From: Austin Horse
To: Brooklyn Machine Works
Sent: Friday, May 11, 2007 2:18 PM
Subject: Any Given Sunday

I'm still recovering from this Sunday, when it felt like I raced all day. The night before, I was doing stunt work on Joe's Gangsta, set up cruiser style with a 2 speed kickback coaster brake. That wrapped early in the morning, and I only got to bed at 5 am. 5 hours later, I awoke and prepared myself for a long day at Kissena, our local velodrome, for the NYC leg of the Velocity tour.

Kissena dates back to the sixties, when it was used for Olympic qualifiers. As the decades went by, the track deteriorated, until it was better suited to motocross than track racing. 3 years ago it was repaved and reopened, and has been booming ever since. The asphalt is still fairly rough, and I haven't ever been really excited about racing out there, especially when I compare it to the speed I can achieve on the avenues in Manhattan.

But tickets to Ireland for the Cycle Messenger World Championships were up for grabs, and I'm a sucker for a hot prize like that. Taking my time riding out there, I felt myself ease into "the zone". I got there just in time to register, as the first race was about to begin. Luke Stiles, a smart older rider, hastily pinned on my number. I hopped on my bike and positioned myself at the wall for the first race, a ten lap scratch race. This is one of the easier races to understand. After ten laps, the first cyclist to cross the line would win. Campo, a racer whose passion is the revival of Kissena, was officiating and he signalled us to go.

We started off slowly, until the whistle went, and then people picked up speed. There were still 9 and a half laps to go. The pack split into two groups, with slower cyclists falling off the pace of the first group and stringing out between the two. I found myself in the last pack as this was happening. Quickly, I moved to the outside and leapfrogged back up to the lead group. Seven laps went by as I found myself in this group, staying up with it, avoiding getting boxed in, and not taking too much of the wind. With one lap to go, Peter Bradshaw jumped after the first turn. This happened right in front of me, so naturally I was on his wheel. I chased him until the final turn, and then passed him, barely edging past him at the line. He's a strong rider from Boston. I had ridden with him a month earlier in the Dude Abides alleycat, where I finished first out of town. Today though, I needed to beat him.

Five points up, I was in the lead. I felt good and strong. My gearing choice was perfect and my wheels were fast and smooth. The biggest surprise was the bike. This was the first time I had raced the Gangsta at the track. Last season, I raced on a Panasonic Keirin frame we painted with 4916 graphics. Although stiff, the lugged NJS frame had been hard to handle at Kissena, as the multitude of washboards and bumps had thrown it around unexpectedly. The Gangsta absorbed the bumps beautifully thanks to its over sized steel tubing and still offered unbelievable speed thanks to it's stiff geometry. I had the perfect bike to win today.

The next race was the first heat of the match sprints. These are two lap races. Timing and strategy are critical in these because the shortness of the race affords little time for corrections. Four racers would go, two would advance. I won my heat, with a bit of a scare. As I passed a rider before the third turn, he drifted up track a little ways into me. My messenger skills, honed by years of evading car doors and splitting lanes helped me out and I kept my pace.

Although not worth any points, I won this race easily and was feeling good. The other riders knew I was one to watch. I got ready for race three, a miss and out. Also called "devil-take-the-hindmost", in this race the last rider to cross the line gets eliminated until there are only 5 left, then they battle it out for 1, 2, and 3. It can be dangerous, as riders try to squeeze through gaps and not get caught at the end. I've seen crashes happen in the regular season at the track, with experienced racers. I was a little worried about how some of my fellow messengers would ride in this race. I decided to take it easy. We began and I quickly found myself sucking a wheel near the front in the sprinters lane. I figured I was in a good position, but everyone passed us by the time we finished and I was the first person knocked out. Surprised, I responded by focusing harder on winning. I lost this race because I was too complacent and conservative.

After this race we had the Australian pursuit. My teammate Alex Farioletti told me this was my race to win. In this race, the racers are positioned in the sprinter's lane an equal distance, about 30 feet, apart from each other all the way around the track. As you pass the rider in front of you, they are eliminated. The race is over when only one cyclist remains. Two racers ahead of me was Adam Staudt, another NYC messenger who was now 5 points ahead of me in the overall standings, thanks to my performance in the miss and out. I resolved to catch him as quickly as possible in the hope that he would not get any points in this race. We started and I jumped after him, catching him halfway around the the first lap. I buckled down then and tried to ride a smart race. Catching up to my teammate Yatika Fields, I paced him as we passed other riders until him and I were the only messengers left. He got second, and I won 5 points for first. I was tied again for first! Alright, thinks were looking good.

While this was going on, Peter Bradshaw was getting points in his own separate races (the field was split because of the large number of riders) He was now 3 points ahead of me. Only one race was left- Match sprints. I had to win it. The last of the qualifying races went down and it was just Peter, me, and Jacob Smoller, another messenger from Boston. We set up for a tense 3 man duel, NYC outnumbered by Boston two to one. At the first lap, we all hung back, nobody wanting to be the bunny the others would chase. As we neared the end of the first lap, the bell was rung to signal the final lap. We slowed to a crawl. Around the first 2 turns, an intense game of strategy played out. I expected that the two Bostoners would work together. Jacob went up track, I followed him, and Peter got behind me. Peter was in perfect position. He could watch us and try to catch me unawares, jumping when I would be ill-prepared to chase him down. Or he could see me go, and try to catch my draft, coming around me at the end as I had beaten him in the first race of the day. Jacob faked a sprint, hoping I would take the bait and commit. Nothing doing. Peter was behind, and I was unsure what he was up to. Finally, Jacob dove down the track and started pedalling furiously. I sped after him and caught up quickly. Something wasn't quite right. He should have been going faster. I figured he was a decoy for Peter to get into perfect position behind me. I didn't hesitate and passed him at full speed. I had half a lap to keep my gap. I thundered around the turns, the Brooklyn Machine Works bike tracking straight and true, even through the worst of stutter bumps. I could focus everything on turning those pedals and staying in front, and I did, winning by a couple of bike lengths.

I was elated to have won that race and accepted everyone's congratulations happily, but I still felt uneasy. Peter's second place finish was enough to put him one point ahead of me in the overall standings. My poor performance in the miss and out had just barely cost me. He is going to Ireland, and I still have to find my ticket. There are two more Velocities, in SF and Chicago, and if I win the NACCCs again this year I understand I'll win a ticket, so I'll get it yet.

That concluded the velodrome racing for the day. Felipe "the King" organized an alleycat from the track to the after party. The third alleycat he's done, it's called the Angel III. A sick trophy, made by Gandy, a talented ex-messenger and now artist, was up for grabs, as were custom bags and other cool prizes. Long after the racing had ended at the track, we hung around waiting for the word to start. As the day cooled off I got chilly. I had given my bag with all my stuff to Alex's girlfriend, and was shivering in my lycra. My resolve faded, maybe I would just catch a ride to the afterparty in my truck. After all, I had finished second today right? I could be proud of that. The word went out that the race would begin soon and I made a quick decision to go for it. We had a half lap to ride around the track and then we'd head to a bar in Williamsburg. I was fortunate, this bar lay along the route I normally took when riding to the track. I had passed with a block of it in the morning on the way out to the track, and now all I had to do was retrace my steps.

While waiting for the race to begin, racers had strategized the fastest way back. Consulting maps and bravado, some declared they would take the freeway. I decided to stick with my regular route. Alex had shown it to me long ago, and he had whittled it down over time to the most direct and quick way.

Felipe yelled something and the race began. I had started at the front on the outside. I utilized this to sprint to near the front. I wanted to be among the first to streak through the gate as I knew it would bottleneck and I didn't want to get caught. Second man out, I caught the first rider, Crihs, and began to pace with him. When it was my turn to pull, he dropped off. I settled into my pace. We come down a big hill onto a major street. I timed it perfectly and flitted through the traffic into Flushing Meadows park. There's a shortcut we use though here. There are two bridges to cross, but it's the best way to deal with the freeway. Cinco de Mayo festivities were just wrapping up as I raced through, but thankfully nothing slowed my down.

Over the bridges, I was on the highway feeder road. I buckled down and started to ride hard against the wind and traffic. Dodging turning cars, I took a quick moment to look behind me. I could see the other riders 200 feet behind me. I almost lost it then, as a car pulled up to an intersection to turn towards me. Luckily, they didn't pull into me. This was one of those situations where I realized the danger I had been in only once it was over. I increased my awareness and flew through the familiar territory of my route home. by the time I was over the hills and past the cemetery, I could see no one behind me. Although encouraged by this, I knew that I was competing with riders on the highway. I knew some would hold onto cars and reach crazy speeds. I kept my pace up. Every so often I would ask myself 'Can I go harder?' I responded by finding extra effort. I climbed the last hill on Metropolitan. Coming down it, I knew I was in a good position. Going through my head was the disappointment at the track earlier and the awesome trophy awaiting the winner of this race. I rejected second place, first loser, and kept it up. I roared around the final turn to see tape stretched across the road, and Michelle and Sarah cheering. Skidding through the tape, I was done. I had won. A minute later Lucas Brunelle and Jersey Dan showed up. Lucas had skitched a semi up to 60 mph on the freeway, and I had still beaten him! I had been intimidated when he had shown up at the start of the race. Fresh, and with a fancy carbon fiber everything bike, I was worried that I would not be able to beat him with a track bike. But the Brooklyn Machine Works Gangsta took it all in stride and rewarded me with my best day ever.

Finally, my riding was done for the day. Big thanks to Squid and Felipe for organizing the two races of the day and allowing us a venue for excellence. I am encouraged by what I feel was my best day of racing this year, and can't wait for NACCC.

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