Saint George.
Probably my favorite of all of the
regular-name saints is Saint George. Saint Jim and Saint Bill would be cool if
they could offer mind-blowing mountain biking!
I should mention that my mind’s been blown so many times by places like
this that I'm surprised there’s still a fragment of tissue up there to excite. Something
tells me it’s a never-ending supply.
A few things may have contributed
to my feeling of absolute bliss upon arriving here. It all started out with a
planned drive through the night Thursday night to make it here on Friday
midday. I had to work Thursday night, and expected to be out of there and on
the road by 11-ish. Well, the last night of Stout Month did not disappoint. I
watched the 2 1/2 hour wait for the beer sloshing Boulderites to get their fix
continue up until 10pm, leaving me officially dismissed from duties about
midnight. Okay, 2 hrs past schedule; no biggie. Back home, shower, bikes loaded
on car, on the road at 1am. Here's where things got fun. The cruise started treacherously, as 93,
which heads south from Boulder down to I70, was still covered in snow from the
storms days ago. Still wondering which casino or pub the plowmen were hanging
out at for the last three days. So a 20 min drive takes me 40. Ok, I’m still doing
it. Hop on I70 and head west. Given the
awesome weather predictions for both the Front Range and where I was headed, I
didn't even think to check the weather in the mountains. So i was rudely
awakened by the falling snow and snow covered highway as I entered the
mountains, and it only got worse. I’d
normally be cruising along at 70-75 mph, but was held at a pretty consistent 40
through the mountains. During this time,
and maybe as a result of it and its induced stress, I started to get more tired
than I had predicted. I hadn’t planned to stop but was forced to lest I wanted
to ghost-ride my car off a cliff. Wonder what I would’ve been dreaming about; maybe
flying? A solid 3 hour nap was all I needed to get feeling fresh again. That
and another cup of coffee. Then, just as
I was exiting the high mountains, with clear air and a fresh perspective, I
noticed the temperature gauge on my Subaru rising. I had noticed this before when driving up
mountain passes, but this time it wasn’t coming back down right away. So I got to Grand Junction and checked the
coolant reservoir. There it was,
empty. Fill it up with water, and back
on the road. I thought I was golden for
about 2 hours, until the temp gauge started damning me again. So I stop again, look under the car, and
notice a few little dribbles of coolant on the ground. Shit!
This can’t be good. It could mean
a host of problems, beginning with a simple leaky hose, and truly ending with a
blown head gasket! I’m now about 3 hours
out from St. George, so decide it’s better to just push on and have it looked
at once I’m there. Luckily, my car made
it to St. George in once piece, and stayed cool the entire rest of the
way.
At this point true bliss really
set in. I rolled into town, surrounded
by red rock bluffs ala Sedona, and parked at the local bike shop. When I got out of the car, the tropical
feeling of dry heat and sunshine flooded my senses and made all worries go
away! I came here for a race, but in a
few short minutes it seemed like more of a vacation.
I went out to the race venue,
feeling sleepy again but with renewed inspiration. It turns out that the race course, as well as
a bunch of other amazing trails sit just on the edge of town. The course was a 7-mile loop consisting of a
couple doubletrack climbs and descents, some sweet flowing singletrack, and two
climbs up rock washes. A couple of the
doubletrack descents had some tech-y line choices, rock drops, and other
obstacles, and they were all SUPER fast.
Way faster than my current “been riding on dirt roads all winter” skill
level and comfort level were ready for.
But I knew that I better get used to it fast, because no one would be
holding back during the race. I did two
laps of the course, all the while trying to dial in certain line choices and
get comfortable actually mountain biking again!
The speed of the descents had me a little nervous for race day, but damn
it felt good to be riding like this again!
All in all, I thought the course was a great one. I especially liked the rock wash climbs,
which consisted of constant shale rock step-ups, some small, some large and
technically demanding. This was an area
that I could get out of the saddle and go into “singlespeed” mode.
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| First pre-ride of the course. |
On Friday night I chose to stay in a hotel as a
result of all the stress of getting there and wanting to feel refreshed in the
morning. It worked. Saturday morning was relaxing and
smooth. It made it easier that the
start time wasn’t until noon. I’m used
to 8 am start times that barely give you time to get up, get to the venue, and
get all of your stuff together. I am not
a 4 am riser! I was able to get another
pre-ride of the course in and be chilling in a camping chair by 9:30, just
enjoying the bright sunshine. Even with
all of my stress-relieving measures taken before the race, I was still a bit
tense and nervous in the minutes beforehand.
It turned out that there were 17 pros lined up in front. As the race director counted down all
thoughts went blank. BOOM! We were off in a blaze of furry. There was about a ¼-mile doubletrack,
slightly uphill, start for everyone to gain their positions before hitting the
singletrack. I was able to hold onto
about 5th position in this parade, without giving it maximum effort
for fear of my heart exploding, until shortly before the entrance to
singletrack, where about 4 or 5 guys put in a power shot and got by me. This was very smart on their part. Soon enough we would hit the rock-wash
climb. At this point I was riding a
couple of guys’ wheels, and was able to make my pass. During the ensuing climb I was able to get
past one or two more guys. Up ahead I
could see what looked like 5th or 6th positions, and they
also seemed to be struggling with the climbs.
When we got to the first descent two things happened. First, I realized how hard I was breathing
and how uncontrollable my heart rate was.
I didn’t feel good and my breathing didn’t slow the entire descent. Second, I realized how quickly these guys
could get away on the downhills! Now I
had even more work to do. As we hit the
second climb, I began reeling the two I had seen previously back in. There was one point where I debated putting
in a maximum surge, or just laying back and keeping my energy. I chose for option B as my heart rate was
still out of control and lungs on fire.
During the second descent that led back to the start/finish the racers
ahead put in a huge gap. I wouldn’t see
them again. I did though see the bright
green Topeak/Ergon kit of Jeff Kerkove coming on my tail shortly into the
second lap. At this point my heart rate
had calmed down and I was really starting to get into my groove. He had passed me for a minute or two, but I
attacked on one of the short punchy climbs, got by, and ensued to lengthen that
gap during the first rock-wash climb. I
was so stoked just to be racing beside Jeff, never even thinking that I could
be competitive with him. He is one of
the best endurance racers in the country, and has been racing mountain bikes
for a long time! It turned out that we
would be trading positions for the next couple of laps, which was fun. The cat-and-mouse was pretty interesting. Then it was all over. Flying down the last 300 meters of rocky
doubletrack at 30+ mph the rear end of my bike bounced up and came down
violently on a sharp rock; the rock penetrating the sidewall of my tire. Damn!!
That was about it. I rolled into
the start/finish and blasted a CO2 cartridge in there hoping that the Stan’s
sealant would close the puncture, but all I heard was “psssssssss….”
My initial reaction to this race
was that of satisfaction. I was not
worried about results coming into it. That being said, I definitely wish I could've finished. It
was a huge day of firsts for me; first race of the season, first Pro race,
first time racing a geared bike, and first time really railing a mountain bike
in months! I was pretty much an open slate, looking at it as a measuring stick
for my progress to date. First and
foremost, I was satisfied; no, I was electrified by how much fun the race
was! It was the first reminder in a long
time of why I do this and love the sport so much. I had fun riding my bike! I was then satisfied with my body’s ability
to put in that effort and adjust, and actually feel good. This was my first race since early
August. That’s 7 months without pushing
myself to these limits. I’m guessing that
most of these guys haven’t had that kind of layoff. Many of them were probably racing cross just
weeks ago. I guess some of the things
I’ve been doing in the offseason have actually worked. I felt stronger than last year already. I remember my first race last year, which
wasn’t until mid-April, and it was much more painful than this. I’m ecstatic to seemingly have decent fitness
this early on in the year. It was also a
great learning experience for areas of improvement; power and bike-handling come
to mind first. I never thought that
races could be won or lost (not that I was in that position) on the
downhills. But a few of the guys ahead
of me were able to put more of a gap on me on the descents then I could make
back up on the climbs. Hopefully as the
year progresses and I spend more time on real trails this area of my game will
improve. Overall, it was a great
learning experience, and great fun on some awesome trails. Who would’ve thought that in my first race of
the year, on March 2nd, that I would suffer sunburn! Gotta love Southern Utah.
Later on in the day, after a
couple hours of relaxation, I hooked up with a group of about 8 to ride the
adjacent trail system. The Shinobi was
brought out of its quiver as my weapon of choice. The loop we did, called the Zen trail, was
like some of the stuff I’ve ridden in Moab.
After climbing for about 30-40 minutes to the top of the mesa on
technical, rocky, and slickrock spiced trail, we came to an overlook that
seemed endless. From this point on it
was mostly a downhill shred-fest descending red dirt singletrack, rock-drops,
across big patches of slickrock, and down steep technical rock-faces. Pretty much everything you could ask for in a
good trail ride, and a perfect way to end the day.
Sunday was spent in the hot sun on
mountain bikes. Terrible isn’t it? I got shown around an awesome flowing
singletrack trail system courtesy of Jeff Kerkove and Karen Jarchow. I then ended the day with a ride on my own on
free-ride style trail. On the map it
shows just one single trail, about 5 miles long that you would do as an
out-and-back. In actuality there were
literally hundreds of trails, all with varying sizes of jumps, berms, hops, and rollers to pick from all
in an area of a couple square miles.
It’s basically a spaghetti ball of fun just west of town.
 |
| Photo courtesy of Jeff Kerkove |
 |
| Photo courtesy of Jeff Kerkove |
On Monday I spent the day up in
Hurricane, bordering Zion National Park, riding a big loop which ended with the
Hurricane Rim Trail. Epic views of the
canyon rim and singletrack for 7.5 miles was all it had to offer.
 |
| Hurrican Rim Trail. A lot further down than it looks. |
 |
| Rim Trail. Virgin River. |
There is too much good about St.
George for me to continue on in detail.
Let me just say this: any place with this high of quality of mountain
biking, and this much of it within close proximity, matched with great-quality
Mexican food, also in great abundance, should not be passed up. Every day of this journey has ended with a
big burrito on the cheap! No Don Pablos
here, esay!
 |
| Burritos galore! |
