Bill warned me he was going to try to make it hard from the start, especially up the steeper climb. I made sure to stay close to him, but not too much happened during the first lap. Acouple of guys got a little ways off the front though. I bridged up to them on the climb through the feed zone, and eventually five of us woulnd up in the front: Geoff Hamilton, Mike Spangenberg, Stuart Abramson, Jon Bold and myself. Spangenberg wasn't doing much work, and Bold told me staight out, "I'm not working today Al," (Why, I never did find out). This group stayed together for a while, experessing various aamounts of frustratoin at our passengers.
Eventually, Bill an John McKone brideged up. Spangenburg got popped first, then Hamilton. I still felt really good. So good, in fact, I wasn't really sure what ot do with myself. I'd been attacking a lot, trying to get rid of Spangenburg. Once he was gone, I kind of kept attaking, now for no good reason. The third time up the steep section, I lost contact with the break. I hung there for a while, a few seconds off the back. I could see Bill looking around, wondering if I was going to get back o, but I just couldn't do it. Even the porspect of riding an 11 mile lap by myself didn't provide enough motivation.
So, I rode on my own. I ried to keep my pace up and used the climbs for training. Finally, I got to the top of the last climb, and knew I had a couple of miles of down hill to go before I was done for the day. I was oretty blown, and started to relax. Then at 1K to go, I looked back and saw somebody behind me who was clearly racing! I panicked and went as hard as I could until the finish. I make it, bur just barely. The rider behind was Coleman O'Connor. It turned out he was a lap down though, missing the start.
I didi the crit the next day. The hill wasn't steep enough to do much damage though in a 15 mile crit. It ended in a field sprint. Not really a race for me...