Rás Tailteann stage 5- Joe - Nathan

Stage 5 of the Ras is always a funny one, after 4 days of hard racing, bodies are tired and the prospect of it being the last stage is a welcome feeling, but bittersweet. By that point of the race, I’d grown into the race day by day, enjoying each aspect more and more and falling into the routine. It can be overwhelming at first, but that feeling of being absolved by the race is hard to find anywhere else. There’s not many other instances in our years where we open ourselves up to 5 days of straight chaos, unpredictability and that flurry of emotions that is bike racing. 

My run-up to the race had been affected by many varying factors. My previous season ended prematurely, filled with crashes and a burnout. Once I had the courage to get back on the bike, I was met with a recurring knee issue. It was only until the start of March that I returned to proper training, after a 6 month break, filled with failed attempts to get back into it. 

Finally returning to training was a relief. Biking and sports in general plays a vital role in who I am. My move to Ireland coincided with my decision to get into cycling proper and to not spend my winter on the cold and wet roads of Wicklow was an unfamiliar feeling (although I did appreciate not waiting in the shower for blood to flow back into my toes) . My comeback was motivated by the Ras, particularly as it passed by my training roads. It was a goal I had set out, not to go for any particular results, but just to race. It was a race I had loved from my first time around two years ago, and one I was itching to get back into. And after 4 tough stages, I was only 142km away from completing my second one. 

Once the stage started, one thing became apparent, it was going to be a tough and fast one. The yellow jersey was still to play for, and Wheelbase were throwing the kitchen sink at it to try and get a move going. Breaks would go left and right, riders barged their way through gaps to get up the road and by the end of the first hour we’d have averaged over 50km/h. 

As a team, we’d always ensure we had a rider near the front, covering the moves, chasing or joining anything that seemed dangerous, rotating whenever someone needed a rest. My turn came and as I followed moves, I looked back and there’s a split. The peloton was cut into two pieces, what went from a 5 man break quickly became a group of 40, frantically looking around trying to see where the rest of the bunch was.

In that chaos, riders looked for their teammates, wondering whether to wait to go. I was the only Orwell rider at the front at that moment, meaning I had to keep an eye on every move I could. . The pace was explosive coming into the first Cat 3 of the day, and on the descent a break eventually got up the road. Luckily, APS were happy to keep the gap somewhat under control, and the peloton finally reunited, I got to see the familiar sight of an Orwell jersey and relaxed. Whilst the front was attacking itself, Orwell had put on the jets in the group behind to close that gap. The rest of the stage quickly became a waiting game until we reached the circuits, pulled along by the riders at the front chasing the break. 

As we approached the circuit, elbows flared out and the fight for positioning commenced, the circuit was defined by a very narrow and bumpy section of road, where moving up would be difficult. The team entered in a pretty solid position, and once we got through that section of road, we were greeted by a roaring crowd in Dunboyne, filled with familiar faces and names, it’s hard not to get chills at the first passage of the finish line. 5 days of racing, through rain and heat, through seemingly never-ending dinners trying to fit it all in and penguin-walking around towns, the cheers of a home crowd always lightens the load.

I had picked up a second wind going through the finish line, moving myself up towards the front for the upcoming narrow sector, but unfortunately, the seemingly never-ending dinners caught up, and the gut wasn’t happy about being forced carbs upon carbs, and I quickly found myself falling back as we progressed through the sector. In the meantime, Sean, who was part of our leadout train, picked up a double mechanic and found himself chasing through the cars for 30mins. Once we exited the sector, I found myself in the convoy, and attempted to chase back on with Sean when unfortunately a crash held us up the convoy, and made a return to the bunch nearly impossible for me and Sean. Whilst we rode in to finish our Ras in a bittersweet but relaxed fashion, the front of the race was heating up, as leadout trains got ready to give it one last go. 

Once I crossed the finish line, it’s hard to remember which hit first, the feeling of relief, having all 5 riders make it and another Ras on the belt, or the feeling that there was more on the table, individually and as a team. The crash-marred stage 1 left us with a lot of what if’s, and many instances during the stages had us wondering what could’ve been. As competitors, it’s only natural to feel that way, but ultimately, taking a step back and putting it all into perspective is a must, and there was no better way of doing that than meeting up at a pub, and looking back at  all the stories of this 71st Ras Tailteann. As a team, we can be proud of what we did, and the flashes we’d shown of what we can do, even with all the mishaps, which left us all feeling motivated and ambitious for next year.