I remember when the title of State Champion used to mean something.
As a junior, I remember looking up to the wearer of that OBRA State Champion jersey as a respected idol in the sport that I loved. I remember fighting through my training rides with that jersey in the back of my mind. And I remember when I first wore my own, thinking it was the most-prized possession I might ever lay my hands on. I remember it well. Lance Armstrong may have had all those yellow jerseys on his wall, but I had the blue star jersey of an OBRA champion.
This year, I signed my first professional contract. I moved away from my home here in Oregon to train and travel with my new team. But I'm convinced that I wouldn't be where I am today in this sport without growing up in a culture that placed so much importance on the title of State Champion. For a sport with no crowning achievements, no benchmarks to aim for, no matter how trivial they may seem in themselves, is really no sport at all.
We as a cycling community clearly place a lot of faith in this model on an international scale. To many of us, the title of National Champion is one of the greatest career highlights imaginable. But consider the scale. There are a tremendous amount of talented American cyclists competing for this title each year, many with a realistic chance at the title. This is why we see so much turnover of that Stars and Stripes jersey. Yet for many nations, there might be only as much competition for this title as we have right here in the state of Oregon. Or less. Thus, State Champion, to me, continues to hold significant weight in spite of the next level of achievement that many of my teammates and colleagues are now focused on each year.
For this reason, it deeply saddens me to see the fate of the OBRA State Championships races of late. Last year was the first time I can remember that the state of Oregon didn't even have a State Championship road race. When I first noticed that on the calendar, I assumed it was a scheduling oversight. After chatting with some promoters, I was dumbfounded to hear that the state championship title that I was raised to revere as one of the most pivotal benchmarks in this sport had seemingly become another of the sport's pariahs. Promoters were actually afraid to take on the title race, rather than fighting for the honor, simply because it had recently proved impossible to turn a profit on. Nobody signed up. We saw that truth reflected in this year's comeback at Silverton. Every single rider who finished the Senior Men's race finished in the top 10.
Thankfully, great people like Chuck Kenlan (our new OBRA president) and Matt Lasala continually step up to keep the tradition alive, assuming that their local successes in promotion and some new ideas can revive the glory of the State Championship race. Clearly, this is not the case. I came home to Oregon for the State Championship Criterium, to be held this Saturday in Bend -- not exactly a bad spot to visit in the summertime. As of this Tuesday (just four days before the race), I was the only one registered for the Senior Men's race. I noticed that the same fate was held in the Women's 1/2s. At this point, enough people have now registered to round out the podiums in each of these races. But only just barely. It's pitiful.
Clearly, we have reached a fundamental paradox in the sport of road cycling. When those of us who claim to be road racers no longer choose to make our State Championships a priority race on our calendars, the sport we lay claim to faces a grim future indeed.
I remember when the title of state champion used to mean something.
P.S. There's still time to register. And, yes, the forecast is perfect.
-Dillon Caldwell