I had known about the WBL for several years. It’s a series of winter training rides in Athens Georgia starting in December, and running through February. All the rides are ridden at a very controlled and steady pace. But, as the season draws near, they begin to take on aspects of racing. Starting in about mid January, the rides have what’s called attack zones...8-12mile sections where it’s full on racing, with a sprint at the end, and a pot of gold to the winner (yes, real money...like anywhere from $50 to $250 bucks). The rides typically are 3-4hrs, but a few of the rides are noted as “World Cups”...these are 5-6hr affairs, with multiple attack zones and challenging routes. The Porterfield Tire Alto World Cup was one of these Worlds Cup. It heads up into the northern Georgia hills, and has always been on my mind.

If you read the “rules” of the WBL, you see #4 squarely says “no whining”...having had my fill of whining this winter, this sounded good to me. Couple that with the fact Athens is just outside of Atlanta (lot’s of great riders), is home to UGA (lot’s of young kids), and is also the winter training grounds and home of several pro’s....what better place to go stretch the legs and have some fun.

And, fun it was:

Weekend #1:

Saturday:...Alto...NOT:

January 26 was to be the weekend of the Alto World Cup, after getting pushed back one time due to weather. Myself, and soon to be zealot, Jason Guzak, packed up and headed down. Alto is a 110mile affair, with three attack zones, one of which climbs a 4mile stair step, before speeding 4miles to the Alto city sprint...this is followed by another attack zone, ending after “crackback hill”, and finally another 12 mile attack zone to the end. It would be a long day....even longer for yours truly...

My son had managed to share his 24hr intestinal bug with me, which promptly hit at 10pm Friday night in the hotel....I gave all I had to the porcelain goddess, all night long, before waking up to 31degrees and rain...the weather man hadn’t quite got it right, and a front had slipped much further south than expected. I managed to eat one piece of dry toast, then contemplated what the hell I was going to do...cold, rainy, and I felt....bad...very weak. After much agonizing, I decided to give it a shot....I could always turn around. Pepto is your friend.

The rain was just beginning to stop as we hit the bikes for the short ride to the start. When we got there, it was announced the Alto ride would be postponed due to weather, but we would do another 4hr loop, with an attack zone at the end. Ok, good omen #1....4hrs on one piece of toast is better than 6. As we headed north of town, the roads became drier, and the rain had stopped...temps slowly crawled to the mid 40's. I was feeling so weak, and just told myself to sit in. And, the pace was actually very steady and mellow....20mph avg...quite slow by my normal Saturday ride standards...but, I was very happy, as I felt horrible. Somewhere about 20miles out, I managed to eat a gu and a cliff bar...they managed to stay down, and my energy levels and spirits started to slowly rise.

Alto is one of the bigger WBL rides, and about 70 zealots decided to show up. Among these zealots where at least 10-15pros....Jon Murphy had won all the attack zone sprints to date in the WBL series, and he was there to defend (and get the cash)..but, the challengers included riders from Jittery Joes, Jelly Belly, Time Factory team, AEG Jet Networks, and several of the local Atlanta teams....there was even a Van full of Canadian pro’s that had driven down in their quest for warmer climates.

The WBL is extremely well supported and organized. The route and store stops are predetermined (Hint to the Nashville Crowd!)....no, they don’t wait for folks at the top of every hill...but, aside from the attack zones, the pace is very steady. Pee breaks are announced...and the ride leader has a whistle to signal the attack zones. There is a follow vehicle the entire time that can be used in case of flats, to drop off excess clothes, and for drafting to get back up to the pack if you have to pee between breaks.

After making it to the store stop in good shape, I started feeling a little better. It was clearly announced where the attack zone would start, and the finish...two final 4 mile loops...which started with a small, but sharp hill. This 8 mile attack zone would come at the end of the ride. As predicted, the final selection of 12 or so zealots would be made the first time up the hill, with the two newest Nashville Zealots making the cut...it was now game on...and game on it was....attack, counterattack....everyone throwing everything they had at Mr. Murphy...but, he stayed cool...after the final time up the short hill, things where getting tense...the final mile or so to the finish (which I still wasn’t exactly sure where it was), was a false flat into the wind....Jittery Joes and Jelly Belly threw all the had at Jon, and basically made him close down the gap...but close it down he did, and then with a thunderous sprint...that was that...I managed to look up in time to see him crossing the line...but, I made it...on one piece of toast, a gu, and a cliff bar...damn

Sunday...The Dirt Road Race

While chatting Saturady in the peloton, I ran into an old friend from Raleigh...he was now one of the directors with the Time Team, and mentioned the following days “Dirt Road Race”....I had seen this listed on the WBL site, and wasn’t quite sure what to the think...the plan had always been to stay and ride in Athens. One of the guys on the Time Team was helping putting this “Dirt Road Race” on.

The Dirt Road Race, as explained to me, would be a 60mile race, which basically went from road to jeep trail, and back and forth again, about 10-12times...there would even be a stream crossing...oh my gracious...my thoughts drew upon images of years past, and mountain bike racing....my fellow zealot was fired up about it, so we decided to give it a shot...I was assured, the dirt roads where not gravel roads, but hard packed.

I had managed to actually feel hungry Saturday night, and this was a good sign. My spirits where lifted, and I was ready to go for Sunday. I brought a beater set of wheels to Athens, in case of accident, and I promptly put those on the bike for Sunday’s affair...Open pro’s on DA hubs, three cross straight gauge spokes with Pro2's pumped to 85lbs....I thought that would be a good choice...after showing up to the start, I saw others where even more prepared, with cyclocross bikes with 25's on. Oh well....we road about 10miles, before the official start...now, they advised us the turns onto the dirt where marked....so much for that....I had absolutely no idea what turn to make, how long the dirt was, or even once in the trails, which turns to make there. But, after having a horrible day on the bike, the day before, I was full of piss and vinegar....once the whistle sounded, I attacked with two others, and we where off...we where still on the road, and everyone was fresh, so it got pulled back...but, someone counterattacked, and I went with them too....not too far from the first dirt road piece, our break was pulled back again...off course, very few people of the 40 or so people on the ride, knew where the turns where....we hit the dirt...and whow....no gravel, but major stutter bumps & major pot holes in the hard red Georgia clay....I was going fast, and heard this “crack”....I had images of George Hincapie at PR....I tried to glance down at my fork...I was sure it must of cracked. But, I just kept riding...I couldn’t believe how fast we where going on the dirt...and, I guess those in the back couldn’t either, as we began to shed riders. About 200yards into the dirt we came to a sharp rise (think mountain biking)....Jason laid down a beautiful attack, & as we crested the hill, it was still a rise up to the next road section....Jason managed to hit the road with a 10 second gap, that was slowly stretching out to15-20 seconds, as the chase was slightly disorganized. As the road started to head down, a few went to the front, and started driving hard to bring him back. I could see the catch would be made about the time the downhill turned into an uphill....as soon as the catch was made, and the road turned up, I attacked...I brought Jason, who was still near the front, and WBL founder & leader, David Crowe with me....at the top of the hill, we turned right, back onto dirt...we stayed on the gas, and at this point, started opening up a gap....we maintained the gap, hit the next section of road, & where still clear....as we entered the next section of dirt (thank goodness David had some idea where the turns were), we where joined by others...I could see them coming, but had to be so focused on dodging the pot holes, I really couldn’t tell how many it was...I was fully prepared for it to be what was left of the bunch, but it was only three....so, there was the race...6 of us, and still about 40miles, and at least 8-10 sections of dirt left...damn.

We had been joined by one of the local pro’s who races cross (who was one of the two guys putting on the race) along with one of the Time Pro’s, and a local racer from the Myogenesis team.

David Crowe had an untimely flat, and was left a hand pump, a smile, and a goodbye. Next to come off was the cyclocross guy...he put in several hard attacks, as this was his training ground, and he knew the “roads”, but I think it was one too many. I believe it was one of Jason’s attacks that finally dislodged him. As we continued with the pace, taking turns at the front, we came quickly to a steep downhill...and, at the bottom, there it was, the creek crossing...it wasn’t a wide creek...only maybe a bike length...but, you couldn’t really see the bottom...I wasn’t sure how deep, or what was at the bottom (smooth, or rocks)...normally, on a mtb, it’s “who cares, ride it fast”...but, we’re on road bikes, with road tires....Jason and I, now part of just the four man break, slowed down more than the other two....after making it across OK, we quickly found ourselves faced with a serious uphill...very steep, and twisty, and we had run into some loose rock...not exactly what you want to get up, once you’ve dumped all your speed...the other two guys, saw the gap, and poured on the gas....Jason and I dug deep, and clawed back on. It quickly become obvious the Time & Myogenesis guys where probably the strongest left....they attacked each other over and over....I started suffering from affects of dehydration from the previous day, coupled with the fact it was warm. I figured we had to be near the end, and attacked hard on one of the climbs...that would be my undoing....with a loud BANG, I exploded....Jason managed to keep the two within fitting distance, as the Myogenesis guy outsprinted the Time guy, with Jason rolling in just behind...& myself, further behind.

As we set there at the finish talking about the ride (the peloton was nowhere to be seen), the subject of paying the winner came up. This had been a race where you throw your $5 in the hat, and winner take all...probably was $150 in the hat. The cyclocross guy, who had just rolled in, was the keeper of the “hat”. He quickly said “payout is at the bar, when we get back to Athens”....the Myogenesis guy calmly looked up at him, and said “what if I’m not old enough to get into a bar”....damn...and I just turned 39. The irony was terrible...this guy is 20, and just killing it on a bike....I bought my first mtb when I was 22 to get to class...and just fooled around for several years before even getting halfway serious.

As I chatted with him on our ride back into town, it became apparent how different our worlds, outside of cycling, are. He’s a student at Emory...he said “I’ve got to go back and do homework”....I said, “I’ve got to go back and change diapers”. I guess, it’s just funny, because as I thought about his world, I felt as if I really wasn’t that far removed from it...it seemed like just yesterday that’s where I was at...and, I think that’s one of the important lessons....you can get older without having to grow old...my life was so different because I was so much older...but, my spirit hadn’t grown old...I was still right there, fighting it out, while having a huge smile on my face, the entire day.

The Dirt Road Race is something I’ll always remember. I loved racing a mountain bike, and this brought back great memories. The “road to dirt to road” was just so different, it made it exciting...at some points in the race, we jumped out to the road, only to ride for 20yards, before we jumped back on the dirt...I had no clue where we where going, or what uphill, or downhill, lie ahead....for those who’ve ridden lot’s of mountain bikes, it’s similar to riding a trail for the first time....you just don’t know what’s around the corner...and that heightens your senses even more.

The ride was so fun, my fellow zealot and I are seriously contemplating an even larger epic called Rouge Roubaix... http://www.rougeroubaix.com/

As I got back to the hotel, I inspected my bike, which I was certain was going to include a cracked fork...but, alas, I was lucky...what had happened was that my bar had rotated down with one of the sharp pot hole hits...the crack was the bar sharply moving in the stem. As far as the rest of the equipment, I probably couldn’t have picked a better bike than my Ti Seven, to attempt this adventure on.

I would encourage those who enjoy Shakespeare, to read some the WBL site. David Crowe, local lawyer, and ex-bike racer, does all the writing.

We decided to stay in Athens Monday, and enjoy the 62 degree weather forecast. A nice 4hr ride in the country, which included going to some of the places they filmed The Bridges of Madison County (or so Jason tells me). It was a great day of riding, at a much easier pace.

Stayed tuned for WBL Round #2...Alto...for real.