June 23 - June 25, Elkhorn Classic Stage Race
Race info

Official results: Oregon Trail Road Race, Individual Time Trial, Gold Rush Criterium, Dooley Mountain Road Race, Final GC,

Elkhorn Classic Stage Race report

June 23-25
By Darin Olde


Four stages, three days and approximately 200 miles of racing make up the Elkhorn classic bike race in Baker City, Ore. While it is no Gila, the kicker of this race is that the final stage - even for the Cat 4/5s - is a 101-mile road race with three small climbs and a finish line atop a fourth mogul that stands about 2,000 vertical feet from the base. Yes, a veritable Geiger grade with a steady 8% grade to finish the day and to cap three stellar days of racing.

Stage I - 75 mile Oregon Trail RR

Starting between 2 and 3pm, all categories battled mid-day heat reaching to the upper 80s. The pace was lazy, the group somewhat relaxed. But at approximately mile 45 the grade picked up to a significant climb and the 4/5 group began to spread. Over the top, a break of about 10 riders stuck together. About 100 meters from the summit, Jeff Albert, who minutes earlier had handed me a bottle of water half filled with ever-precious H20, dropped from the group. It would prove disastrous. One of the riders in the break, Chris Kinney from the Fightin' Bobas, rallied the group together to work – and work we did. The time gap nearly a mile from the finish according to the chase vehicle was approximately 5 minutes. The field sprint was downright odd as Kinney, who clearly rallied the group together to work, leaned forward and called the sprinters forward. "I'm only interested in the GC," he announced. "Sprinters to the front!" And, quite conveniently, most of the final eight riders in the break parted like the proverbial Red Sea, allowing Nils Johnson from Davis, a Davis teammate, and myself to head to the front. Johnson had a great leadout and nipped me at the line by half a wheel.

Stage II - 10 TT

Absolutely nothing exciting here, unless foamy sputum floats your boat. Hilly, miserable. Finished 6th

overall and I was happy. For results, see Obra.org.

Stage III - Downtown Criterium. 35 minutes.

With a sixth-place finish in the TT affording me a 3rd place standing in the GC, the criterium, sadly, became a trite formality. After all, there were no time bonuses for premes or stage results. And in the face of the 101-mile road race the following day no one in the GC was going to take a chance. Therefore, the GC contenders sat in the pack and settled for a leisurely cruise. Too bad really, it might have made for a more exciting race. I finished in the pack, rubber side down, ready for pizza and a chocolate malt at the local hotel restaurant.

Stage IV - 101 mile Mount Dooley RR.

Ahhh… Mt Dooley, you gas grubbing incline. Three significant climbs capped by a 2,000 foot vertical slap in the face. At least this race started in the morning. But the weather forecast called for a high of 96F. The plan would be to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate, stick with the leaders, and then floor it at the base of the final climb. The group, now down to 64 riders, actually maintained a respectable pace initially. Johnson, from Davis, who had fallen back some in the TT, was now on the offensive. He attacked early, but the group chased him down. I complimented him on his grit.

A few riders dropped from the pack during the next few climbs. As the final flats before Dooley approached the group slimmed down to 20-40 riders. We all waited in anticipation for a move. Then, finally, one by one, riders began sprinting off the front. The GC leader, Carl Kloos from Ticycles, played it cool. I asked him who had attacked and stayed away. "None from the top 10 in the GC," he said, "except a rider from Davis." Johnson had gotten away, along with Alan Lovewell from UC Santa Cruz who, at that point, wasn't in contention for top 10. I began to worry, but privately wondered if Johnson could hold it off. He had shown small signs of struggle on the final climbs of stage I, but executed a fine sprint in the final few meters. I began to wonder if I ought to attack, and even nodded to another GC contender, as if to motion that now was probably ripe time for plucking. But, fearing the burnout of 101 miles, I hesitated. The pack began to slow further in anticipation. My hesitation festered even more. Then, finally, Dooley began to rise before us.

Kinney attacked, and those with the desire went with him. After a few moments nearly the same eight riders who emerged on stage I emerged again in a solo break. I didn't turn to gage the gap on the field, but knew the distance would continue to grow. I held at the back for a moment, sucking wind, trying to avoid the burn, and attempted to recover. I tried to gather my thoughts, imagining the right moment to unleash what little attack remained in my legs. All of the leaders were still together and began rounding the first switchback. Thoughts swirled in my head – a glorious finish, upgrade points, prize money, a top 5 GC finish in a hefty SR… but when to attack? And as my eyes drifted me my bike lurched abruptly.

"Whoa!" I blurted.

"Are you alright," said the rider in front of me, looking back.

No sooner could I breath the words – that I was, in fact, alright – came the first hiss. Then another, louder and longer – the air seeping from my rear tire in a cruel twist of misfortune.

"DAMN YOU DOOLEY… Dooley…… dooley!" That's not really what I said. And it didn't really echo from the hillside. But, as you might imagine, what I said is not fit to print.

Almost a year of pampering my bike to avoid scratches and it all went for not as I sent it to the ground in frustration. There are scratches on it now, I tell ya. I waived my arms frenetically. The vehicle following the break approached. "I radioed to the wheel vehicle. He knows you're here," said the driver. She sped on. And the chase vehicle would arrive, after every damn rider in the remaining pack. Albert approached leading a group, not far behind the break.

"Ah no. No, no," he said, clearly lamenting my misfortune.
"I'm (sacked)," I said.

There was nothing anyone could do. He shook is head in disbelief. Then came the wheel vehicle. I climbed in, riffled through some tires, looked for something familiar, shuffled around – wasted time really. Eventually I found a wheel that looked like mine, but was not. I have a 10 speed set up, and this wheel had 9 cogs. When your luck is down and you're not thinking straight, might as well bury it. I sprinted, clamored and skipped gears all the way to the finish line. Peter Graf, who was waiting for me – and who no doubt had some well-planned hooting and hollering to do should I cross the line as expected – could not believe his ears.

"Wow," he recounted - a flat in the final eight miles. It was too disappointing to believe. Some 200 miles later, strategic eating and drinking only to go down like this. "That's like the plane crashing into the mountain." A tragedy, indeed. But all was not lost, and I managed to eek out a 10th place GC after losing about 7 minutes for the flat. Lovewell and Johnson held off the break to take first and second. They beat the break group by 6 seconds. Kloos held onto the GC leader position, followed by Kinney and Tyler Stetson from Portland State. Experienced cyclists tell you flats are crashes are all part of the game. Not that it's any easier to swallow. But I was glad it was all over. I pondered the misfortune over some Oregon home brew not far from the finish. Later I enjoyed the sunlight from the back of a truck bed as we hitched from the race finish the final 18 miles into town in near triple-digit heat. All in all a fine race, and a fine weekend of bike racing.

This text is a spacer to fix a browser compatibility issue with netscape and safari. This text is a spacer to fix a browser compatibility issue with netscape and safari.