Nationals_chaperone view

By -Debi Toews

I’m in withdrawal.  At my age, the best substitute for a time machine is a race weekend with Whitman Cycling. Even better, is the five-day trip for Nationals!

For those of you who may not know me, I’m a Whittie (class of ’76), and I live in Walla Walla. I’m a long-time, avid cyclist and advocate for cycling as a part of the transportation system.  My husband, Jim is also an alumni of Whitman. This is the third season that I’ve been fortunate to travel with the team, although I’ve been blessed by knowing Whitman cyclists for a number of years.

Our jaunt to nationals added on to last year’s Nationals airport tour of North America; this year I added Atlanta and Asheville airports to my “life-list.”

Ten of us flew from the Tri Cities airport on Wednesday, May 6^th.  We met at North Hall at 3:30 a.m.; talk about oh-dark-thirty!  Our journey ended in Asheville at 10:00 p.m., EST. After picking up our rental truck and mini-van, we packed 6 bike boxes and all of our luggage in the vehicles and drove about 30 miles to our wonderful home-stay.  One of my dear friends has a sister who lives in the Asheville area, who's name is “Stas” and who has a beautiful Blue Ridge mountain home.  She and her teenage son graciously turned their home over to 10 of us.  Stas also had the home-stay dog of the year: Chocolate Ben, a lively, 14-year-old terrier mix.

Dave Tupper, physical therapist extraordinaire in Walla Walla, is invaluable with his experience of so many trips to nationals. Even better, he has an amazing skill massaging sore and fatigued racer’s muscles.  Silas Morgan, first year student, took time out of his pre-finals time to come along on the trip to Nationals just to help out his team. Teammates are what Whitman cycling is all about.

Dave and I went shopping the first day while the kids set about putting their bikes together.  We then packed the bikes into the back of the pickup, along with a packing blanket and bungees, country style, and went to pre-ride the Team Time Trial (TTT) course along the beautiful French Broad River. Dave and I followed in our fancy truck, not the usual “pro” follow car.  The TTT course was also part of the road course. Some of the riders went to pre-ride sections, while the most experienced of us pre-drove it. Myself, I was a back seat driver on this twisting section so that Alberto and Mackenzie could get a good view of the corners.

Finals always looms just after nationals in early May. I am amazed at seeing how my kids can study anywhere, in any position; sleep can also occur anywhere in any position.

They scrambled the order of the races, so the Road Race, which is usually the finale of the weekend, was first.  So, still quite jet-lagged from the three-hour time difference, our women went off at 8:15 a.m., which was like riding at 5:15 a.m., Pacific Time.  This put “breakfast crew,” the team members who are cooking breakfast, up at 4:30 EST, which is 1:30 a.m. Pacific Standard Time.  Yes, you heard me: 1:30 in the morning, having not yet adjusted to the time change, and 4 college students are up and cooking breakfast for 10. They did this cheerfully, with much quiet humor and banter, for the good of the team. We work with very limited funding, and do almost all of our own cooking to stretch our budget.  At Nationals, the team members who weren’t racing that day cheerfully and voluntarily got up at the equivalent of 1:30 a.m. so that their teammates who were racing could sleep.  My own contribution to breakfast crew is making coffee in my bombproof stainless steel French Press. I couldn’t function without it, and gladly share the coffee.

Plucky college kids that they are, there were no complaints on race morning. Racers were up at 5:00 (except Alberto, who chose to sleep in until the luxuriant hour of 5:30), and we were out the door by 6:00 a.m., EST, which is 3:00 a.m. Pacific time.

We arrived at the Road race staging area in Marshall, NC., in a park beside the French Broad River. Marshall, which is the capitol of Madison County, has about 900 residents. The population of the town was effectively doubled for the two race days that it hosted if you counted the racers, team helpers, parents and fans.

As opposed to the NCAA, bicycle racing is only divided into two divisions: schools under 15,000 students, (Division II), and those above that figure, which are the Division 1 schools. Our NWCCC has both Division I and II teams.  At 1,500 students, Whitman has always punched well above our weight, with 3 national Division II Team championships over the years.

In races over a certain distance, you are allowed a “feed zone.” In the feed zone helpers from the team have water bottles for to “hand up” to their teammates. Depending on the distance, “musettes,” can be handed out, which contain actual food.  The feed zone on this course was on a series of switchbacks up a hill.  Our first, (taller) students were in the first, more crowded section, and I was around the switchback in case they missed a bottle in the first section. Typically, you wear a team jersey so that it helps the riders spot their own team helpers.

Here’s my view from the switchback of the first part of the feed zone.

Except for the rolling section along the river, this was an insanely hilly course in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Many corners were “off camber,” i.e., sloped the wrong way, and all in all, it was a day for climbers with great technical skills who could adapt to the humid, hot conditions.

Our women did well in the road race, two of whom, Becca Mellama and Sara Youmans, were at Collegiate Nationals for the first time. Dessie and Sara finished in the diminished lead pack, at 10^th and 13^th.  Becca and Mackenzie finished a bit farther back, on a day when the finishers were few on a tough, hot day.

The men went off at midday. It was steamy hot by now, the fog turned into cloying humidity. Senior Alberto Santos Davidson was our only racer in this event, but the racers from the Northwest Collegiate Cycling Conference always work together to take care of  “our own” at Nationals. Thus, we helped Patrick from Montana State University, Mary Jane and Philip from University of Idaho, and the Portland State and WWU racers, and they reciprocate in turn. Alberto survived a torrid day with a challenging course in the middle of the finishers.

After riding 49 and 73 miles, respectively, in 80-degree heat, we packed up our tent, coolers, and equipment and drove back to the homestay. Unlike many schools which support their cycling teams as varsity sports, complete with coaches, mechanics and “pro” setups, Whitman cyclists do everything themselves. They run their own program, budget their funds, fund-raise, and divide up duties that at many schools are taken care for the racers.

We are fortunate to have willing parents who help out at Nationals. While our racers  showered back at the home-stay while the rest of the crew put our feet up while the Guzy-Spragues, Mellemas and Weigles cooked us a delicious curry dinner.  The camaraderie was wonderful, which is one of the very best parts of our team.  The parents left us with pie, took my coffee order for the morning, nationals being a heavy-duty caffeine day, and said good-night.

Saturday morning was the “Crit,” or criterium, which was in Asheville itself.  With the races starting later in the day, we had a well-earned sleep in. Some of the parents who were staying in Asheville had scouted out a spot for us to sneak through an alleyway and park right beside the course. We were joined at our primo spot by our friends from University of Idaho.  Everyone fell to, setting up coolers, tent, food and trainers.

This was the toughest Crit that I have ever seen: a half mile hill at 6% to the start/finish line, with a right hand onto an even steeper hill up for another few blocks. This was followed by a chicane, (S-curve) with a bombing, 40+ mile per hour descent with two very tight turns.  This was really a Crit of attrition.  Usually, Crits are very technical, with lots of turns, with perhaps a short hill, but with great emphasis on sprinting power, and bike handling skills. This, however, was a climbers course, for the very strong, who still had great cornering skills. One of our NWCCC friends clipped his pedal in the corner repeatedly, and it was visibly worn by the end of the race.

With the races starting at nearly mid-day, the temperature was already a muggy 85 degrees.  It was so hot that we, along with a number of other teams, were doing “water dumps,” where you dump cold water on your teammate’s back as they are riding up the hellacious hill. This helps to promote evaporation and keep core temperatures from getting too high and causing heat-stroke.

I’m proud to say that two of women all finished, with only ten riders out of 40 finishing without getting lapped.  Dessie finished 14^th, despite having to visit the “pits” (the mechanics) to get her saddle leveled after hitting a pothole on the blistering downhill.  Becca finished a very respectable 15^th.  Only 22 out of the 40 finished, most being “pulled.” For the safety of a race, lapped riders are pulled at the referee’s discretion. It is a testament to the toughness of this course that 15 out of 40 riders were pulled at 2 laps and more down.

It was a steam bath when Alberto began the men’s crit.  On the downhill, he hit speeds up to 38 miles per hour. Despite being a very good climber, he was one of the last 2 riders pulled. Only 28 out of 59 starters finished, 12 of those finishers were lapped.

After the Crit, the parents were taking the team out to an early dinner.  The Guzy-Spragues graciously & wisely offered us a chance to shower at their hotel near downtown. Rita Mellema asked the front desk for 10 towels. We got up to the room, and a few minutes later a bellhop arrived with 10 towels.  The first racer popped into the shower, and the rest of us lounged on every conceivable surface, including the floor. A room for 2 people is quite snug with 16 or so jammed inside.  Another knock on the door produced another 10 towels. I think the front desk smelled us coming! 

We ate at the delicious, and very local, Early Girl Eatery, which has a large vegetable and herb garden out back. Anything that the “adults” couldn’t finish quickly was finished off at the “kids” table.

 Sunday was the Team Time Trial, and event that Whitman has almost always medaled in.  This event is the essence of teamwork in bike racing. You start with up to four riders, and each rider takes a turn on the front. They rotate through quickly, each rider staying at the front for only 30 seconds to a minute. This allows maximum speed due to the advantage of “drafting.” You get a benefit of roughly 1% for each mile an hour of speed; thus at 20 miles per hour, you are working 20% less than the lead rider.  The time for the team is taken on the 3^rd rider, so you can “drop” no more than one rider of your four. Best of all is when you finish with all four, because that usually means that you are going strong.

This was the day that Zander, Kevin, and Alex had waited for: they had taken 5 days out of their schedule just before finals to race with Alberto in the Team Time Trial.  Breakfast crew became Silas, Dave Tupper and I. I think everyone survived.

Our ladies finished 3^rd, and were proud bronze medalists. The men were 8^th in a large, tough field.

In overall team standings, we were 8^th out of 39 Division II schools.  We only graduated 3 seniors, one of whom, Alberto Santos Davidson, was team president, and the only senior at nationals.

If it’s Mother’s Day, you have a group of 16, and have no reservations, you want to have Sherry Guzy-Sprague as your personal concierge.  She was able to talk our way into one large table for all of us at a restaurant in Weaverville.

The home where we were staying had a firepit, so we spent our last evening roasting s’mores and  enjoying the campfire. A perfect ending to our trip. But wait; there’s more: Waffle House.

 I was totally uninitiated as to the institution of Waffle House, which some of our kids definitely were campaigning for throughout our stay.  On the way to the Asheville Airport, its allure could not longer be resisted.  Thus, our Asheville stay was at an end.

All that remained were flights to Atlanta, with the memorable spectacle of Kevin having a burrito consisting of “one of everything” at the airport Chipotle, another flight to Salt Lake, and finally to Pasco, with the 10:30 p.m. arrival (1:30 a.m., EST) and a tired drive back to Walla Walla.

The time machine spell over, I once again I woke up with a crystal clear realization that I am no longer 22 years old.

We were fortunate to have a great group of parents who helped out and fed us several times as well. Sherry and Gary Guzy-Sprague drove to Asheville from the D.C. area, bringing with them a bike, wheels, trainers, two tables, a first-aid kit, coolers, and who knows what else!  Couldn’t do it without you – or at least not well.

Jim and Rita Mellema flew from Spokane, and kept me well supplied with coffee (always a necessity, but especially so during the extended energy expenditure of 5 days keeping up with college kids). Jill and Gary Weigle came from Boise and pitched in with fervor wherever and whenever we needed a hand.