eighteen minutes of racing

O-Cup #4 promised to be interesting... A new course along flat and gently sloping terrain, with a twisty bit along beautiful Lake Huron. It was the sort of course where team tactics and peloton positioning would give riders the upper hand and the chance to control the race.

With three O-Cups under our belt this season, we've gotten to know our competition pretty well. We had plans and allies; a break would take place, and a backup plan would ensue if it was caught.

We warmed-up by riding to the course. Our team rotated in a paceline like clockwork, the road was smooth and flat, the fresh morning air and steady wind rewarded our efforts... and my bike performed perfectly.

We watched our teammates in the 8am heat come to their sprint finish, with J.T. taking first place. Their victory lifted our spirits as we prepared for our start.

That all changed once the race got underway. *click*click*click* I changed gears to try to settle the chain *click*click*skip* I realized that any sudden pressure would likely result in a sudden jolt against my legs. As we turned the first corner, I alerted my teammates: my bike would not endure the race, let alone stand up to a sprint. One offered to adjust my derailleur barrel while we were in motion. We gradually drifted to the back of the pack were we could safely repair my bike without interfering in the race.

Then a crash occurred a few metres in front of us. Two riders collided and slid to the pavement, then two more as they tried to avoid them, tumbling sideways in a spectacular fashion. I scrubbed some speed and manoeuvred around the carnage: the support cars slowing behind me, the pack accelerating before me, and I jumped out of my saddle to grab some wheels in case an attack was underway. *snap* My pedal unclips, my shoe drags along the ground, the bike rolls underneath me as my weight collapses to my left, and I land on my hip, elbow and ankle.

I quicky rise and scan my bike for damage, noticed that my chain was off --no, not off --wrapped around my cassette and disconnected from my chainrings. A pin failed... 3rd time it's happened to me in a race, but this is the first time I hit the ground because of it.

I was amongst the victims of the crash, having avoided them but apparently invovled in it. One junior skinned his arm like me, another was bleeding from his nose and brow, another rider had a clean fracture through his frame, while another had unmounted his front tubular.

And I, bleeding from my elbow, ankle and hip; loaded my bike in the commissioner's car, and took a lift to the finish line.