What it's like to be the Lantern Rouge at a UCI Stage Race

 This year I had the incredible fortune to guest ride for the Landis/Trek team at my first UCI stage race, the 2022 Tour of the Gila. I first registered for this race in Spring 2021 as a cat 3, and then when it was postponed to the Fall, I was able to move into the amateur P1/2 field when I upgraded that Summer. Early this season I was upgraded to cat 1 and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to race at the highest level. With the help of the Gila race director, I was able to connect with Brian - the Landis DS. Brian was looking to fill a few more spots on his roster and I was eager to prove my worth as a rider and hopefully get some looks at the race.

I completed a seven man roster that included climbing phenoms Stephen Schaefer and Sam Gilletly, crit dawg Jim Maddock, Jordan Miller who recently placed 5th on Stage 4 of the 2021 Vuelta Ecuador, and our road captain - Joey Bacala.

(The Landis/Trek squad before Stage 1. From right to left: Brian, Joey, Stephen, Sam G, Me, Jim, Jordan)

Going into the race I knew I was riding a large fitness wave and was putting out some of the best numbers I’d ever seen, at an altitude of 6000’ or higher. My TT numbers were better than they were at sea level the previous year. In the week leading up to the race I averaged almost 6w/kg for 10’ during a set of 30/15s (391W). At sea level this is what I’d expect to see for a 2x20’ session but up in Boulder where I live now, I rarely see over 370W for anything sustained.

(A 30/15 interval I did leading up to Gila)

I drove down to Silver City, NM with my friend Rob who was racing the P1/2. We packed 4 bikes and several additional wheelsets into his VW Golf and completed the trip over two days to minimize fatigue from the drive, stopping for the night in Albuquerque. The night before Stage 1 the team convened at one of the host houses to meet each other and discuss logistics. This was my first professional level road race and as such I had never taken feed from a car or been in a race with a caravan (each team has a car driven by their respective director and riders can fall back to the car to get food and water when they need it). I was nervous about the prospect of getting bottles from the car at 30+ miles an hour.

The next morning we rode down to the start and signed in for the race. It was crazy to be at a race and see a big EF bus as well as all the vans for the various Continental teams we would be racing. The first stage of the Gila is a 90 mile road race with a small feed zone loop in the middle. At the end of the stage is a 6.5 mile, 1700’ climb going up to ~6500’. On paper the day seemed simple, stay safe for 84 miles and do a 20’ power test up the climb. Typically I’m good after burning many kilojoules so I figured I would have a shot at a solid result because I had been climbing well and was weighing in around 66kg, about 4kg lighter than when I was a rower.

Stage 1 was anything but simple, for me at least. It started off with a neutral roll out from town and within 2 minutes I had a rider from Yoleo Test Team shoving me into the curb on the side of the road. Fortunately I was able to stay up. I had heard that the professional teams tend to push the domestic teams around as a way to say “we’re calling the shots for the day” but didn’t expect it to happen before the lead car even waved the flag to declare the race was on. For the next 50 miles we cruised with Yoleo, Toronto Hustle, and Project Echelon controlling the field. There were very strong crosswinds and I constantly found myself on the wrong side of the peloton doing 300W and seeing everyone on the other side soft pedaling. I had a lot to learn about positioning. If I let an inch open between myself and the rider in front of me, someone would shove themselves between us before I could blink.

One of the things more experienced riders tell you is to never ride on the shoulder of the road, especially at this race. Well I didn’t pay attention to that and around mile 60, my front wheel exploded, sealant spraying everywhere. The tire wasn’t sealing and Project Echelon was guttering the field in a cross wind so I stopped on the side of the road and raised my hand. Shimano neutral support was there within 15 seconds and had my wheel swapped out in another 15. With the field getting blown apart, I thought my day was done but Brian pulled up with the team car and I drafted it, my wheel an inch from the bumper at almost 40mph. Once we made it back to the caravan I had to “jump” from car to car and hide in their draft until I could sprint to the next one. The effort to get back to the peloton took me 9’ with an average HR of 191bpm and a max of 210… Once I made it back, the teams started to line their riders up for the positioning fight leading up to the final climb. I was really hurting from my bridge effort and the heat was really getting to me. I was popped from the group as soon as we made the right turn onto the climb so I tried to settle into sweet spot wattage but my power was slipping immediately and I was nauseous from the heat. What should have been a 20’ climb became 40’ and I averaged a paltry 221W with an average HR over 180bpm. Most of the climb I was just trying not to pass out. I finished the day 64th out of 81 starters, a far cry from the top 20 I thought I was capable of. My teammates Sam G and Stephen finished 9th and 20th on the day so going forward we knew all our effort would go into supporting them for the best GC finish possible.

(Me, a shell of a human being, finishing Stage 1)

(HR distribution from Stage 1)

Crossing the finish line I was physically destroyed and mentally distraught, but unbeknownst to me, my day was far from over. This stage was point to point, so after the finish, you descend the climb to a parking lot where the team cars are waiting. The bikes were loaded on top of the car and we drove the 90 miles back to Silver City. Somewhere along the drive we see a bike fly off the top of the car and hit a speed limit sign on the highway. I tried to keep our driver calm but I had a pit in my stomach. I knew the bike was mine. The entire rack and my bike had blown off the car and was totaled. Groupset destroyed, multiple cracks in the frame, wheels tacoed. I later reached out to multiple carbon repair shops but they refused to even touch the thing due to the nature of the impact. RIP SuperSix Evo Hi-Mod 2020-2022. I’m still dealing with the financial repercussions of this and my renters insurance, with whom I filed a claim, even investigated me for fraud… Needless to say, the rest of my bikes are now insured. In rowing, clubs have equipment insurance, especially for travel, but I guess that’s not really a thing in cycling.

I was upset about my bike and what happened in stage 1 but there were 4 more stages to complete and we had two guys in the top 20. There would be time to mope later. I needed to refuel and figure out a bike to ride for Stage 2. Thankfully Landis had a spare bike which we quickly set up with my reach and saddle height numbers. Not as light as my now deceased 15lbs Cannondale but at least it had disc brakes.

(The Trek Emonda Landis let me use, thank you!)

Stage 2 was a “flat” 95 mile road race with about 6000’ of climbing. In an effort to make up for the previous day’s disaster I tried to get in the early break. We were caught before we hit the first climb. I fought to stay with the front but quickly saw myself getting distanced. As the caravan passed me, I couldn’t believe I was the first person to get dropped. One of the Team California staff yelled out the window “keep going, there are 40 guys behind you!). I was solo for a few hours but eventually caught by a group of about 20 and we rotated nicely until the last climb of the day. Several riders thought we might not make the time cut so we went pretty hard up the climb and continued toward the finish. The heat was affecting me pretty badly again and I limped through the finish line in 62nd… Our GC man Sam G finished 13th losing no time against his competitors!

Day 3 is the time trial and something I prepared for extensively in the lead up. For several weeks I would complete a three day block with two 4-5 hour days full of intervals and then a TT day with two simulation efforts of the Gila course. I expected to do between 330-340W on the day based on these training blocks and felt this stage was my best shot at a coveted top 20 result. As I’m sure you can imagine, I wasn’t even close to this. An all out effort net me 300W for 38’. Especially depressing because my last session before leaving for this race was a trivial 30’ tempo on the TT bike at the same wattage.

(I don’t have a TT picture but here’s one of me testing my position before the race)

I finished this stage 37th, my best result of the race so far, but knowing what I was able to produce prior to this week, I had a bit of a mental breakdown later that day. How could my performance be so far from my preparation? I had to reign it in quickly though because I still had a job to do. Sam G finished 5th in the TT which boosted his GC placing considerably and it would take a team effort to get him through the crit flawlessly without time loss as well as support him in stage 5.

The men’s pro crit was an evening race so we had the entire next day to sleep in and go down to the course and watch the other races. The crit course is in downtown Silver City and is a simple four corner ordeal with a punchy climb and a stair-step descent that goes into a fast corner lined with tires to stop out of control riders from hitting the crowd. I was nervous for the crit all week because the last one I did I DNF’d and while I’m a perfectly fine pack-handler, I’m not always super comfortable. It was a 90’ race which is quite long for a crit and I knew if I was constantly checking the time/laps on my head unit I would make a mistake. I decided to race without any data and try to completely surrender myself to the race. By the time we were staging for the start, I actually felt excited at the prospect of doing something that wasn’t getting dropped the moment the road turned uphill. The first 3 laps were incredibly fast and I found myself one of the last few wheels, barely hanging on to the strung out field. Once Project Echelon took the front, things became more controlled and I started to figure out how to ride the course with minimal effort. I followed Will Cooper and Sean Gardner of CS Velo’s wheels for the remaining 80’ and finished the race without incident other than a Project Echelon guy’s chain snapping in front of me on the last lap. Sam G finished again with no time loss and the rest of our guys got through safely. Joey got in the break to collect a prime or two as well.

(Always take the inside line into the corner with the tires)

(Joey showing everyone how it’s done from the break)

Based on my performance on stages 1 and 2 as well as the weather forecast, I knew stage 5 would be difficult. Going into the race I had this stage marked as one I thought I could do well on, but at this point in the week I did not feel like myself anymore. It seemed like all my training had evaporated and I was left living in the body of someone with a 280W FTP and is allergic to the sun. The course was 105 miles with about 10,000’ of climbing and that morning I once again felt the pull to get in the early break to massage my bruised ego. We were all in on getting Sam G to the line with the top guys however and after a screaming fast descent at the start, hitting well over 60mph, Joey and I went back to the car to shove as many bottles as possible into our skin suits to keep Sam and Stephen hydrated. Stephen would be key to helping Sam with positioning late in the race and guide him through the many technical descents. The peloton rolled easy for an hour or so until we made it through the first feed zone and approached the first category 2 climb, a 1600’ ascent reaching an altitude of 7500’. As we lined up with the other teams to shepard Sam to the front of the pack, we hit some rough road and Joey, who was an inch in front of me, hit a huge pothole. His stem snapped in half and he went flying over the handlebars. I managed to swerve out of the way into a ditch and somehow we avoided taking out the entire peloton. Once I collected myself, I saw Joey wasn’t moving and I panicked. I waited with him on the side of the road until the team car pulled up and after a few seconds, he stirred and told me he thought he was okay and I should go. Similar to day 1, I put in a massive effort to get back to the peloton right before they hit the climb. We were flying, well over 20mph up the base of this thing and the only sound you could hear was the heavy breathing as the air got thinner and thinner. I found myself next to Jordan as the peloton began to shrink and we looked at each other before drilling it as hard as we could to get to the front of the pack. I think we took solace in the fact that we were both still there. About 500m before the top of the climb, we were both popped from the group, but we flew down the descent weaving through the caravan of team cars and caught back on at the bottom. Typically I’m a cautious descender but the route was technical enough that the peloton would bottleneck in the switchback corners while solo riders struggling behind could rail them at full speed. Once in the valley I got more bottles for everyone and tried to distribute them before we went up the backside of the climb we just descended. Just as I was catching my breath in the pack, my chain dropped and I had to stop to fix it. There was a chain catcher on the bike I was riding and the chain was stuck underneath. It took me a full minute to get it unstuck and the peloton was long gone. I knew it was going to be a brutal solo effort to the finish. I TT’d to the climb and started to ride tempo, knowing there was a feed zone at the top. I found some dropped riders from Yoleo Test Team and we powered on, motivated to refill our now empty bottles. When we got to the feed zone, everyone was gone except for some Team California volunteers who wouldn’t give us any water since they had riders who had yet to appear. By this point it was over 100 degrees and I was really struggling. The descent was a short reprieve but there was still 2500’ of climbing to go. Eventually we found some people sitting by the side of the road and they graciously gave us a little water. We continued on our death march and I soon found myself alone once again.

At this point I was fading in and out of consciousness and struggling to stay up on my bike. I didn’t have a power meter but there was no way I was pedaling more than 150W. With no one around me, it took all my will-power to not pass out, knowing it would be disastrous if I keeled over on the side of the road. About 5 miles from the finish line a car pulled up behind me, it was the broom wagon (the van that picks up all the riders who abandon the race). With people behind me, I didn’t care anymore and closed my eyes, continuing to pedal pathetically up the climb to the finish. I doubted that I made the time cut but was determined not to DNF. After what seemed like hours, I crossed the finish line with 20’ to spare. 49th out of 49 finishers. Completely destroyed I collapsed in a lawn chair the team had set up and almost fell asleep. The rest of the guys rode back to the host houses and I rode in the team car, unable to even think. While we drove back I could half make out Brian and Joey relaying the rest of the day (Joey was okay from his crash save his stem stabbing him in the chest as well as road rash). Sam G had finished 7th on the day securing a mind-blowing 4th place in the final GC. Did I mention this dude was a cat 5 in February!? Stephen secured another top 20 and finished 17th on GC. Jordan Miller finished 38th having been probably the most consistent rider out of all of us. Jim didn’t start stage 5 due to injuries from a crash the previous week at Athens Twilight Crit. Despite that, he soldiered through the first 4 days of probably the hardest bike race in the US. What a beast.

(The Landis squad after the final stage)

Before the race, I told Colleen that my number 1 goal was to finish. Even so, it never occurred to me that not finishing was a real possibility. I think I vocalized this goal because I didn’t want to fixate on GC placement or stage performances, in order to minimize stress. Finishing seemed almost like a guarantee, but here I was on my hands and knees having to pull out every trick in the book just to make time cut. You try to bullshit yourself by saying it’s just bike racing, there are more important things in life and it’s just one race. In reality I was devastated and embarrassed. Landis gave me an amazing opportunity and I was unable to deliver even a modicum of what I thought I was capable of. I felt like a fraud amongst the most badass of bike racers. Rob and I drove back to Colorado straight shot and I had a nice 11 hour car ride to ruminate on the past week. There really wasn’t much else to say or think about other than that I needed to double down on my weaknesses so I got to work researching heat acclimatization techniques. I would need it because my next race was the Unbound Gravel 200 in 4 weeks. The next day I hopped on the trainer with 10 layers of clothing and a rain jacket to sweat my ass off before enduring a 110 degree bath. I’d say look out for a race report on Unbound but I got covid the week before and had to miss the race. The past few months have taught me a lot about humility and the danger of expectation. Nothing really else to say other than I can’t wait to return to the Gila, hopefully this time more prepared.

(The first of many heat acclimatization sessions in my bathroom)