Peter’s Chequamegon 40 Race Recap

by Peter Olejniczak

The Start

The start faces you looking up the Birkie trail, reverse, just off Wheeler road. Normally this is the final rollers of the Birkie, but now it’s a leg buster of a start. Just like any race, you either line up 20 min early for the sake of a good position and risk getting “cold,” or you keep warming up and risk a good start position. I typically err on the side of a good position, so I lined up as soon as possible. Doing a lot of cyclocross races, where a quick clip in and full out sprint is the way to start, I was feeling well prepared. The daunting risk of starting out full gas, is you pay the price only a few minutes later as your HR catches up with you.

Last year I went out really hard, getting the holeshot. In cycling, a "holeshot" refers to a rider gaining an early lead at the start of a race. It's a strategic advantage that can set the tone for the entire race and guarantee good position amongst the group. A lot of times a great start permeates into a great race. However, in the 2023 edition, it was counterproductive because it led to early fatigue… all the riders I had a better start than, just ended up eventually catching me as they had a well managed effort.

Returning to this year, I told myself a “strong start, that maintains positions but not overextends my effort, was the key. The start gun fires, and everyone frantically clips in. I found myself clipped in immediately and as if on autopilot, I went full gas. The other riders must've started slower because soon enough, I found myself cresting the first hill as one of the first riders. I was immediately nervous about paying the price of 2023, but I quickly set my intention to be calm, cool and collected and really manage my effort as the group scrambled over the first few miles of rollers. I never completely paid the price, but then the next classic battle started. Settling into the group you very likely were going to share the race with. Just like the Birkie! A fast power line to make the selection, and then settling into your destined group for the race.

The first 5 miles

The field was single file, fighting for the single track line that exists over the Birkie Trail. Gaps start to open as people reach their limit of a fast start. I closed all the gaps I could, trying to keep “biting the tail” of the group. Eventually, the sensation of RED LINING haunts you and you wonder how long you are going to have to keep doing it. I remember thinking, “by the time I close this gap, I am going to get dropped because I’m too tired to hold the pace.” There were other racers around me experiencing the same. I weirdly found solace in the shared effort. You work together with the fallacy you may stick with the front group. But slowly, the reality that this was your fate sets in.

Mile 5 - 20

I ended up settling into a group of about a dozen. Friends Josh Bauer, Tim Savre, and other familiar faces like Teague Jackson were there. My goal was to keep the group rotating. In a paceline, just like a team time trial. Doing so would result in a calculated, consistent, and faster pace than a random assortment of pulls and lulls. It worked well for the most part as we navigated off the Birkie trail on the gravel roads. The one single track section was tacky! I was so glad I pressured my tires down to 15 psi. They were Velcro! As a number of riders kept the pace up on the other gravel road sections, it was clear some guys were starting to fade. It was time to mix it up and try and break the group

FIRETOWER

The infamous Firetower climb historically is closer to mile 30 of the race. Yet this year, it was closer to 20. The miles were trickling away from me this race and it wasn't until about mile 19, I gasped in realization where we were. I turned to Josh Bauer, “Dude! Are we about to hit Firetower?” He shouted back “Yea! In a mile or so.” I needed to prepare. I did my best to recover in the draft as best as I could, craning my neck to see when the turn for the base of the Firetower would be. Soon enough I saw some signage and immediately shot up the gutter to the inside of the turn to be top 3 wheels into the base.  Firetower is a 3 or 4 step climb that covers almost 200 ft in less than half a mile. It's granny gear and a full gas effort just to keep going. Not only is it hard physically, but it's technical; sometimes only 1 good line to the top.  This is where I hoped the Good Leg gods blessed me and I could break the group up. The 1st and 2nd wheel ahead of me had great efforts, taking good lines. Finishing the 1st rise, I realized I was going good. I switched sides to pass the 2nd wheel, bridging up to the 1st wheel. The second step I dove to the rockier side of the trial, setting my weight on my rear tire to pass the 1st wheel. We would race the 3rd phase of the climb breaking away from the rest of the group.

After Firetower

Over and down the backside of Firetower, I had a slight gap on the other rider, Theo. Theo eventually linked up with me with no one else in sight behind him. I enthusiastically said “Ready to leave those guys and bring it home?!” It was from there we would take turns driving through the ATV trail, Birkie trail, service roads, and fire road. There was one time I could see a cluster of chasers behind us, but we would just turn up the pace.  I felt strong and motivated and was more than happy to take long pulls. In hindsight, I maybe could have deliberately shared the workload a bit better. Theo was a great riding partner and mitigated his effort really well. Kept power on up and over the climbs. Steady and under control in the downhills.  I had been eating and drinking well throughout the race, but similar to my experience cross country skiing, the 5 minutes after consuming a gel always felt a bit weird. I have had a history of “colic distress” at this race, so that crept in the back of my mind haha.

The Last 5 Miles

Theo and I rolled across power lines and onto the final twisty stretch of trail. Theo led through the narrow closing trail, passing and encouraging riders still finishing from earlier waves. There weren't clean or clear places to trade pulls however. I recognized this as a risk, because it likely meant I would find myself in turn to take a pull once the final stretch opens up. I’m good in a sprint, but I never want to be the one on the front leading it out. Taking wind.

The Finish

With ¾ of a mile to go, we rejoined the Birkie trail with a straight shot into the Birkie Trailhead. I tried to keep the pace up, but not overextending in anticipation of the sprint. I’ve learned that when you find yourself on the front going into a sprint, you don't want to inadvertently lead out the rider behind you. You wait for them to start their sprint and pull out from behind you, out of the draft, and then you go alongside them. I’m not sure I did this perfectly, but I tried to be patient. Sometimes a race like that, similar to a road race, the sprint isn’t like a crit. It's sometimes more, “who’s got it in their legs” and it's more physical than tactical. I kind of hoped that may be the case, but knew Theo was strong. Sure enough, by the time Theo and I launched we were neck and neck and both of us I think got confused on which line was actually the finish. For not cramping all day, I of course had my quad lock up mid sprint and I just could turn over the final few pedal strokes as I wanted. My gear ratio was a 36 x 10 as my stiffest, but definitely would go to a 38t the next time I need a new chainring.

All in all I was really happy with the day. If you make a checklist of a “Complete Race,” I think I hit all the boxes

√ Warmup

√ No Mechanicals

√ Nutrition & Hydration

√ Start Execution

√ Mitigation of Effort

√ Race Tactics