2001 Durand Road Race
Aeolus had had enough. "Master of the four winds? Like hell!" he thought, "I can't tell these guys what to do any more than I can train a cat." The house was a mess and ever since the ethanol plant had gone in next door the place smelled awful. Sure, he could just tell his unruly kids to blow the other way, "May as well try to train a cat." So he opened the door to his place on Olympus St. and kicked them out. "Get a job," he told each of them as they left. Predictably they scattered.
The West Wind came to Wisconsin where he enrolled in college at one of the state schools. He majored in Marketing and changed his name to West Wynde because he thought it sounded jazzier. He was not a very good student, nor was he very popular with his fellow dorm residents. He was restless and liked to rattle windows at night. He took great pleasure in scattering homework assignments and lecture notes. His roommate tried several times to punch his lights out, proving that there are big advantages to lacking a corporeal form.
One night his number came up. He got bounced from the dorms for throwing furniture down an elevator shaft. He had been drinking heavily and remembered none of it, which made it difficult to dispute the charge. He was quoted in the police report as saying "Stand back, I've had 3 gyros since the bars closed. You want wind, I'll give you wind!!"
He was not upset to have to leave. The shelter of the dorm building made him uneasy, he preferred open spaces with unobstructed horizons. He saw an ad for a farmhouse for rent in Amish country, and early on the morning of April 21st he went to check it out. He pulled out all his visible body piercings, put on a clean shirt that covered the most offensive of his many tattoos, and went to see his prospective landlord.
"No loud music, no dope, no booze, no parties, no blah, blah, blah." The owner's admonitions wafted gently through one ear and out the other, he may as well have been trying to train a cat. The place was everything our unruly minor deity was looking for. He agreed to all the conditions and waited until his landlord pulled out at the end of the driveway before retrieving the quarter barrel and pistol grip mega-hitter from of the trunk of his car. He reached for a Metalica CD but then opted for Blue Oyster Cult. He was feeling retro, and Don't Fear the Reaper had special meaning for him since The Reaper was a regular at the parties his dad used to throw back on Olympus St. By 10:30 he was feeling pretty loose. He noticed the gathering crowd near his new digs. "What's this, a bike race?" thought the ill-behaved meteorological phenomenon.
Bruce Harick put in a whirlwind performance in the 45+ race, coming
though the first lap with a solid lead on the rest of the field.
|45+ - 14 riders
The C racers came across like a squall. Picking deep finishes in those
conditions is a challenge to say the least. I had intended to film and
post each sprint finish, but I discovered that when lithium batteries decide
they are no longer interested in holding a charge they do not give you
a lot of warning. Falling back on old technology, Ross Fraboni was recorded
as the clear winner over Jason Holm and Jeff Peterson.
|C race - 32 riders
Mountain biker Todd McFadden brought some fresh air to his riding by
winning the B race. Jim Peterson, challenged by his brother's podium finish
in the C race, did him one better by coming in second.
|B race - 63 riders
The Women's race had 8 riders entered but only 5 on the start line.
The others must have left with one of the other fields. That may not have
been a bad idea because the race broke up pretty quickly and it was not
an easy day to be riding by your self. Kimberly Strom was the class of
the field as she breezed in solo.
|Women - 8 riders
Jake Stechmann went out like a tornado in the A race, acting as the rabbit for the Turkey Farmers forcing the other teams to chase. The field was hot on his trail as he turned the corner into the warp speed tailwind section.
On the second lap a lead group had formed including Stechmann, Scott Ralston, Adam Bergman, Dewey Dickey, Laszlo Alberti and Barrett Zoltai among others. Dave Metza was trying hard to get on terms with the leaders followed closely by the pack. He was successful, and joined by Kent McDaniel, Matt Gates, and Aric Hareland with a lap to go. They had a 40-second gap, not enough to ensure an escape.
On the final circuit it was pretty clear that it was time for riders
to fire up the shred-o-matic and go to work on each other. The leading
groups morphed and re-formed many times as riders hammered, blew, attacked,
dared, and died. Rider by rider the lead group was whittled down until
there was Adam Bergman with Wisconsin State Road Champion Dave Metza on
his wheel. As they approached the line Bergman left half a handlebar width
of sheltered space on his right, which was enough for Metza to keep his
wheels on the road. But the Wynde had one more trick to play as it gusted
Bergman over, not much but when there is no extra room then every centimeter
is precious. By this time Metza had committed, and was committed as he
powered around Bergman on the shoulder for the win.
|A Race - 73 riders
Through the Lance Armstrong Foundation, we have the ability to change the world by providing much-needed services to a world of cancer survivors. We can also impact the lives of thousands of individuals who are battling cancer or are at risk of developing the disease. We want to energize people to make a difference in the fight against cancer and to awaken the spirit of hope in all of us. - Lance Armstrong
The 190 entries we received, coupled with donated prize money, raised $1000 for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. Race proceeds also supported a $50 donation to the North End Ski Club of Cable, Wi in memory of Dorothy and Preston Morrel. The CVCC would like to thank everyone that came to race for helping us to make a difference, and especially Design Automation Resources for sponsoring the day's racing.
The day after the race the owner of the farm house ripped Mr. Wynde's rent check to bits and told him to get the $!@#& out. He likes the area though, so I doubt he's left for good.