Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Rumble at 18 Road

A day of firsts.  First race of the year.  First race in Colorado.  First time riding in Fruita (another gem of mountain biking).  First podium.

Fruita is an amazing place to ride.  A mix of Moab-like slick-rock and some of the best flowing singletrack I've been on.  I was nervous when getting there.  My bike setup had changed dramatically.  I had broken my crankset earlier in the week, forcing me to use a different one, and running a higher gear than I normally would.  Also, I just put the rigid carbon fork back on, after reading reviews that described the trails as mostly buff, not technical, and fast.  I have a lot of experience with the full-rigid setup, but hadn't been on it in about 8 months.  So going into the race, I was still a bit unsure of how hard I could push it.  My biggest question mark though, by far, was the level of competition in Colorado.  I figured I would either get smoked and eaten alive by these pain-loving freaks, or just get beat by them softly. 

I learned a lot from pre-riding the course the day before.  First was that my gear ratio was actually good for this course, if not a bit on the low side.  The course was really fast, starting out with about 2 miles of a dirt road climb, at a low grade, so just enough to spread out the pack before hitting the singletrack.  Once you hit the singletrack, it was FAST!  The first half-mile or so was like a roller coaster ride.  Then it began to climb again, but again at a low enough grade to keep the speed up.  All of the first half, or ~5 miles, of the course was going out towards the end of 18 Road, which abruptly ends at the Bookcliffs.  At that point, when you are most tired, comes a wicked 200-300 foot climb at a stupid hard grade.  Then you got about 2 miles of up-and-down, slightly technical, singletrack, heading away from the Bookcliffs, before hitting dirt road again.  The last 3 or so miles were dirt road back to the start/finish.  This is where my grumblings begin.  Over half of the 10-mile circuit is comprised of dirt road.  This, in Fruita, a place known for the unlimited and unbeatable singletrack it offers.  They could have designed a 40-mile race course comprised solely of singletrack, instead we get 5.  I understand the reasons they do this; to allow good passing opportunities, spread out the pack, give good variation to the race.  I just want more singletrack!! It is what it is.

So race day.  Nervous.  Excited.  Flustered.  I was still making adjustments to my bike 15 minutes prior to the start, shoving down coffee, liquids, and food, and in general was not very relaxed.  So it was no surprise that at the start I blew up quickly.  Climbing the first section of dirt road, pushing hard, heart rate jumping from a resting rate to ~190 bpm in minutes, I felt terrible.  At the same time, I was passing riders and setting a fast pace.  There I was after 2 miles of my first race in Colorado, in the single speed open category (which means anyone from Pros to your grandpa can enter) that traditionally brings some of the strongest riders out of the woodworks, in 2nd place before hitting the singletrack.  The first place rider, Jon Brown, was setting a pace that I didn't even want to consider.  Near the epic climb near mid-lap I had a rider on my tail.  When we both had to dismount (along with every other rider I saw) and push our bikes to the top, he was a bit stronger/not as winded, and passed me.  Next came a series of slightly technical descents and climbs, fast and furious, and he was able to gap me by ~20 seconds before hitting the smooth fast section of singletrack that lead out to the dirt road.  Once on the dirt road he was gapping me even more, as I was spun out at ~22mph, and he may have been running a higher gear.  So, I decided I would push and try to chase him down on the second lap, but more than anything wanted to hold onto my 3rd place.  Coming down near the start/finish, spinning out of control, I turned my head and noticed a guy right on my wheel.  Shit!  He had been sitting there for probably a mile, just letting me do all the work, and I hadn't even noticed. 
You can see him shadowing me, ready to pass.
At the start/finish he passed me, and I realized he was another singlespeeder.  Damn.  Now its a race!  So on the dirt road climb and singletrack back out to the Bookcliffs, I pushed hard.  I passed him quickly after start/finish, and by the time I reached the epic climb again he was maybe 30 seconds back.  But I knew that he was making all of his time up on me on the dirt road descent back to the finish.  The last 4 miles or so I was a furious spinning machine.  I kept peeking back, and kept noticing a rider catching me.  Damn he's not giving up is he?  So I pushed and pushed, legs spinning faster than I thought they could, ignoring all bodily functions and responses to pain and tire.  And then the dreaded moment came.  He was right on my tail again with about 1/2-mile to go.  When he passed me I looked down at his rear wheel, sure that it was the singlespeeder, and saw a glorious site, the intricate workings of cogs and pulleys and derailleurs and all those other things that generally make biking easier and more sane, and it was a huge moment of joy.  A rush came over me, and I coasted in to the finish ecstatic to be taking a 3rd place in my first race in Colorado, only my 5th race ever, in the Open Singlespeed class. 


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