Picture of sprint for 28th on stage 7
Stage 4 & 5 were undoubtedly the most painful in my first Ras. The pace was high coming into the last 15km of stage 4; the bunch was strung out as a result. I had good position about thirty riders from the front. All of a sudden the sounds and smells one associates with a pending inevitable crash began to dominate my senses; the smell of cork burning, rubber sliding and carbon touching. Before my brain processed exactly what was going on I was down. When one hits the ground there is a mental checklist which I assume all riders carry out. It involves checking to see if the body is working - legs, ok, arms, ok. As soon as the checklist is complete, thoughts turn immediately to re-gaining contact with the bunch. More time spent getting started translates into more wattage needed to make the juncture. By the time I cleared the bodies away from my bike, it became clear we were doomed to roll in and lose some time on GC. My first Ras crash but body and bike would ride another day.
I began stage 5 with a sense of childish excitement, the stage was due to finish at the top of the fabled Seskin Hill. When the Ras route was announced, this was a stage which particularly caught my attention. The steep finishing gradient would remove all the sprinters from contention for the county rider prize and, instead, favoured those with a high power to weight ratio. I harbored no romanticised notions of winning the stage but a top five placing in the county rider standings was a realistic goal.
No sooner had the stage begun, it had effectively ended for me. The race wound its way through the uniquely Irish roads ways, the bunch was compact and the pace was conservative. In hindsight, I was positioned further back in the bunch than I probably should have been - however, the front of the bunch didn't seem so safe yesterday. Pro riders have a strange habit of never sitting still on the bike. They change clothes many times during each stage: shoe covers, hats, leg warmers, they change it all. On this occasion, a Swiss KTM rider wasn't happy with how his sunglasses were positioned and apparently needed both hands to re-position them. The hands came off the bars, wheels touched and boom! Down I go - again. This time as I go through the checklist I know all is not right, not sure where the pain is coming from but I am hurting. I get to my feet and check to see if the bike is running- its not, it's a right-off. A not so quick bike change and I am on my way with a team mate who has waited for me. The Ras thought me many things, one of the biggest mistakes I made during the Ras was not having the team car pace me back up to the main group. In the aftermath of the crash, I naively instructed the team car to go ahead and leave me. A day spent with the broom wagon taught me a lesson I am unlikely to forget for a long time.
Stage 6 was the shortest of this years Ras, 127km finishing in Gorey, Co. Wexford.
I was nursing some wounds from the crashes on the previous two days and sporting a new bike courtesy of our team manager. Unlike the professionals, I was not in a position to have an identical spare bike; some late night positional changes on the borrowed bike attempted to mimic the feel of my now defunct Cervelo R3. I was quite happy with the result of the stage considering I had contemplated not starting that morning. I finished in 63rd position in a small group, about 9 minutes down on the winner with, among others, David O'Loughlin and Neil Delahaye.
Stage 7, 154km finishing in Kilcullen.
The Ras was turning towards home and starting to travel the roads I know so well. The route for the day was never going to lend itself to a bunch finish and the race came to life over the top of the 'Shay Elliot' climb. I had bad position going into the climb but good legs on the climb. I found myself in a group which was maybe the third group on the road. We chased hard over the Wicklow gap and regained contact with a group before Kilcullen. My thoughts immediately turned to the county rider prize; a few informal inquiries revealed I was out of luck. Three county riders were ahead of my group: Mark Dowling, Thomas Martin and Ryan Sherlock. I re-focused my mind and attempted to stay alert. I am still learning tactically and have a tendency to switch off coming into the finish of a race. My legs are surprisingly fresh considering what they have been through. We turn a sharp right corner and sprint toward the final rise in the road, all vying for 28th place. I am edged out by Sean Lacey as the line approaches but it's one of my better sprints. I placed 34th on the stage, 5th County rider home and my best placing in the Ras.
Stage 8, 140km finishing in Skerries
I had a feeling that it wouldn't be a ceremonial stage into Skerries where riders sipped champagne and posed for pictures. It wasn't one of the hardest days in the Ras but it sure wasn't easy. The cumulative fatigue was taking effect but my body was holding up better than expected. I knew the roads virtually all day. The finishing circuit on the 'Black Hill' in Skerries was a road I had trained on countless times. One of my team mates, Fergus Ryan, was born and reared in Skerries so this would be a special day for him. The streets were lined with people on the main street of Skerries. The 'Black Hill' had the names of the UCD riders inscribed on the pavement and walls. I could hear familiar voices cheering me on, encouraging me to dig a little bit deeper as the gradient increased. I finished in the second group on the road, 38 seconds back from the winner, in 56th place.
The Ras had certainly been a journey; I experienced some high's and some low's and sacrificed plenty to even make the start line. Was it worth the sacrifice? I will tell you when I get my exam results!