Call me Mr. Bismarck

The following is an excerpt from an article on Wikipedia concerning the history of the Bismarck:
"The German battleship Bismarck is one of the most famous warships of the Second World War. The lead ship of her class, she was named after the 19th-century German chancellor Otto von Bismarck. Bismarck's fame came from the Battle of the Denmark Strait in May 1941 (in which the battlecruiser HMS Hood, flagship and pride of the British Royal Navy, was sunk), from Churchill's subsequent order to "Sink the Bismarck" [1], and from the relentless pursuit by the Royal Navy that ended with her loss only three days later."

Not only was the Bismarck one heck of a battleship, she also is a bike race promoted by Breakaway Promotions for the Indiana Race Series. This race took place on August 19 in the Morgan-Monroe State Forrest. My brother-in-law (Chris) and I started racing this year. The race dubbed Monroe-Bismarck-Monroe will be our fifth of the season. Because of this relative lack of a experience, he and I decided we would race the "C" category race. The "C" race would be the lowest categorized race of the day.

We would travel three laps of 11 miles each. Our group was about average for the day. There were somewhere around 15 racers. The course started out on nicely paved roads. The first six miles were spent on these lovely roads before we made a right hand turn that was sure to change the mood of the group. After the turn, we made what could only be described as a terrifying descent. I am somewhat of a timid fellow when it comes to going downhill, so I was pulsing the brakes. Even at this attempt to keep my speed down, I still surpassed the 40 MPH mark. It was at this time of watching my life pass before my eyes that I decided the first chance that I get to breakaway from this group, I'm was taking it. It was a few more miles before we hit the hillier section of the race. Once the road when up, Chris and I made our way to the front of the group. He was leading the charge, and I was a few places back taking inventory on the amount of effort the other racers were exerting to keep up. When I saw a lot of weakness from the group, I took over the pace making responsibilities. I thought I was just setting a fast tempo, but when I looked back after another right hand turn there was only three of us. The breakaway had begun nine miles into the race.

Chris had stayed back with the pack to set a false tempo to let my group slip away. He would later attempt to bridge the gap from the main group to my breakaway. For the next 8 miles or so, I pulled the group for the strong majority of the time. When it became obvious to me and one of the other breakaway riders that the third member of our group wasn't going to help our efforts, we decided to try to drop him by attacking. The other guy attacked first and seemed to go a little too hard. When I countered his attack, he blew up. At this point the break was down to two riders. As soon as we hit the hills, I attacked again. This time I went a little too hard and was brought back in by the other rider. We rode together until we had completed the second lap.

Somewhere along the way we picked up a rider that had started with the "B" group. This rider took notice that the rider in my breakaway was something of a parasite and didn't take to kindly to it. He did everything he could to help me by letting me draft him at high speeds through the nicely paved section of the course. This was a legal move as the promoter of the race had indicated before the race began. With this help and a fairly mundane pace for the last lap, I was fresh for the hills and ready to answer any attack. The other rider from my "C" race "found his legs" when the hills came up for the third time. In the steep section he did his best to attack. Riding a conservative style, I calmly followed his wheel not giving him more than a few inches between his rear wheel and my front. Over the final two and a half miles he attacked three times trying to eliminate me before the finish. Still feeling fresh, I wasn't going anywhere. When we were within 500 yards from the finish, he sat up and congratulated me on a strong race. He said that I worked hard and because of that, he would not contest the sprint. This type of action is not unheard of in bike races. Nonetheless, it was still an honorable action. I crossed the line in first place.

Approximately forty-five seconds later, Chris, who had also drug his group of parasites around for the same distance as I did, caught his fellow competitors, who offered him no such courtesy as my kindly wheelsucker did, off guard and out-sprinted them for third place. A pretty good ending for a couple of novices.

If you look at my profile on myspace.com, you will see that my call sign is Mr. 2nd place. Chris has renamed me after this race. I will now be known as the Mr. Bismarck. I guess that means in about three days I will sink to the bottom of the ocean.

Our race results for the year:

Ceraland Crit: 5th (Chris, who also won two lap primes), 11th (me)
Eagle Creek Traditional: 1st (Chris), 2nd (me, I won the lap prime)
St. Crispain Junior Road Race: 1st (Chris), 2nd (me)
Hendricks County Fast Crit @ Eagle Creek: 16th (Chris, as a good teammate he led our team out for the sprint), My Dad (7th, won the lap prime), 1st (me)
Monroe-Bismarck-Monroe: 3rd (Chris), 1st (me)