Rolling down the TT start ramp. Photo by Molly Sheridan.

I should probably start setting bigger goals. Or at least begin calibrating what I hope to achieve beyond what I know to be possible rather than aiming for the upper limit. People who know me know I’m a pretty big watt weenie. And that I’m decent in the time trial. I used to ride TTs blind (i.e. without a power meter) but not this year. It’s become a habit to look at the course profile, winning times from previous years, and do a whole bunch of secret FTP math with my coach to arrive at the magic number that will get me that time or at least an understanding of what is possible for me.

This has worked out pretty well and I’ve pretty much nailed the TT targets all year. 4th at Killington. 7th at Tour of Washington County (which I still declare in my mind to be 5th because it would have been in the real world, meaning a world without Nate Wilson and Josh Frick). And then this one at Tour of the Valley. My time was a few seconds slower than last year’s winner—who actually took the win again this year, besting his previous time by over 20 seconds—but it was still good enough for 4th place. The crummy part was that I missed the podium by .015 seconds. Yeah, you’re reading that right. I probably lost that time when I turned my head to wonder why some PRO rider needed to draft off me, which didn’t seem very pro to me at all. Anyway, turns out there was a 5-step podium, which I didn’t realize, and since I didn’t stick around @CXHairs made fun of me.

These dudes thought it would be fun to attack the feed zone. Photo by Mike Briggs

…so I followed their wheels. Photo by Mike Briggs

The road race was the next day and was a different course from previous years due to fracking or something. So instead of the long climb each lap, there was a series of 6 or so awful pitches in rapid succession. There were also bonus seconds for the one and only KOM point and since the results rounded to the nearest second, there were like five of us tied for 3rd on GC. I managed to get 3rd at the KOM point, went 1″ to the good, and hoped that the race didn’t break up.

And it didn’t largely due to one team completely controlling the race for the leader. I was thankful for that. It was actually pretty impressive and a style of racing that wasn’t terribly familiar to me as a card carrying member of the MABRA attack-to-the-death peloton. At about mile 72 of 80 the attacks started coming though. I went with everything and we actually had a decent selection of 7 or 8 guys but nobody really felt like putting any work into the move. It was a sprint, which I stayed out of, finishing safe and in 3rd overall going into the last day.

Pretty happy it wasn’t raining. Photo by Mike Briggs

The crit. Not my favorite event. Though I’ve been known to survive them. The threat of torrential downpours didn’t help any either. I was heading to Kauai on vacation the following day and the last thing I wanted was to be sitting by the pool in pants and long sleeves so my road rash didn’t get sunburned. If it started raining I think that would have been my there-are-more-important-things-than-bike-racing moment and my wife would have rejoiced.

Showing off the team’s new deep V-neck jersey. Photo by Fred Jordan

A Mt Khakis rider demonstrates the pro tactic of “drafting”. Photo by Mike Briggs

But it never rained and the weather was, in fact, pretty nice if you are a fan of heat and humidity (which I am not). There were attacks, of course, some more menacing than others and I went with the most menacing looking ones though the large teams made sure they never amounted to anything. It was a pretty comfortable race, so comfortable that my mind was already thinking about Kauai and I thought that I’d just surf the back to stay out of trouble. I didn’t really count on dudes not being able to stick with the front of the race in the last 200m but that’s what happened. A small gap opened on the short rise before the line and I was on the wrong side of some tired legs apparently. That error bumped me from 3rd to 6th on GC. That stung pretty bad, especially because it was such a boneheaded mistake, but in 24 hours time I forgot all about it, as terrible as that may sound.

I got 6th on GC. Aloha!

Nick Maimone wins at Iron Hill. Photo by Sean Carpenter

If you asked me in the AM after the qualifying race how the afternoon would go, I’d have said “don’t talk to me I think I’m going to pass out.” After racing in scorching heat, once I crossed the line of the Iron Hill Amateur Qualifier I was nauseous, vision blurry, and worried about wether or not I was going to faint any minute. I text my coach “10th…Felt terrible,” and contemplated not racing. I’d already had a week of racing and hundreds of travel miles in my legs. I was sure that I was fried from my stint in Wisconsin. He responded “Well, tonight’s another race.”

Iron Hill for me, as a Philadelphian is very important. It is a large event within my local community, not to mention huge crowds and a lot of fun. The course suits me well as it is simple and fast, though the turns can be technical enough to give me an advantage. It was just Wittwer and I racing that evening—the dream team 101. Before the race, I had no clue that this would be my day. As Greg has been in excellent form the past couple months, I have found myself working towards our success in putting Greg in a top spot in the results more often than not. I have absolutely no problem doing so as Greg is a excellent teammate, great friend, and has proven himself to be a key player on our squad both on and off the bike.

Wittwer on a bike that he left in the dryer too long. Photo by Sean Carpenter

We went into the race with a common goal, to get one guy up the road because a breakaway can absolutely roll at Iron Hill. Given both of our riding styles and skillsets, we had 2 out of 2 riders who were candidates for being off the front. The first 10 laps or so had proven to be interesting as I believe Greg went down behind a crash in the first lap of the race. Greg reappeared into the peloton on a fresh bike from the SRAM neutral support. I was concerned about his comfort on the foreign bike but he got right into the mix.

I ended up following wheels at the front for the first 10-15 laps. Noah Granigan, a junior from New Jersey took a flyer after a big preme and went clear of the field. Shortly after, Mike Egan a successful triathlete from Philadelphia went with him. I saw the move and knew it was something to consider. I rode near the front the next few laps letting them gain some distance and waiting to see if it looked promising enough. After a couple laps of the 2 man break gaining time and the field unactive, I attacked on the finishing straight. I looked back and like a dream come true, no one on my wheel, the field spread across the road. I was on my way to the break.

It took about 1.5 laps to catch Noah and Mike. By the time I got there, I was hurting and didn’t know what the outcome would be for me. I have been in many breakaways over the years. I have experienced success, heartbreak, and moments of uncertainty. I knew that if I was going to succeed I needed to ride as steady and smart as I could-knowing my legs weren’t feeling strong. I chose wisely where to position myself, when to be on the front, and rode steady. Mike Egan has much more of a diesel engine than me and put his all into this breakaway. Noah contributed as best he could on junior gearing and helped keep the spirit alive performing excellent before he went off to Canada to race with the big kids.

Nick Maimone on his Raleigh Militis 3. Photo by Sean Carpenter

I kept noticing that I could take the turns a bit faster and smoother than my break-mates often opening up a gap between turn 3 and 4. I knew if it came down to the end, I could take advantage of this. I also understand that out of a breakaway I can sprint too. Coming into the final laps I realized that the field was shut down, no way were they catching us with 2-3 laps to go. I sat back, rotated smoothly, and watched patiently. I was waiting for an attack out of Mike Egan. I believed because of Noah’s gearing he would not be wise to attack. I waited for Mike and he never went. Mike took an overly dominant role in the final lap. I went into the final turns 3rd wheel. Coming into the finishing stretch. Out of the last corner Mike stayed left, stood up, but wasn’t accelerating fast enough to call it a sprint. Noah jumped around Mike and took the lead. I stuck to Noah’s wheel like glue until about 150 meters to go. Coming around him we hit a point where we were neck and neck. Then I started gaining on him and crossed the line 1st. My peripheral vision told me he was about half to a full bike length behind me and I had the win. I opted for a one handed salute, as I was moving extremely fast and the road was pretty choppy.

Nick on the podium at Iron Hill

This was probably the most exciting moment of my career as a bike racer. The podium supplied me with a smile, a huge silver plate trophy, and a large bottle of amazing Iron Hill beer. Once I stepped off the podium, my beer was gloriously being handled by none other than Greg Wittwer who rode the front, shut everything down and controlled the pace like a true professional. One thing we have to remember as a breakaway is that without Greg, we likely would have been caught. It was a moment I’d never forget walking through the parking lot splitting a well earned beer with the teammate that made this possible for me.

Wittwer wins at Dairylands

Going into ToAD we raced very well as a team at Reston Grand Prix in Reston Virginia. We were all looking forward to a good week in Wisconsin and starting it off in the money at Reston was what we needed to get the confidence up as we were heading into a whirlwind of criterium racing, featuring 125 rider fields and courses that may not necessarily favor our squad of breakaway savy riders.

Going into the Schlitz Park Criterium, we had a plan to stay active at the right times. The hill was our saving grace as we all go uphill fairly well and we used it as leverage to wear the field down and have one of our moves work. After trading attacks, a couple small moves went. Some stuck for a lap or two, some dwindled off the front. Finally Wittwer put in the winning attack bridging up to one up the road. The one up the road had been slowly frying off the front and by the time Greg got to him he was able to pass him and continue solo. The front of the field was now controlled and we took advantage of the technical course by leading into the turns and controlling the pace through the technical sections. Wittwer rolls through with his arms raised and Marcos and I follow suit for an excellent team performance and Greg in the ToAD cow jersey.

Our first impressions were long lasting as we placed multiple riders in the money every single day. The following races were fast, usually 4 corner crits. We had our sprinting legs out but weren’t afraid to try to make a break happen. The final day in Madison brought an excellent team presence and performance as we aimed to bump me into a podium spot on GC. Greg rode the front 99% of the time controlling the pace as I went in and out of the field trying to get away-saving some legs for a leadout from Greg. In the final lap of the race, I was on Greg’s wheel, lead into the hill perfectly and got a free ride up the hill. We made the final turn and as I went to come around to sprint to what I believed was a stage win, the rider on my inside flatted and came into me. I had to slam on the brakes and restart my sprint. The beauty of it was the rider who flatted happened to be in the green jersey. I was able to bump up in GC for a podium spot in 2nd overall.

We packed up the car, and blasted The Fatback Band “Gotta Get My Hands On Some (Money)” as we journeyed home with some serious winnings, experiences, and memories that we’ll never forget.