Open Pro: BC SuperWeek–One to Remember

Editor’s note: Jordan Cheyne’s “The Open Pro” series details his experiences with high-level Zwift training as a rider in the pro Continental ranks. You can read his past posts here.

What do I really want to get out of this? That is a question I ask myself a lot in respect to my cycling career. For more than a few tough years when I was an amateur trying to figure this sport out the answer was simple: “To be a pro.” Once that dream became a reality there was another simple directive: “Get that second contract, don’t waste this chance.” After that things get more complicated. For me its been a good problem to have. I’ve been part of some amazing races and this year I’ve had the privilege captaining Elevate-KHS on the way to some spectacular wins. There have been great rides, great teams, and proud personal results but there is always that question. What do I want? What sort of things would make all of this a feel like a success when I eventually leave it behind?

I think I came across a good answer recently talking to my wife Emily after a disappointing race. I was being my usual pessimistic self, downgrading my accomplishments and embellishing my shortcomings. It sometimes feels like you are only just doing your job and that your performances, even the good ones, are expected and nothing to get excited about. I eventually came to my answer: “I just want some days that are mine, I want some that I will really remember.” The Tour of White Rock was one of those days.

BC Superweek

I joined a stacked squad at BC Superweek complete with a murderer’s row of sprint talent and all-around strength. It was a perfect team, except maybe for me, to compete in 10 days of blistering crit racing bookended by challenging road races. We started well with a solid team race and a gritty sprint victory for Sam Bassetti in the Whitespot Delta Road Race.

The next race at the New West Grand Prix was certainly memorable but for the wrong reasons. I faltered on the hilly, rain-soaked course and was of no help as Sam finished in second place. That one stung. I know I have to be my best and my sharpest to be a good teammate in such a high-powered crit squad and I wasn’t there. My legs just weren’t up to the task and I wondered what I could offer for the rest of the week.

Things turned around, at least for me, at the Thursday Giro di Burnaby and Friday Poco crits. I managed to be effective on a course with a 180-degree turn and even in an 8-corner night race under the lights. Sam pulled off podium results both nights and although we weren’t winning, our execution was pretty good. Personally, I managed to raise my game and get back to the front where I could be useful covering attacks and starting off the lead out.

But there was one thing getting me through the week mentally: my own shot at the Tour de White Rock on the final Sunday.

White Rock

I raced White Rock for the first time in 2017 and it was stunningly hard. I was solo and felt I had something to prove after some turbulent times with Jelly Belly. I raced the crap out of it and it punched me right back. The numbers (134km, 2600m of climbing, a million turns) don’t do it justice. With two short and steep climbs per lap over 17 laps, the recovery period never arrives and you end up racing flat out for over 3 hours. I finished 4^th that year with not a drop of fuel left in my tank and was happy with that.

This year with a full team and a more pragmatic tactical approach I hoped for better.

The boys were understandably pretty tired on race morning. Trying to sprint for the win every night takes a much higher toll than just doing the team job and pulling off with a lap to go. Plus I had skipped a couple races trying to maintain a modicum of freshness for a big push in White Rock. I knew that no matter how tired they were they would have my back and I could be a little more conservative in my approach than when I was racing solo two years earlier. The boys covered the early moves and I mostly waited for the right time.

Only an hour in, the moment came. Several strong riders were scattered up the road around 20s ahead and looked like they would form a cohesive group as the field let up. I attacked at the bottom of the steeper of the course’s two climbs and fought my way across. It was a hectic few kilometers but when the dust settled we were 8 riders with most of the major teams represented and a 30s gap. There were still almost 90km to go but knowing how hard it is to chase on a course like White Rock I committed and did my turns on the front. The gap quickly went out to 2 minutes and stayed there for the next 8 or so laps.

Usually with a strong team like ours having one rider out of eight isn’t the tactical advantage we want but I could feel I was the strongest in the group on each climb. I tried to push the pace a little bit every time the road went up to grind away at my break mates without blowing the group apart too early. With 40km to go everyone was still working and I started to think about my first attack to try to thin out the group.

It turns out I didn’t need to think too much about that because the powerhouse German in the group, Christopher Hatz, attacked first. I followed and in the blink of an eye the group was down to just three and no one was coming back. I spent the next 10km repeating the same words over and over in my head: “Podium is not enough, today it’s you.”

We forged onto the punishing finishing 4km circuits and sooner than expected I saw my chance. I raised the pace on the steepest section of the climb and looked back to see a 5m gap. That was all I needed. I drilled it over the top and through the finish with 5 laps to go, still seeing the German locomotive steadily keeping pace 100m behind. We got to the climb again, I hit it as hard as I could and I was truly on my own. Ten seconds became thirty and that became a minute. I had the surreal experience of being able to soak up the win well before the finish with time on my side. It was done, today it was me.

One to Remember

There were hundreds and hundreds of people cheering me to the finish. There was my wife and my mom at the finish (it was her birthday too). There was a massive trophy with thirty-nine other names on it including Chris Horner, Svein Tuft, and Zach Bell. There was my team who set up the race for me and who I finally gave a bit back to after they raked in prize money all week. There was no one in sight behind me when I punched the air coming to the line.

That’s the picture I will hold onto. It felt like a big deal and maybe it actually was. Here’s hoping I can remember a few more days like the 2019 Tour of White Rock by the time I hang up my wheels.