant that I hadn’t eaten anything since kilometre zero, one hour and 20 minutes later I was feeling the pinch. One thing stood between me and my energy boost (aka GU and a muesli bar) and that was the two longest climbs of the day, which showed up sooner than expected. As we hit the bottom of the first hill I put the unconsumed gel back in my pocket and stared blankly at the wheel in front of me, I knew my heart rate monitor was blinking numbers at me that I really didn’t need to see, and I thought my head was going to explode. The crest of the hill could not be seen and I was drifting. I hate power climbs, and this was the perfect shelling ground for those that had power in greater reserves than me. As the bungee started to stretch to breaking point the crest I had been praying for came into sight, I grabbed another gear, gritted my teeth and gave more than I had to get back to the last wheel.

The descent was heaven for crossed eyed climbers that were about to drop of the back, but it was simply a roll onto the next climb. Crap. At least I’d eaten my gel now. The second climb didn’t seem as bad as the first, but that was little consolation. The head wind was slowing progress of the boys on the front and assisting me at the back a great deal. This was just as well given the previous kilometres were now really taking their toll. At the back I could see others were struggling and drifting, the fact that they were in front of me was of major concern. I got a second wind and started to close the gap again, only to see it open just as quickly as it had the first time. As we approached what I thought was the summit I gave it everything I had to try to get back to the shelter from the wind in the shadow of the other riders. It wasn’t the summit. There was still more to go, more that I didn’t have. Tosh slowed to an almost complete halt beside me and I was struggling not to do the same. Its agonising seeing those in front of you drop of the pace, especially when all you think you need is someone to help you claw back on the climb. Once we hit the descent the gap was growing  and the winds ensured it would not be closed again.

I had nothing left in the tank but continued to push on just in case the front group, or the wind, eased a little. But it didn’t. Suddenly 60km to the finish seemed like a lot further, and more intimidating, than 115km was at the start of the day. So in the wind and the rain Tristan and I rolled through, picking up some of the other shrapnel that had been discarded along the way, it took the best part of half an hour before were we caught by the second bunch on the road. Time enough to get some much needed food on board.

From there it was a solid ride to the finish, but not the same pace as those in front. My good legs did come back and with a few big turns to make myself feel better about the morning’s stupidity we were home.

Meanwhile at the front of the race Andy Mike, Greg and Dan were rolling through like the Magenta express in the final selection of eight riders. Despite best efforts to tear everyone apart through the rolling terrain at end of the race Andy couldn’t quite make it work and came in second to Lawny, the fun ride hard man, who completed a clean sweep of sorts in the Taupo lead up races.

I was disappointed in my result, but more disappointed in my tactics. I am not Fabian Cancellara, but its easy to think that you can do what he does, especially when you feel like you’re a motorbike at the start  of the day. The hardest thing about racing, and the toughest lesson to be learnt (or be taught by others), is that the strongest rider doesn’t always win. It is the one that uses their strength most effectively. Most days you’re better to wear the invisible cloak, particularly when you’ve got good legs, Oscar Freire and Thor Hushovd are two great exponents of this. It’s something I thought I had learnt along time ago. Sunday was definitely a refresher course; hopefully I’ll have the nous to remember that for next time…

Till next time.

Kendall

I’ve talked about doing K2 – the 192km race around the Coromandel – for a couple of years and this year I was roped-in to make the trip.

The race was probably the mentally hardest things I’ve done on a bike. I’d had a really poor sleep the night before – a combo of being anxious and having a bed which was canted at a 45 degree angle and squeaked every time I so much as breathed. As a result I was tired and not in a great headspace. My legs felt good for the first 150km but the final three short and sharp climbs really took the sting out of me, and the final 3.4km climb was just brutal. Every time I got out of the saddle my legs would cramp, so I’d have to sit down and just grind it out and 50rpm. Yuck. It’s hard to bluff your way past 4h on the bike and I was found-out in that final hour.

I finished up just inside the top-twenty with a time of 5:38. I’ll be back next year with a bit more form, a few more long rides in the legs, and a better night-before bed :-)

Many thanks to those who said hello during the race – sorry if I wasn’t too chatty but I was going through a few layers of hurt :-)

In the Elite race the Wheelworks boys did really well and were riding for Andy. As per the plan Mike launched an attack from the gun and picked up a few KOM points on the first climb but the bunch wouldn’t let roam free and they chased him down. The fast pace on the early climbs put the pressure on Chis and Greg which wasn’t part of the plan. “Wellington surprise” Andy Hagan rode extremely well and stuck with eventual winner Jeremy Yates and Brad Carter when the three of them broke away at Whitianga and he rolled across the line after 5:09 in third place.

In the Elite woman’s K1 race Janine finished in an awesome 15th place against an amazingly strong field.  Kirsten finished 5th overall and 1st woman in the Nicholas Browne Challenge but unfortunately because of course / timing Stu the photographer didn’t manage to snap any photos of the two gals.

As always I had a great weekend away with these guys and girls – the food was good, the banter was good, and despite the look on my face in some of the photos the bike racing was good.

I’m back in the workshop today. I’ll be spending the morning responding to emails and call-backs and I’m looking forward to cracking into the wheelbuilds this afternoon.

After a long week at work I was pretty tired and the horrible weather on Friday night made the idea of staying in bed much more appealing than waking at 6:15am on a Saturday but I woke with the alarm and after an espresso I loaded up the car and headed to pick up the others.  Mike and Andy both looked how I felt: heavy eyelids and a look of apprehension.

We traveled up to Whangaui in the Falcon.  The traffic at this time of the morning was non-existent and Friday’s rain and wind had given way to clear blue skies and views of the snow-capped Tauruas.

A few hours later we passed through Whanganui and arrived at the race course to find a very technical descent (with a railway crossing in the middle) followed by a punchy 1km climb about 2km before the finish line.  The technical descent added to my apprehension but I liked the idea of a half-descent climb within a stones throw of the finish and I made a mental note to get to the front of the bunch for the descent.

We registered and were issued the most amazing race numbers: they were thick, heavy material with hand-written numbers and were so wide that they wrapped around to the front of the jersey!  No digital timing tags here.

We had plenty of time so we jumped back in the car and drove the course: A flat start, fast downhill, then a bit lumpy before heading back on State Highway 3 with two decent climbs before turning off the main road into the technical descent, 1km climb, and flat to the finishline.  In B grade I’d have to do 4 laps of this course for a total of 90km, Mike and Andy in A grade would have to do 5 laps for a total of 112km.

I was riding the wide Velocity A23 wheels with DT Swiss hubs – these aren’t as fast as carbon race wheels but the road-holding and amazing feel of these wheels has made them my favorites to ride.

I found the pace from the start to be comfortable so I stayed near the front and lapped out in the thought that a break would form.  One guy made repeated attacks off the front but wasn’t able to make anything stick and no one wanted to go with him.

I had no problems on the two climbs on SH3 and each lap I made sure to be near the front of the group for the descents.  The descent over the train tracks was a lot of fun with great traction in the corners and I found myself really looking forward to this descent on each lap, plus it put me in a good position for the 1km climb which followed.  The climb was steep enough to suit my strengths and was too long for the powerful riders to take advantage.

Any New Zealand race isn’t complete without interference from the local livestock and on lap 3 we were stopped by the cows crossing the road on their way to milking.  A couple of lucky guys who had been dropped on the climb managed to get back on and no one seems to complain about having a rest for a couple of minutes.

On the final lap Kerry jumped clear on the first climb.  I let him go and expected the bunch to work together to bring him back, but this wasn’t the case and he quickly left us behind.  On the second climb I upped the pace hoping to split the bunch or have someone go with me, but near the top I glanced back to see I was 50 meters off the front of the bunch and alone.  Figuring I’d get caught on the flat section I sat up and went back to the bunch.

The pace was reasonably quick along the flat section into the descent and I entered it in first wheel.  This put me in a good position at the base of the final climb and a group of three of us broke clear of the group.  We worked well together over the top of the climb and managed to catch Kerry with about 600m to go.  Going into the final straight I was in last wheel which was the perfect position.  It was a head wind combined with a slightly uphill finishline and I knew I had to wait and go late.  Two of the guys infront bumped together quite hard and I didn’t want to crash so when they bumped together for a second time I jumped to the right side of the road and went early for the sprint.  I went too early though and could only muster 3rd.

In the A grade Joe Cooper solo’d off the front and finished with about 1 min over the remnants of the bunch.

Andy had a stunning sprint through the bunch which was reminiscent of Robbie McEwen’s darting and diving and managed to finish 4th for the sprint and 5th overall – an awesome job considering the quality of the field. Mike rolled in a minute behind the front bunch for 11th place of the 25 strong field.

We loaded up the car and after prize giving headed for a kebab at Jabies in Bulls to spend the prize money.  We talked trash the whole drive home and by the time I’d dropped the boys off, unloaded the car and jumped in the shower it was 9:45pm – certainly a long day!

This was the first time any of us had done the Whanganui GP and it was a really well organized event with great marshals – many thanks to Wanganui Cycling for putting on such a great day!

Paul O’Connell joined Christine and I in the car for day 4 – this is how the day panned out in his words: paul.w.oconnell@gmail.com

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Day 3 of the Tour of Wellington was a 165km stage from Masterton to Pahiatua and back.  With only 5 seconds between Michael Torkler in the yellow jersey and second place, and another 12 riders within 2 minutes of leading the race we knew this was going to be a fast stage.

The close time gaps meant there were plenty of teams trying to launch a rider up the road for a break, and plenty of other teams wanting to prevent loosing position by allowing a break to form and the result was a fast race from the gun.

This stage was the most exciting to watch from the team car as attack after attack tried to break free of the peleton.  Each attack would be covered by the peleton and as soon as it was brought back another rider would counter-attack and try again, and the first hour of racing covered 42km – not bad considering the 5km neutral start, the headwind, and this part of the course being gradually uphill!

The first 60km were ridden single-file as the elastic stretched in the peleton.  After 60km, as water bottles were running low, the pace eased a little and teams started feeding from the cars, but as soon as everyone had a drink the pace was lifted and again the peleton formed a long, single-file line.

Our boys are better climbers than they are timetrialists and they all did exceptionally well to withstand the high pace and finish with the bunch.

Stage 2 of the Tour of Wellington led the boys over 127 kilometers of the Wairapa countryside including the nasty Limeworks climb and finishing at the top of the 12km Admiral Hill.

The pace from the gun was high and the first hour of racing the boys had covered more than 41km…impressive when you remember the first 5 km was under neutral!  Early breaks were trying to get away but the bunch wouldn’t let them and the first 60km flew by.

The heat was taking it’s toll and we were called up a few times in the team car to provide water for our riders.  All of the boys were going well and they handled the high pace and stayed really calm.

The bunch stayed together until Limeworks – this was the first big climb of the day and those with an eye on GC took the opportunity to tighten the screws.

After a hair-raising descent back to the valley floor the last climb up Admiral Hill began.  Our guys climbed really well and Andy was the first of our team across the line about 6 minutes down on the stage winner, Michael Tockler.

Tomorrow is a long 165km stage up to Pahaitua – it’s going to be fast but after a wicked spagbol for dinner the boys will be ready :-)