The last time I entered a mountain bike race, it was the late 80's and I wasn't quite 30 years old yet. My bike was a lime green Diamondback Ascent EX with only one modification: the Schrader valve caps were matching lime green dice. Judging by this photo, I'm pretty sure it was also too small for me.
Although I wore bike shorts, gloves and a (bulbous) helmet, the rest of my kit consisted of a t-shirt and a pair of worn out Chuck Taylors.
I had absolutely no concept of what "training" really was and the two laps I did around the woods in Simsbury, CT that day on the not-very-technical two-track fire road were pure agony. I probably last rode that, or any, MTB somewhere around 1993.
Flash forward about 20 years...
I arrive on site and am directed to a ROCK STAR parking spot very close to the registration tents - oh, but I'm also right next to the porta-potties. Well, the location would certainly guarantee almost everyone would pass by my base of operations for one reason or another.
I got kitted up and set out to do a little pre-ride, it was now 8:40 which allowed plenty of time for my 9:30 start. I was amazed at how much value there was in that ride I took around the course the day before, I was rolling over stuff with a fair amount of certainty even given the fact that it was much wetter due to some early morning rain. Granted, I was't going full bore yet.
When I noticed the 2 mile marker, I decided I really didn't want to ride all the way back up the course and have a 4 mile warm up... where was that shortcut back to the start I heard about? I check the time: it's now 9:10 - CRAP! I guess I was poking along a lot more slowly than I realized. I picked up the pace, kept going and finally got to the shortcut back, at about 3.5 miles in. The shortcut was a double-track gravel/rock road that was NOT flat, resulting in more pre-race effort than I felt I could afford but I had to suck it up if I wanted to get back.
Once back to my car, I noticed that my headset was a little loose. That's what I get for a last minute component upgrade. Of course the first thing I do is make it too tight and I can't seem to get it to loosen up. Time's running out! I swallow my pride, look around and ask Mike Wissell for some quick help, which he graciously gave. I roll down to the start.
After a few minutes of wandering about among the scrum of cyclists, some order is introduced by Colin's bull-horn enhanced announcements. The Sport fields are lined up one-by-one and started as I found my place among the Novices in the back. All the while, I'm trying to decide whether or not I should burn a match on the section of paved road we have to climb before we actually see any dirt.
Colin decides the 40+ and 50+ Novices should start together, I line up 2nd row, and the next thing I know, I'm clipped in and stomping my way up the hill and passing almost everyone else. I knew this was not likely to last.
Left turn then right onto the dirt and suddenly I'm about to hit a little 2 foot hump across the course. There's a bunch of people there and it's obvious they are expecting a little show at this spot. I pick up the pace a little more and try to catch some air as I go over. I see a flash go off in the corner of my eye and holler, "I hope you got that!"
Benjamin Stephens did, in fact, snap a photo. I think he captured the look the remained on my face for most of the rest of the race.
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Even though everything is going by me so fast that most details are not registering in my consciousness, I do recognize certain features from the day before and do my best to take advantage of that knowledge. As soon as I process one of these rocks or roots or ramps, I'm onto the next thing.
Before long, I caught up to one of the 30+ novices, who started 30 seconds (?) before us, then another, then I caught a couple of 30+ Novices I KNEW. I tooled along on Joel's wheel for a while, passed him, then slammed my bike RIGHT INTO a tree.
Luckily, I saw it coming, was slowing and only lost enough time for Joel to pass me back. I stayed a bit behind him this time so I could take in the lines (silly roadie that I am, I tend to ride much too close on the MTB - which only leads to trouble). Sadly, it was about this time that I felt my headset start to rattle a bit. Damn. I wondered how long I could go before causing a) permanent damage to the bike b) DEATH.
All it took was one thought of my wife and daughter hunkered down at home, awaiting my return from battle for me to stop, fish out my multi-tool, and once again, tighten the headset.
Suddenly, we popped out of the forest onto some two-track gravel, the left turn guided by a row of Harpoon Summer beers. I declined the offer of one but took a cup of water and a piece of bacon that some guy passed me as he ran uphill alongside.
Soon after that, I passed Joel for good.
The next rider I came upon was Ed, one of the 40+ Novices. He and I would be race buddies for the rest of the loop. He definitely had more SKILLZ than me and was able to traverse much that I couldn't. But when there was a clear not-too-technical line, I could OUT-WATT him and get by. It also seemed that I could put a little more pace into those sections where we were both doing walk/run-a-bike.
Connecting with him was the best medicine for the rest of this race for me. He kept me pushing hard when he was ahead, kept me humble when I thought I was king of the world, and seemed grateful when I gasped out kudos when he cleared some difficult section.
The last third of the race was downright fun. Since all the super difficult sections were behind me and no one was chasing me down from behind, I was a lot less nervous about my bike handling. This let me loosen up and enjoy what passed for the "flowier" sections of the course. There were a few grinding little climbs to do and some micro-gnar to traverse, but the worst was behind me.
I rolled across the finish exhausted but somehow able to ride on back to my car to clean myself up and get ready for some picture taking.
After a few pickles and a beer, I realized I had absolutely no idea how well I did. I pedaled back up to the scoring tent and asked Christin for my time and for some reason, I didn't ask HOW I finished. I attribute this to Gnar Weasel Zombification. For quite a while, I wandered around, one minute feeling pretty good, the next completely out of it.
A little while later, the results were posted: I won!
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