The Women’s Woodstock Cycling Grand Prix began as a women’s only road race in the Woodstock area of upstate New York in 2013. Through the years, WWCGP has grown in production value, support, prizes, and overall hype attracting racers from all over the Northeast.

The last time the race was run, in pre-COVID 2019, it was a weekend long omnium format with a time trial, a circuit race, and the iconic road race featuring the brutal Meads Mountain Road—a two-mile climb averaging over 10% grade. Nearly 100 racers were in attendance. The 2022 edition brought the race back to its single-day roots, but we heard rumors the 2023 edition will bring back the 3 day event.

Despite it only being only a single day this year, the race organizers still pulled all the stops and the race felt as professionally run as any we’ve been to, including full neutral support, moto marshals for every field, a great start/finish stretch with elevated announcer booth, and a full racer village area with grilled food, drinks and even gelato for all the racers, volunteers, and fans. The prizes included custom pottery from a local potter. Everyone seemed hyped and having a great time.

We had a full MDC squad participate, including Dana, Diane, and Leah racing, while Emily and Lucia played supporting roles. Dana provides her eventful race report from the W123 field below, and Lucia captured the weekend vibes in the gallery below. All women’s license holders and friends should considering putting this event on their calendar for next year!

Race Report: Dana (P/1/2/3)

When I signed up for the P/1/2/3 field at Woodstock (my first time racing in an elite field), I thought I would have several long road races under my belt from collegiate racing in April. With some extra time to get into racing shape, I was excited to test myself in a strong field on a course known for one very long, very hard climb. Unfortunately, after successfully avoiding Covid-19 for the last 2+ years, it finally got me in mid-April, knocking me out of two out of three collegiate racing weekends in one go. So by the time I got to Woodstock, I had not only missed some important opportunities to build racing fitness, but also suffered the drop in cardiovascular fitness that tends to come along with symptomatic Covid. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to be able to handle, so I resolved to stick with the field, stay out of the wind, ride the climb around my 20-minute power, and hope for the best. My teammates and I also half-jokingly – and, it turns out, presciently – set some intermediate goals to finish the race and not get off our bikes on the climb.

The first hour of the race was a true warmup. Everyone in the field knew that the race would be won on the main climb, so while a few women tried to make moves, they were brought back without much of a sense of urgency before the chitchat resumed. I stayed near the front but out of the wind, focusing on conserving energy.

The race got very punchy very quickly when the 1k sign for the first QOM appeared. This first small climb caught me off guard—it’s quite short and looks tiny on the course profile next to the 1000-ft Mead Mountain that follows a few miles later, so I hadn’t thought about it at all. After a couple of hard 30-second punches just trying to stay with the field, I definitely felt the fitness deficit from being sick and missing out on training. I was relieved to get some flat road to recover before the long climb.

And… that’s effectively where my race ended. I felt the road get rough as the field pulled away, and looked down at my rear wheel to find it flat as a pancake. The nice folks in the support car very kindly got me a neutral wheel and gave me a short tow, but I was still about 2 minutes back by the time I got to the bottom of the climb.

The gearing on the neutral wheel (11-28) was not ideal for the 11% average grade on this 2-mile climb, so I crawled up the mountain at 60rpm just to keep the pedals turning over. I shifted my sights to a goal I’d jokingly set the day before: don’t get off your bike! I eventually caught up with the next couple of riders. I’d been debating turning off where the short and long courses split and calling it a day, but this bolstered my motivation to finish, even if I wasn’t in the hunt.

The low-cadence climb followed by a relentless chase and an imperfectly aligned derailleur eventually snapped my legs. I popped off the back around mile 40, at which point I really phoned it in and just tried to enjoy the scenery. By the time I turned right into the finishing chute, I’d decided to laugh off how badly my day had gone rather than being upset about it. I rolled over the line 15 minutes back from the leaders, my worst ever finish in a bike race, my first lanterne rouge, and hopefully my last. But hey, I finished, I didn’t get off my bike, and I had a great crew of teammates to laugh about it with at the finish line. So for all of that, and for a beautiful day to ride bikes upstate, I’m glad I made the trip.