The Legend - Race # 11

So what does an old, abandoned airfield have to do with cycling?  Well, this is the home of the best weekly races in the NYC area hands down.  What about Prospect Park you might ask, the infamous races where former local boy George Hincapie cut his teeth as an amateur?  I can't say much more than it is another park race much like the Central Park races.  True, the racing is often very fierce there but it is still a park race and sitting in can be accomplished relatively easy...assuming you don't get taken out.  You see, the thing about Floyd Bennett Field is that there is simply nowhere to hide.  It is flat, wide, open, dirty/dusty, and right on the water.  Sitting in here is severely complicated by the non-stop winds that blow in off the lower bay, not to mention the strongmen who absolutely kill these races.  And a funny thing about Floyd, you ALWAYS have a headwind of some variety for three out of the four straightaways.  Don't ask me how, I didn't believe it until I actually rode my first Floyd Bennett Field race this past Tuesday night.  Honestly, I'm still scratching my head over it a bit.  And then there's the pavement.  Old runways and taxiways that have deteriorated over the years leaving a worn, rough, concrete surface that has seen better days.  Luckily old man winter has been relatively gentile on all the concrete joints and there are only a few small treacherous areas.  So here's the course layout:

Simply put, Floyd Bennett Field is a hard man's race.  Naturally one might then ask why a spindly little climber like me would want to race Floyd.  Well, after hearing about the epic tales that this place spins out on a near weekly basis from the hardest men on our team, it is only fitting that this race should pique my interest.  Not to mention, I miss a good headwind.  Besides, I learned a long time ago that the best way to get faster is to ride with stronger, faster cyclists. 

I arrived early with a teammate, traffic was fairly reasonable for NYC.  I could have ridden out but that meant dealing with Flatbush Avenue which has been routinely described as a war zone during rush hour.  After the year I've had, I'll drive thanks.  As soon as I got out of the Jeep, I noticed the wind was howling right down the front straight away.  Howling as in a steady 20mph!  Strangely I was very relaxed before the race, a first for this year.  For some reason, this place drew me in as soon as I arrived.  We registered, got ready, and headed out for some warm up laps.  I was guided around the course by another teammate who is a Floyd veteran and strongman, Mike.  He gave me many pointers on positioning, wind, who to watch out for and what combinations of riders to not let get off the front, and how the race was likely to go down.  Soon the rest of our team arrived and it was race time.  After starting in the front, I drifted to the back during the first lap.  I wanted to see what this place was like at race pace before I got too involved.  The first several laps were fast and tough, much like a crit except here you don't dare let even a small gap open.  I made that mistake early on and before I knew it I was about five bike lengths off the back going backwards into a stout crosswind.  I ended up busting out nearly 500 watts to close that gap up!  I was careful to not let that happen again.  As the race wore on, I became more comfortable and settled into the pace and effort nicely.  Around the sixth lap I began to move toward the front without even trying.  Strange thing is that this seems to happen to me regularly in these short circuit races.  Over the next several laps, I worked on or near the front and closed down a couple break attempts in which we were not represented.  As the efforts took their toll, I began to drift back to get some rest for the finish.  Unfortunately I heard a move in the making from one of the strong guys and a co-conspirator.  As they accelerated I quickly assessed my teammates positions and realized they were poorly placed to cover the move.  I accelerated and grabbed the second guys wheel as we shot past the front of the peloton.  I was already 3/4's blown but I knew I had to give it a go.  As we settled into the effort, the first (strong) guy pulled off much earlier than I expected.  The second guy hardly even pulled before moving to the left and flicking me through.  I went to pull through however the second guy kept his pace trying to force me to accelerate to pull through.  Already riding at 33mph into a crosswind, I wasn't playing his game.  I wasn't born yesterday, I know that tactic.  Very soon the fourth guy who grabbed my wheel on the initial move begins yelling at me to pull.  Apparently he though I was trying to hold them up or something because the next words out of his mouth were "get out of the way."  Funny, there was a whole third of the width of a freaking airplane runway to my right protected from the crosswind in which he could have pulled through!  Besides, I couldn't move to the left because wheel #2 (now known as "short round" haha) was still trying to figure out how to rotate to the back of a paceline.  All this in a 1/2/3 race.  I'm not sure where some of these guys learned to race a bike or picked up their tactics but I am continually shocked at how stupid some people ride at this level.  Speaking of bad tactics, maybe the Schleck brothers were giving free clinics in the NYC area earlier this year?  Anyway, now I was pretty much blown as I tried to somehow extract myself from between these two clowns.  Once clear and attempting to latch on to the back, a quick glance back confirmed the peloton was in no mood for a break as everything was strung out.  With not much left in the tank, I sat up and tried to recover as the peloton caught me.  I grabbed onto the back again but was blown off a short while later when there was a hard acceleration...no doubt to answer another attack.  With three laps to go I was shelled and on my own.  I rode out the last three laps trying to hold as much power as I could to at least get a few more good miles in.  I can't lie, I was happy to cross the finish line.

Race photos by Victor Chan

After the race, we packed up and headed back into the city for dinner and drinks at Veselka, one of our sponsors.  Overall, I was very happy with my race.  It felt so good to be in the thick of a race again, it has been a while.  In fact, I forgot how much fun it is smack in the middle of the tactics, attacks, bridges, and counter attacks.  With a little better management of my efforts, I would have finished with what was left of the pack.  Not only that but it was clear that Floyd Bennett Field was a special place.  It is definitely a unique, challenging race...not something easily put into words.  And for once...instead of fighting for survival hanging on at the back, I was fighting at the front and rediscovered my love of racing all over again.  Who knew I was going to find that missing piece at an old abandoned airfield?  I think I just found another favorite race.