Joslyn wanted to ride in a race down in Dangriga, a coastal city about 80 miles away. He didn't have a car, and he asked if I could drive them (his two sons, his son's friend, and himself) to the race. I thought this would be a good cultural activity for for some of my students, so I agreed.
He wanted me to race, but I was pretty uncertain, I took my bike, but thought maybe I would just ride around during the race.
We got to Dangriga, and race fever was in full force at the town roundabout. The start line was marked, and the police motorcycle waiting the lead the race. There were a bunch of cars and motorcycles both driving support, and just to watch.
Before I knew what was happening, Joslyn had me signed up as a team member with his little group, and I hesitantly lined up with the racers (see the pics). One man from Dangriga came up to me, and told me not to steal the race from the locals. I assured him I was just riding for fun, and no way would I be winning. He seemed quite happy about this.
The race started, and there was a big surge as they left town, about 20 racers. I had expected this, and I held back, knowing it was a waste of energy so early in the race (a 35 mile out and back road race). Actually I didn't even know how long the race was as we started, I only figured it out when we got to the 17.5 turnaround point!
So I was last on the road, but as they slowed, after about 2 miles I was back in the middle of the main group, just enjoying the draft, and cruising at about 25, Then a guy in front of me crossed wheels with a guy in front of him and went down. I was maybe 6 inches from his rear wheel, and I couldn't do anything but go right over him, so I went down myself. I somehow only got a little road rash on my knee. I saw my water bottles go flying, and as one hit the ground, the top came off, the precious contents quickly flowing out. I jumped up, grabbed my bottles, made sure the other rider was okay (several support cars had stopped and were helping him up) and I straightened my brake lever, and took off. I thought "Well, now I'm out of the main group, I can just ride at my own pace".
I decided I didn't want to ride the whole thing without someone to draft, and I got in a aero position, and started to chase down a group of riders, about a mile ahead of me now. As I did so I noticed the guy who fell, behind me on my wheel. As we continued, with me at the lead, we caught up with Joslyn's 10 year old son, and I shouted for him to get in line too. I finally, after about 5 miles, I caught a guy who was chasing the main group. I wanted to draft for awhile and recover from chasing to catch up after the wreck. As soon as I got on his wheel to draft him he swerved and accelerated, trying to drop me and those drafting me. Wanting his draft I reeled him in and he surged again. He did this a few times, and I finally shouted (perhaps too much adrenalin?) that I wasn't going to let him drop me. He settled down, and after a few more minutes, catching my breath, I decided to bridge up to the main group, and I passed him, with my little group of drafters behind me, and about 10 miles into the race I caught the larger group, including Joslyn and his older son Joslyn Jr. Jr was favored to win, so everyone was watching him. I asked and was told this was the lead group, about 10 guys. I was surprised, but felt good, so I thought I would stay with them as long as I could.
I was getting thirsty in the heat, and from the high pace, and I was glad I still had the other water bottle, and that I had stuffed a Gateraid in my jersey pocket at the last moment. I was even gladder for the Gateraid when I reached for the other water bottle, and found it now had a big hole in the side as I squeezed it! Also, I soon found out that a neutral support cycle that was following, was ready to hand bags of water to anyone racing. What a relief, as it was about 100 degrees!
Every few minute someone would drift to the left, to get rid of drafters, and jump, attacking. The group would respond, and chase them down. Then everyone would be winded, and slow down a bit. I decided that was too much work on a hot day, and let the group go each time, but in a few minutes would always catch them without having to vary my pace. Much more efficient.Periodically we would pass spectators standing along the road. Most of them had water bottles or bags, and they would spray us to cool us as we passed.
About 10 miles in we passed through a village, and encountered some typical speed bumps, going about 23 mph. The guy in front of somehow flipped. This time I had a little space, and braked, and barely got around him. At 17.5 mile out we got to the turnaround. The main group surged for the premiums, and I let them go, getting to the turn around after them. We turned in to a headwind for the return, and mostly up hill. I decided I needed that group draft again, and since we were mostly climbing, I reeled in the main group again.
Jr and this guy with a Garmin jersey (Sherman, I found out later) were really marking each other, and the pace was fast, as they tried to prevent an escape. I was glad when Jr and the Sherman finally escaped, about 15 miles from finish. I was happy, as I wanted Jr to win, and now the peleton settled a bit. The guy who had fallen, and taken me down, rode up beside me, and thanked me for pulling him back to the leaders. I told him I was happy to help.
One guy, with a huge bundle of dreadlocks in a hair-bag, was riding with us, with his phone on his stem (with a rubber band), loudly playing Reggae! I told him "nice tunes", and he smiled.
As we rode in the headwind, I found myself second in the line, and then the guy in front signaled for me to take a pull. I went to the front and pulled for several miles, into a pretty hard wind, and over several hills. I finally drifted left for the next guy to take over, but no one wanted to pull, they just all followed me left. So I just slowly started to back-off my speed. Eventually, after I dropped the pace to about 15, they went around me. However, no one wanted to pull. And this one guy at the front started to weave left and right across the road, and everyone (including me) were weaving around, and I thought sooner or later there was going to be a wreck. I felt great, so, exasperated, I raised my pace, and was soon riding tempo at the lead of the group again. We were about 10 miles from the finish, and I pulled main group for the next five miles.
As I lead the group, the support vehicles were all pulling up beside me, asking if I wanted water, and spectators in cars were shouting, "go white-boy!". I felt pretty good, and I considered attacking the group, rather then pulling them, but then decided that would be foolish. A support motorcycle came up and shouted that the two leaders were 6 minutes ahead. I thought good for them, well out of reach.
Then the unexpected. The two leaders were jockeying, as neither wanted to pull the other the last five miles directly into a coastal wind to the finish. Also, Jr did not want a sprint finish for the win, as he felt sure Sherman could out sprint him. So they slowed, and suddenly ahead I saw this traffic jam of support cars and pickups and motorcycles as we caught the two leaders. Then I saw Jr, and he was shouting to me and waving "go, go". I was confused, and a little nervous with all the chaos. The main group was around me, and they started to accelerate, so I went way to the left, around the neutral support cycle, and pushed hard, not sure what else to do. I assumed I had a group on my wheel, but didn't have time to check, and I was pushing hard at 20+ into the head wind on a slight downhill.
Then I looked up and noticed that the lead police motorcycle was cruising just ahead of me, honking to clear traffic, and I then realized I was first man on the road. I looked behind, and unbelievably, no one was in sight, and I could see at least a mile back. I was shocked. Very unexpected. I knew it was about 5 miles into the wind, heading directly for the coast, to the finish. I assumed they would catch me, as it was a group, but I thought I should at least ride my best to make it look good. So I put my head down, and kept riding a hard tempo pace. One car pulled beside me and the passenger yelled "you are pounding them man", while pounding his fist into his hand. He seemed quite excited by the drama unfolding.
I passed a larger group of spectators, and they all sprayed me with a massive blast of water, mostly to my head and face, almost knocking me over. I wasn't completely sure of their motives, but I did find the relief from the heat nice.
I didn't know what else to do, so I just keep pushing, basically riding in time trial mode, with my forearms on the handlebar tops in an aero position. It was hard, and painful on my arms, because the road was really rough, and there were nasty speed bumps as I approached the town.
At 2 miles out I looked back again, and there was still no one in sight as I entered the outskirts of town, just cars and pickups (filled with Belizeans) shouting "Go white-boy!".
As I entered the town proper, I passed the 1 mile marker, and a man was waving a flag, thus signaling my winning of the last station prize. (There are intermediate sprint points in a race, and the first to cross each wins a special prize, usually cash).
About 1/2 mile from the finish, I hit a speed bump hard, and blew my rear tire. I just kept pushing anyway, hoping my flat tire would stay on the rim. If it came off, I would have to abandon, or try to win by pushing my bike and running. The tire held as I kept my pace high, and finally I passed the guy waving the finish flag. I didn't know what to do next, so I grabbed a water bag, broke it, and poured it over my steaming hot head. Some people were staring at me, a few came to shake my hand. My two students were looking puzzled. The professor won?
Several minutes later the leaders came in, and Jr sprinted for third, Sherman taking 2nd. Jr's younger brother Derrick (at 10 years old) got best junior rider. Joslyn came up after a few minutes and handed me $350 Belize dollars, and said these were my winnings for the team. I hadn't even know we had a team. I took $100 to pay for the van fuel, and told Joslyn to distribute the rest to the "team".This really was a team win, not a personal one. After the race I learned that the reason I got away without being chased was because my teammate Jr had shut down all attempts to catch me. By closely following any chaser, as a top placed rider, he could neutralize them. This is because they were unwilling to pull him back to me, only to have him (legs fresh from drafting) jump around them at the finish, and steal the win from them. So they would rather let me win, than take a chance on letting Jr win. Cycle racing is sometimes a strange and intriguing game, and I benefited from the other riders fear of Jr. Jr's tactics proved correct in the end, because the Garmin jersey rider did indeed out sprint Jr at the line. So by helping me win, we got a team win, something we would not have otherwise. So thanks to you Jr, I NEVER would have won without your help!
(Jr, wearing a pink team jersey, and his father Joslyn, are seen in a picture above, on either side of me, after the race)
Now they are trying to talk me into riding the main 70 mile masters classic. This is a much more select group. I don't know....
Jim
Race Information Link: http://amandala.com.bz/news/dangriga-sports-stats-9/
