Kensington Road Race '09

I don't think Scott Gifford has directed enough bike races. I stood at the top of the Maple Beach hill talking to Alex Keomany and Libby and Jacq Roberge, as Scott walked up all casual and relaxed. Maybe he'd just eaten too many of the overripe bananas lying around the registration area. Something was making him look liked he'd just drifted out of a pranayama meditation retreat. He was mellow. Maybe he hasn't had enough experience to realize just how hard race directing is. Let's hope he does a few more. He'll catch on.

I'm not a good spectator. I felt more keyed up than Scott as I stood there watching racers pedal wearily up and over the hill. Sure, there are social aspects of spectating that are nice, but given a choice I'd much rather be out there crackling a calf muscle or two. I get fidgety standing by the side of the road.

I've ridden Kensington a number of times. I'd like to say it suits me because I like hills, but there's this long stretch out to Martindale Beach that favors power riders, so the hills become more or less neutralized. But hey, it's southeast Michigan. This is about as good as it gets.

The Cat 1/2's had a fascinating moment as they reached Martindale Beach on their first lap. Someone forgot to lift the gate that leads into the turnaround. It brought them all to a standstill for a few minutes until that was sorted out. As a cyclocrosser, I happen to like obstacles, but many road racers expect the road to just lay out before them like a crossword puzzle with answers that are far too easy. They're a pampered lot. It must have something to do with sitting in someone else's draft too often.

If you ever want some peace and quiet during the race, go to the registration area once the racing is all underway. It was silent except for a couple of Wizard of Oz types behind some tent flaps at Command Central documenting the results as they were flown in by pigeon from the finish line. Things pick up again as the curious gather to see how everyone did.

But the most somber area of all was down at Maple Beach. It looked like a wake as a high school crew meet was scuttled by the cool, windy, rainy weather. Boy were they a downcast looking lot. Maybe they need to consider a new sport. Bike racing, perhaps? Better than sitting all morning with your butt on an overturned shell.

Contrast all that to the finish line. That's where Joe Lekovish was, microphone in hand. Joe doesn't allow for quiet. He keeps his eye out for safe passage and patters on to the racers about their lap count. He didn't act like he'd eaten too many bananas. No meditation retreat for him. But he's directed countless bike races. He knows how hard it is. Getting wound up is not a once in a while thing during a bike race. It is the bike race. "C'mon guys, harder, harder. One more lap! Pedal Harder! One more lap." If it were up to Joe, there's always one more lap.

More doctored up photos of the race can be found at: picasaweb.google.com/Pulcipher/KensingtonRoadRace09#