Up the finishing straight, I see Piccalo ahead of me, the wind kicks up hard. Piccalo is a little dude and I watch as he is blown from the right side of the road to the left, and I put my head down and grind past him. One to go. I go by the pits and hear, Rick yell "come on home Marc, come get warm!" I just keep thinking kept moving forward, drive. The course was in awful shape, tape broken, step stakes everywhere, and all the time, the wind and the snow pelted the riders. I knew these were perfect conditions for me. I focused on being smooth and driving forward. Not until the final time heading up the final road section did I look back. No one was there. I drove up the hill to the finish.