One of the things I enjoy most about being on the bike is the experience of many types of weather while riding. When I awoke on Saturday morning to the sound of rain smashing the roof and thunder in the background, I questioned my willingness to venture out into it. Nevertheless we loaded up the car and began our drive to Harrison, AR. A region of the state I had yet to experience, and had also only heard amazing things. The rolling, mountainous terrain presented us with a spectacular vista as we crested and serpentine through the countryside. Upon arrival to the race site I had a time crunch to inscribe, kit up, and assemble the bike for the race. With few minutes to spare myself and the team spun around waiting for the call to line up for race start. A total of seven had registered for the field of 1/2/3s; I assume many others had a much drearier outlook on the weather, which by then was improved. Ourselves, the officials and the 3/4’s all consented to combine the fields. Through the first few kilometers a few accelerations took place but everyone in the field knew it would stay together until the two long climbs minced apart the bunch. Along the stretch we hit patches of rain falling on already saturated roads that helped make the higher speed sections much more interesting.

We sliced into Jasper and reached the first test of the day, Mount Sherman. There was no time wasted in the climbs assault on the field, as my brother, Wes, and Noah were helping to set the pace on the front, the lesser climbers fell quickly. With a small group of three floating at 20m from the main group I let the gap mature planning to make a swift movement to them when the time was right. We were coming around a corner that you could see a considerable increase in gradient, and hearing an increase in labored breathing among the group I made my quick shift up and left behind the rest. Wes was falling off as I joined up and the other rider would soon crack as Noah maintained his hasty ascent. Feeling relaxed and calm I moved onto the front to help in our distancing from our pursuers. Reaching the top I had puncture and Noah went ahead to save our position on the road, and I would try to close the gap on my own. I had just came into view of the motorbike as I saw Noah’s hand fly into the air signaling he too had mechanical issues of his own. Deciding that if we were to remain separated too much time would be lost I slowed my pace and waited for him.
The rain had failed to cease entirely by this point and we had the tricky descent into Ponca waiting just ahead. I let Noah take the lead as he knew at least a bit more about the road than I. We reached the bottom and were told of a time gap of 45 seconds, time to go! Driving onto the next climb I made it difficult for our chasers to continue to have hope in closing us down. After a few hundred meters up I glanced back, Noah was off and I made the decision to maintain my current pace and see what I could do alone after the top. Sections of the second climb were much more strenuous than the prior. After leveling out and hitting a few big rollers on top, the communicated gap was 1:30 to Noah and 4:45 to the chasing seven, really?  I had isolated myself and had no choice but to turn on the gas to fend off any chance of being caught. The weather had subsided; sunshine felt warm on my damp jersey and overpowered the wind I was tearing through in front of me. Another gap update from the official, 2min. to Noah, 6+ to the rest, my adrenaline soared, and my mind went to the state Cancellara’s must have in the Ronde, or Roubaix. A nice long descent and a few rollers and twists into the final K. This was my biggest time gap for victory ever, in my favorite fashion, and in any kind of weather.

-Wade Wolfenbarger