Super Squadra

The three days between the State Championship crit on Monday and day 1 of Tulsa Tough flew by. Dave, Phil, and Steven were sitting Tulsa out in preparation for the weeks to come, and Alan was meeting me and Ian up there. After enduring midday Dallas traffic on the Austin-Dallas leg to pick me up, Ian handed over the keys so I could drive us to Tulsa. The problem? I couldn’t drive a stick.

“Jump behind the wheel, let’s do this,” he encouraged me. After a jerky and tense lap around the neighborhood, we were Tulsa-bound! We arrived at our host house and met the gracious couple that would be putting up with us for the next few days. After a quick PBJx2 dinner, we got ready to race and found a spot close to the course to park. Alan was already getting after it in the 1/2 race, but got caught behind a big crash and was unable to chase all the way back to the pack. After a brief warmup, Ian and I found ourselves at the start line. This was my first night-time race, and my first NRC race. The crowds just put the environment over the top; it was rowdy and loud and I couldn’t wait to get going.

Shortly after the race kicked off, I found myself at the front and then off the front getting in a few moves. There were huge screens around the course and the ever-present man-with-the-mic Dave Towle was screaming at fans, and I wanted them to hear my mis-pronounced name! During the middle third of the race, I was off the front a handful of times, once or twice solo. Rounding a corner to see an image of my own face on the screen ahead was a new experience for sure…. Ian made his way up to the front and got in the mix as well. Aside from nearly being scared out of my form- fitting lycra from fireworks at the adjacent baseball field, the race was uneventful; dodged a few crashes and stayed out of trouble. With just 20 laps left on the short and technical course, I was too far back to really mix it up in the sprint and just hung back to finish the race.

In my excitement to drive back to the house, I was uncharacteristically absentminded and left my helmet, sunglasses, and heart rate monitor on the roof of the car; they were nowhere to be found when I returned 30 minutes later. After a late-night dinner, we met our fellow houseguest, an opera singer.

We awoke saturday morning in no particular hurry, and after a hearty breakfast pedaled out to Tulsa’s river hike-and-bike path for an hour-long spin. Robert, our host, had graciously lent me a mid-90’s Specialized helmet (got to represent the sponsor!) to protect my noggin. Lunch was accompanied by the sound of vintage vinyl records, then a nap, and finally it was time to race again.

Alan finished his race amidst the sprinters, then made his way to our start line for a quick helmet swap with me. Once again I made several efforts to get away from the pack but our groups never survived much longer than a lap. Ian was following the moves when I wasn’t, and the laps ticked by. When it became clear another pack sprint was in order, Ian and I began the struggle for position. On the last lap, I knew the outside of a particular turn was the wrong place to be even at just 15 riders back, and sure enough the riders crushed together at the turn’s exit against the curb and a pile-up ensued. I almost saved it with a last-ditch skid but still ended up atop the pile with a few scrapes. Thankfully Ian was on the inside of that turn and escaped free for an almost top-11 finish.

After we collected ourselves, the Sound Pony bar on the backside of the course (where spectators had been rowdy all night) was beckoning us. The cyclist-owned bar was quite the place to be with plenty of fans, racers, post-race refreshments, and a photographer present.





The late-night dinner was highlighted by our host’s special homebrew. After a restful sleep, Sunday morning was a replay of the day before: hearty breakfast, river trail spin that spilled over through an industrial park that piqued the nostrils, lunch, nap, race. The final race of the ‘Tough is unique in that it features a mean hill on the backside of the course, complete with a rambunctious party spilling over onto the course.



After biding my time until the half-way point, I followed a few moves. We looked golden when a group of 8 got away with 15 laps to go. We got about 15 seconds on the pack at one point but were not working well enough together to stay away. It was the move that went right after we were caught that stayed away–another race of would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. Ian claimed the last spot that payed out. As we thanked our hosts, we learned that the record that had us so enamored for the weekend (with a personal note from Boy George) had been a prank forgery. Oh well…. After a quick shower we were back on the road, ready for the next weekend of racing (after a quick stop at Braum’s, that is).



Race photos by our host, Robert Billings. Thanks for everything!

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 10th, 2010 at 2:21 pm and is filed under Race Reports. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.