Salem-
"Fifty dollahs for the winnah of the next lap!” the announcer bellows into his microphone. Tires whirr as scores of men fly past, snugly crouched over their road bikes like jockeys at a horse race.It’s a cool Wednesday night at the Salem Witches Cup and the crowd, made up of about 300 spectators, is standing at rapt attention, spread out along the iron fence that surrounds the Common. The streets circling the Common have been patched and preened, converted into a criterium racetrack.
Bales of hay pad the most dangerous corners, a North Shore ambulance stands by and two tents filled with a tangle of wheels and assorted bike parts mark “The Pit,” a bicycle emergency room where mechanics linger, ready to service flat tires.
The Witches Cup criterium race has a sizeable history with the Salem Common. It ran for 15 years beginning in the mid-1980s, ending in 2000 due to lack of sponsorship. Criterium races are defined by a short course and a duration of 45 minutes to an hour. They take often take place on city streets, and riders must be adept at maneuvering around tight corners and riding with a group at speeds of up to 45 mph.
This year’s Witches Cup is organized by Salem Cycle and Comprehensive Racing, a cycling team based in Massachusetts and southern New Hampshire.
Wednesday night draws about 200 cyclists from as near as the North Shore and as far as Texas and Quebec. Among the riders is world-renowned Canadian cyclist Lyne Bessette. A cyclo-cross champion and two-time member of the Canadian Olympic Team, Bessette will soon be relocating to Beverly.
And they’re off…
Tonight’s cyclists are divided into three categories, Amateur Men, Open Women (all levels) and Professional Men. A combination of bike products, cash prizes and gift certificates will be awarded to the winners.
The mood at the starting line for the professional men racers is surprisingly low-key. Two men dressed in neon yellow and black spandex joke, sprawling across their handlebars. Another stifles a yawn.
Though the pre-race mood is light and friendly, once the announcer counts down to takeoff, the course becomes intensely competitive. Racers cling tightly together in a pack, or field, which speeds around the track dizzily, dropping the handful of bicyclists who lose speed. Once a bicyclist is dropped from the field, it is very difficult to catch up, as centrifugal force keeps the pack sealed inside its own vacuum of speed.
Along the sidelines, perspiring racers perch on their bikes, some sitting idly with their eyes fixed on the track. Others pedal in place, their bikes attached to a training mechanism that allows them to warm up before the race.
Tom Evers, 49, a cyclist from Melrose who just finished the amateur race, says after gliding along with the pack at a speed of about 24 miles an hour, he finally lost his momentum and had to drop off. “I was hoping to hang in the pack longer to work on my speed,” he says.
Having always dreamed of bike racing as a teenager, Evers says he just found his way into the sport three years ago after 30 years of playing hockey.
“I should go back to playing hockey,” he jokes. “They’re not as competitive. At least they let you sit on the bench!”
On and off the bike
Susan Maclean, 48, from Plaistow, N.H., says she started out volunteering at the Witches Cup sidelines 10 years ago, and got hooked on racing soon afterward. Today she came across the finish line just outside the first 10 riders.
“I do it for fitness and because the girls are a good group of people,” she says. “They’ve been around a long time and there’s friendly competition.”
The blond, pony-tailed cyclist points out a spattering of tiny white scars on her elbows and knees from years of road racing. “When you get older it’s harder to do the hills….” she says. “I do criterium racing because you’re in, you’re out. It is pretty intense out there.”
In watching Maclean smile and talk with fellow female riders, the sense of camaraderie is obvious. Female cyclists are the minority in this sport, and at the Witches Cup the women’s category is the only one with mixed-level riders.
Samantha Newman, a 36-year-old cyclist from Raymond, N.H. admits to doing background checks on unfamiliar racers before coming to the track.
“I check their stats (statistics),” she says. “I look online and see how they did in the last race they were in so I know who to watch.”
On the other hand, Newman, points out, women often will team up with each other to help improve their performance, riding a short distance ahead to block the strong wind that the pack stirs up. They will often trail a more professional rider to study their techniques.
Lyne Bessette, a professional road racer for 12 years, who retired last year from the international road-racing scene, is no stranger to this “mother duck” phenomenon.
After coming in first place at the Open Women’s race Wednesday, she says she saw the Salem Witches Cup as a chance to have fun, and help boost the skills of her fellow cyclists.
“The girls they look up to you,” she says. “They know you’re strong and they can learn from you. If I can help other women got to the top I want to bring them there.”