The Dirt Field

The Race: Nature Valley Grand Prix
The Course: A 7.7-mile time trial, a 1-hour crit, a 93-mile road race, another 1-hour crit, an 83-mile road race, and a circuit race with 14 trips up Chilkoot Hill
The Field: Pro women
The Finish: A team effort to bring home the Xcel Sprinter’s Jersey

In a past life, I would have written a race report for each stage of Nature Valley. However, in that life, I also had free time and motivation and one fewer full-time job. So instead there’s going to be one report that recaps the entire race in an efficient manner that allows me to get back to more pressing matters: watching three movies on Netflix.

The time trial was an out-and-back just short of eight miles without any significant technical features. Official race rules prohibited use of time trial equipment, which was fine by me. The ride was uneventful – I felt decent, save for an overwhelming urge to stop pedaling for approximately 98% of the race. It rained the entire time, so I rode cautiously and took the turnaround conservatively, as it seemed worth sacrificing a few seconds to avoid having to peel myself off the ground. By the end, I was satisfied with my ride and ready to move on to the evening’s crit.

At our team meeting before the crit, our director asked Kimberley (our Aussie guest rider from the Fearless Femme team and expert sprinter) if she wanted to go for the Xcel Sprinter’s Jersey, a separate competition within the overall stage race. Kimberley was game, so we developed a plan for picking up the necessary points mid-race and at the finish. Then the race started and I was reminded how NRC crits are SO MUCH PAIN FUN. I spent most of the race digging hard to try to stay near the front while Kimberley picked up the points needed to get the jersey and avoided a near crash in the final corner to finish fifth.

The next day was the 93-mile Cannon Falls road race that had been cancelled last year due to weather. We started out by rolling excruciatingly slowly in a big, chatty bunch spread across the road. While it might seem like slow isn’t such a bad thing – fresher legs, right? – that’s not actually the case. It’s better to work a little harder and get the race done than it is to be out on the road for an extra hour. Plus, harder means riders get shelled, the field slims down for the final circuits, and the GC mixes up a bit more.

But that wasn’t to be for Cannon Falls that day. There were times that the pace picked up, but not enough to chuck any significant numbers off the back. The teams kept a tight leash on riders off the front, I got a flat and was startled by a cow running alongside me as I chased back onto the field (OMFG, IT’S COMING TO GET ME! Oh, wait, there’s a fence), and not much else happened out on the road. A few riders were off the front as we approached one of the mid-race sprint points, so Kim got Leah to attack and bridge her up to the break in time to get some points. It was a great bit of teamwork.

The dirt section just before entering the 2-mile finishing circuits was wicked fast and bumpy. I wasn’t far enough forward to help Kim pick up the sprint points that were up for grabs on the first time across the finish line, but I was able to slide onto a move bridging to a small break with two finish laps to go. It was a big effort after the long day in the saddle and burned my final match. Coming into the finish on the last lap, I was seconds back from the leaders (not in a “mere seconds” kind of way, more of a “one, two, three…oh, there’s Lindsay” kind of way) but was there to see Kimberley coming off the sidewalk on her bike in the final corner. That little fumble kept her off the podium but she was still in the sprinter’s jersey.

The Downtown St. Paul crit on Friday night wasn’t a great night for us. We needed to do some work to get Kimberley the mid-race sprint points, but things didn’t come together very well. I couldn’t get up to the front to help for the first sprint, so I did a one lap pseudo-leadout to help on the second one. That effort was good, but for the rest of the race I was pretty much just riding around in the field trying to move up. As a team, we didn’t connect as well as we should have and didn’t come together for the finish. Kimberley ended up tied with Jade from Optum in points for the sprinter’s jersey, but because of Jade’s better finish, she got the jersey on the podium. It was a tough day for Team Colavita.

The Menomonie road race was a huge improvement. For the entire 83 miles, we functioned as a unit, staying in constant contact and working together. I made four trips back to the caravan to get bottles for the team, which was a big first. It was amsuing to see how many bottles I could fit inside my clothing (and horrifying at one point to realize I had just loaded myself down with six full bottles right before a climb). Whitney and I worked with Kimberley to get over the QOM climbs since our primary goal was to protect the sprinter’s jersey. When we hit the finishing circuits, I was nearly dead from fatigue but was able to give a little more to help Kimberley move up in the field. From there, she worked her own magic to end up on the podium in 3^rd place. The race was such an improvement from the previous day; while it wasn’t without challenging moments, we worked together, stayed connected, and focused on our team goal. It was a success – Kimberley got back on the podium in the sprinter’s jersey and we went home happy.

The final race in Stillwater was brutal. Chilkoot Hill is hard enough with its 18% grade, but the gradual climb after affords little recovery time and then it’s a screeching descent right back to the base of the hill. I’d had a decent race there last year, staying with the front group until two laps to go, but wasn’t sure what to expect this year with having the extra 93-mile stage in my legs and after working harder in all of the previous stages.

It turned out to be ugly. The race started at the bottom of the hill and the best I could manage at staging was second row. When the whistle blew, I went hard but had to weave through the pack on the climb and by the time I got to the top, it was a long way to the front and gaps were opening fast. I panicked; things weren’t supposed to unravel so quickly. I started to gasp for air, partly from the exertion and partly from freaking out about coming apart immediately. I rode a few more laps and calmed down, picking up speed and getting my legs under me. Then I caught up to Mary and Kimberley and was told to stay with them and help Kimberley get through to the end in hopes that we could hang on to the jersey.

Through a combination of teamwork and some (in retrospect) priceless moments, the three of us circled the course together until we finally got pulled. That was fine and somewhat of a relief – Kimberley needed to be pulled to be considered an official finisher and be eligible for the jersey  – but I was disappointed by how badly I’d cracked at the start. Based on how the stage had played out and despite Jamie’s best efforts to mop up the mid-race points while working at the front of the field, we suspected the jersey was lost. Then we got a call saying Kimberley had won it by a single point and one hell of a lot of shrieking ensued. It was an awesome way to end Nature Valley.