Barry-Roubaix - Everything that's good about racing a bike

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After a week of summer weather in March, I must have been one of the few who was grinning from ear to ear about the twenty four hours of rain the preceded the fourth running of the Barry-Roubaix “Killer” gravel road race. As far as I was concerned, the filthier the conditions, the better!

It was less than an hour’s drive with the race day nerves jangling. After parking in the middle of a swamp and a quick gear check, the biggest headache was gambling on how much to wear. The weather was undecided and of course it had look good with the new TAR/WSI Internet kit. We headed to the road to warm up and check out conditions. A short run on the first gravel section confirmed that my tire pressures were good and I was grinning from ear to ear with anticipation before we made it back to the start.

I was in the third wave and got surprised by the 25+ mph pace during the neutralized roll out. Things were a little crazy and elbows were even flying up at the front of the pack. I backed off as there was plenty of time left to get aggressive with my riding. I settled in for a two hour effort. Things were fairly routine and a lot of fun but I was getting hot on the hills. Had I worn too much? I wasn’t taking on enough fluid either and as a result calf cramps hit at 15 miles. I stripped the arm warmers, committed to my bottles and tagged on to the end of a train where I could recover for a few miles.

I felt myself coming back and chased down one of my buddies on the course who had been disappearing down the road. I was now taking my turn pulling and gaining strength. And then it happened. I hit the new sandy section. I was riding the cross bike and it was a mountain biker’s paradise. It was brutal at that late stage in the race. I found myself alongside one of my new teammates questioning whether we were technically still racing as there was no one in sight pedalling a bike and no way past the bodies in front of us without taking crazy risks. As soon as I could remount I threw myself across the bike and put on my trail riding head. It was Custeresque in nature and there were plenty of the mud and puddles I was hoping for at the outset. Finally it was over and the course was back to the B-R we know and love.

I rose out of the saddle on the final climb and found my quads in knots. Even so, hitting the pavement with about six miles to go it was time to empty the tank. I threw down the hammer and hooked up with a couple of like minded souls who were ready and willing to work plus a couple that weren’t. To their credit they did have the good grace to thank me after we’d finished. I put my head down and (yes I’m really saying this) took a trip to my hurt box.

I can never complain when I left it all on the course. Today I did that and finished with a smile and a huge buzz from the whirlwind finish. A podium was not on the cards this time, I finished 57th of 129 in my category. My measure of success was that it was nearly a full 20 minutes before I started thinking about how I could be faster next year...

~Neil Jenney