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Finally...I
could see the front group just ahead. I had been chasing them for
almost two miles after letting them drop me on Demarest. I'd spent
the entire Wednesday ride waiting for my opportunity: drafting
smart, being careful not to blow up, saving glycogen and biding my
time. Now they were in my sights again, and I had something left for
the end. I thought, "Get ready. This is going to be special."
I could see
Twin George spinning at the front. Immediately beyond him was the
final hill of the day. All I had to do was catch the group, use
their draft to slingshot up along the left and take George out. I
was sure I could do it, "If I can only get around him before he
realizes what is happening."
Twin was
about to be toast.
I checked my
position, quietly changed my gearing and took off. |
A moment
later on a slight downhill I caught the pack. My breathing and heart
rate peaked as I soared up the side of the pace line and passed
almost a dozen riders. I redoubled my effort as I slammed by Twin
and flew off the front. Perfect timing. He startled when I whipped
by. We were already half way up the hill...exactly where it steepened,
"NO WAY he can respond!"
I was going
so fast that passing him felt like veering close to a mailbox on a
long downhill. A little whoosh, and I saw his Lightspeed pop behind
my right shoulder. I heard a light click; and, in the same instant
that George's front wheel was dropping out of my periphery, a truck
roared up behind. I shot a glance to the left.
No truck...just
Twin George, big smile and gone, Randy on his wheel.
"My, wasn't
that a short story!"
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