El Tour de Tucson: I Won!

I won the Sabino Canyon Wash Prime, then flatted 15-miles later from the lead break.

Finally, my third and final shot at the Tour de Tucson! I was stoked to be heading back down to AZ this time of year to hang out with all of Kian's grandparents, and Aunt, Uncle and Cousin on the Francis side of things, but also to get out of the rain and ride my bike again in shorts.

It was warmer than past years at 630am when I nestled into the crowd for the start but it was still pretty darn dark. The gun went off at 7am sharp and I was right at the front from the get-go and didn't have to try and fight my way up there this year: I was planning to pounce on anything that moved. But the first 10-miles were pretty easy going, probably because I was at the front, and even though the lead group that had formed of about 100-200 riders was stopped for several minutes for passing train, we were never caught by the subsequent groups.

The first wash is always scary because you hit it at 25+ mph and it goes from two paved lanes down to one of dirt. I bunny-hoped the curb and hit the dirt in the top 10 and like last year was one of the first out. I've seen pictures of a stampeding herd through this and just a few minutes from now I thought how it would be a walking pace only. As past years there was a large mariachi band positioned at the end of the 100-yard long wash, but because we were the very first riders past you could tell that they had JUST begun playing... my discerning ears could pick out the missed notes and inadvertent syncopation even from the peleton at 25 miles per hour.

The next 40 or so miles until the second and final wash is all about staying in position so that you don't have to panic when those final narrow streets come. I stayed in the top 5-50 riders and like in all races was often frustrated when you'd find yourself slipping back with nowhere to go and no way to get up there without another 15 minutes of struggle. If you've been in a competitive peleton before you understand, but if you haven't, its almost impossible to make it really clear. When we finally came to that first little dog-ear to the right that takes us off the main road and onto the narrow streets around Sabino Canyon, I was sitting a little further back than I wanted, maybe 20th, and I decided to attack up the inside to pick up some spots even though we were break-necking it at 30+ mph: it reminded me of racing in Colombia, out of hand! It was only a half-mile to the entrance of the wash and I hit it in no further back than 5th. I was "on your right"ing-it and on-your-left"ing-it a few times to avoid getting tangled up with those few riders in the deepening sand, but I rode the entire length of the wash, maybe 150-200 yards, save for the final 20 when it just got too deep, say 10", and when I jumped on the bike and heard that beautiful clicking sound of my shoes engauging the pedals, I was in first place.

Here's a video of the first grouppo through the wash. Pretty boring really, but its the proof I needed. I needed it because at the end of the race it was all I had. I think I finished... well, I'll leave you hanging til later....





I hit the pavement running and there were 3 or 4 guys on my wheel as I pushed it hard up through the community and then up over the first nasty little kicker of a climb. I knew that at the top of this climb those riders in the lead group would probably make up what would be the winning move. 14 of us formed and we didn't waste much time getting organized and extending the lead a bit, but then it wasn't that much longer either before the attacks started coming.

Of the 14, 4 were from the winning Mexican team from last year which included rider #2, last years winner, and there were 2 or 3 other teams present with 2 riders each. Everyone else was solo including a pro from BMC, a national teamer, Robbie Ventura (2 or 3 time former winner), Michael Grabinger (winner from 2 years ago) and the rest unknown to me but obviously pretty serious racers. I read in the paper the next day that Jonas Carey flatted out in the wash, and had I known this at the time I would have been pleased, but after the race I felt pretty damn sorry for him: lets just say I knew how he felt.

More later...