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Ed Taylor Road Race 2004 - by Alan Lovegrove PDF Print E-mail
Written by Richard Somerset   
Sunday, 01 April 2007

ED TAYLOR MEMORIAL RR - THURLOW, SUFFOLK (ERRL) - SUNDAY 14th MARCH 2004

Race Report by Alan Lovegrove

Road Racing in early March, my advice, seriously think about it, especially if you haven't ventured back into the bunch for the previous six years!
I have been asked to put a few words down about my recent foray back into the massed start arena and how did my result reflect my rekindled enthusiasm for road racing. 
My season should have started the week before the Ed Taylor Memorial event with the Crest CC RR around my local lanes in Ugley, unfortunately a bad head cold prevented me from riding so I was left giving vocal support to the cold and wet bunch from the grass verge.   
However this weekend (14/03/04) I was ready for the Ed Taylor event and raring to go. Again the race was being held on a 'local' circuit at Thurlow near Haverhill so the journey out was quick and easy. I had been informed the previous week by Bryan Long (yes remember him ex North Roader and star of many local time trials and road races, who, after a year long battle I eventually convinced to start riding his bike again and he obliges by returning to road racing with a 5th place in his first event for 12 years in the Crest RR!), that there was a biggish hill in the Ed Taylor event which would have to be climbed 10 times, no problem I thought, I'll big ring it up there and make the bunch suffer! 
Yeah right! By the 7th lap and into the teeth of a near gale the 39 x 21 was certainly not too low!! 
Anyway back to pre start strategy. I arrived at the headquarters in Thurlow nice and early and immediately discovered that the traditional 'rip your bike apart' bike check was no longer the number one worry for the budding Johan Museeuw to contend with and a simple 'hand your plastic licence over and receive your number' was all that was needed. Virtually a time trial I thought to myself! 
Once in the warm village hall I went about the ritual pinning your number onto your jersey with as many pins as possible to ensure that there was absolutely no chance of the wind dragging me back with my number. This achieved I listened to the local chit chat about how cold it was (or not as the case may be) and how many layers riders were to adorn during the event. I had already made my mind up, anything under 5 degrees was positively freezing and therefore full winter kit required anything between 5 and 10 degrees meant leggings and at least three layers on top and two pairs of arm warmers. 
I felt decisive, positive and ready for glory!
A 10 minute warm up in the wet and wind did not dampen my spirits and I lined up behind the lead car, took a glance to my left to assess the immediate competition and nodded knowingly at the tall guy next to me. That's Ian Cammish I thought, great we can time trial off the front 'two up stylie' and decide who wants to take the honours in a couple of hours time, all was going to plan. 
The commissaire gave us another pep talk and advised that there were 58 starters. The race would be neutralised from the headquarters to the official start at the top of the finishing hill about 1.5 kms away. Nice little warm up I thought.
The flag went down and away we went, 300 yrds down the road we took a right hander and up the hill. The 39 ring was in full flow and we positioned ourselves up the climb ready for the flag to be dropped.
Over the top of the climb the wind hit us full in the face and the race began................
By the middle of the first lap I'd taken a management decision that I was probably not going to go for the lone break away win today and would give a few of the younger guys a chance for early season glory! This decision was taken due to the fact that I had just conducted my first 'out of a corner sprint' in the last 6 years followed by a gale force cross wind 'close that gap' chase across the exposed Suffolk countryside lasting for about 3kms.
This was the hardest fought 3 kms that I can every remember! I was perched on the end of my saddle desperately hoping for some kind sole to come through on the non wind side to give me a hand closing the gap, as 10 or so fast hopefuls tried to pull away. No such luck, 50 other guys stuck on my wheel glued by the wind to the left hand gutter willing me to close the gap, which I did, but with my legs and lungs screaming for mercy and my hand searching for lower gear I thought that the day was going to be a little tougher than I had first imagined!
The roads were wet and muddy and by the time we had reached the bottom of the climb for the first time we were all looking like a toughened peloton of Paris-Roubaix specialists.
The first time proper up the finishing hill really showed who had early season form, the bunch disintegrated and a small group (containing my tip for glory, Ian Cammish), grinded their way off the front and into the teeth of the Suffolk Mistral blowing right at us.
So with one lap down and 9 to go I decided that I really needed to try and get across to that group it looked strong and was making real progress across in the exposed countryside.
A few attacks off the front from some of the keen ones were brought back (by the wind, rather than the bunch!) as the break ploughed its way ever forward.
This was my queue, I jumped, got a gap and went for it gaining 50, 100, 200 metres, I looked behind hoping to see a small group trying to get across, but no the regular, intelligent roadies in the bunch realised my stupidity and left my hanging out there for a few miles. I was caught, I sat in for a bit and went again, this time following someone else's wheel. But to no avail again the wind and enthusiasm of riders not to let you get away won over.
All of this and we still hadn't completed 10 miles!
This is how the pattern of the race seemed to continue, me having a go, missing the moves that always seemed to occur just after I'd been caught and watching them slowly drift out of sight. My early excitement and determination to return to the local road scene with a splash was slowly falling into the realisation that self preservation and survival were going to be the order of the day.
We seemed to have been climbing that hill for ever when I deemed it necessary for me to see how many torturous laps we had remaining, 2 tops I thought.
But as we hauled ourselves over the ever steeper finishing hill, gladly receiving the applause of the brave bystanders I stole a glance at the lap board. SIX TO GO!! No way, we have only ridden four laps, I felt like I had been chasing and attacking for hours, oh for the simplicity of a time trial!!
Ok I need to readdress my strategy. I knew that the bunch was being shot apart and that there were possibly 8 - 10 riders up front. Still chance of a top 10 finish, lets make it happen then I thought. I looked around and realised that one of the most intelligent riders in the bunch was probably Darren Knight, another comeback roadie and ex Junior champion who I frequently raced against in years passed, but rarely beat. He would be a good bet to follow.
My enthusiasm and adrenaline was still flowing into about lap 6 (4 to go) and this was encouraged massively by the Lovegrove family, Charlotte, Tommy, Georgie and Anna. Huge cheers and waves as I went past made me feel like maybe I was a Johan Museeuw, well within my own household anyway!
Bridging gaps and desperately trying to follow the 'right' move came to no avail as small groups of twos and threes battled their way off the front.                   
It was getting windier surely, the hill was definitely getting steeper as I was having to change down lower each time I dragged myself up there.
Approaching the hill towards the end of lap six and my man Darren Knight made his move (I knew he would) on the wind assisted run into to the sharp left hander. I followed him, glued to his wheel, I even checked to see what gear he was to ensure that I was not at any disadvantage. Darren moved over to let me through, the problem was I couldn't come past him! We were in the 53x12 doing 30 odd mph and my legs suddenly realised that I had spent the last 35 miles trying as hard as I could and they'd really had enough and wanted to 'sit in' for a bit.
I apologised to Darren for not coming through, he smiled a sympathetic smile and we swung left and up that bloody hill again!
Darren stayed 2 or 3 lengths in front up the hill as we were joined by another rider.
I should have jumped to get on his wheel as we browed the hill, I could of done it, but I didn't. The wind came between myself and the other two and that was it. They got the gap and slowly rode away. Another missed opportunity.
The bunch was now a mere 'group' of riders, probably 10 or 12 of us. This race, this circuit was tough.
With 3 laps to go the finishing hill was certainly taking its toll my quads in both legs simultaneously decided to twitch with cramp as I wrenched myself out of the saddle approaching the top of hill, too much sprinting had taken its toll.
The last 3 laps were purely survival, a couple of the stronger guys slipped off the front and some of the weaker ones disappeared off the back. There were 5 of us left.
We would help each other get round. This is where the best 'through and off' of the whole race occurred (shame we couldn't organise ourselves like this 45 miles ago, we probably would still be in with a chance!).
The Lovegrove family carried on with their fantastic vocal support for their Lion of Flanders (or was it Kitten of Suffolk!) which helped no ends and made the whole experience seem worth every minute of pain endured.
The 5 of us decided not even to pretend to sprint (as if we could!) and we rolled over the line emphatic in the knowledge that although in the last group on the road, over 50% of the race had packed and at least we had a damn good go!!
The morale of this tale is racing in wet, windy and hilly races in March is foolish but great fun and although I may have missed the moves I still know who to follow and can often pick the winner! (Ian Cammish came second and Darren made it over to the second group on the road).  
Here's to more road races, taking part is definitely what its all cracked up to be. Long live the attacker and the brave!

P.S. I will hang onto to those intelligent riders in the months to come so glory may yet appear!
 
See you up the road.
 
 Fred Lovegrove.

 
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