"Did you warm-up??", says Dirty D
"Nope, this is my warm-up", says me.
yada yada, blah, grunt.
We're heading down a dusty fire road, nearly bizalls-out, and this start feels more like a XC race
than a 4-hour marathon.
I drive into
X-Bar ranch the day before with
XL Cheese and
Da Jeezus. "Hey, it's 3:30...isn't this the hottest time of the day in the desert? Let's go ride!" So we do our pre-ride in 100 degree weather. We were going to do the 12 mile loop, but fudge that, it's hot, so we do the 9 mile loop. I go through both my water bottles.
Get back to the Hammerhead camp, and we pretty much got the sweetest setup on-site.
Diamond Dave brought his rockstar trailer and the Champ brought his trailer too. Plus we're next to the pool, and right by the start of the singletrack. Life is good.
Wake-up call next morning is 6:30 for a light breakfast. Man, this race needs to get started right now while it's still cool out.
I think I'll warm up with the 800 meter ride to the start line. Oh well, here goes nothing. I still have a mathematical chance of winning the series, but I think I'll just be happy if my form doesn't resemble burnt toast today. That and I hope I can beat Mr. and Mrs. Smith, cuz the whole household showed up today. I hope the esper training plan (ride 3x a week, party a lot, go for jogs down Amherst in street clothes just before sunrise) have worked.
So I tell Dirty D, "let's close this gap", cuz if i'm going to be sucking dust, I might as well be catching a draft. I go a little harder, and then look back and see I've slightly gapped the Barton boy. I guess he was the smart one, as was everyone behind me. I'm like, "screw this", so I let up a little.
Meanwhile up front,
Diamond Dave is leading out Mr. Smith, P-Noel, The Soap Opera, Da Jeezus, Thong Song, M.F., among others. I settle into about 7th or 8th and turn it off. Things are going smooth for me once we hit the singletrack, considering how rocky it was.
About a mile into the race, my crank locks up, and makes this horrible noise. My chain has somehow lodged itself between the chain rings and the derailleur some how. I pull over, and see the front derailleur has spun around the seattube, slidden up, and the cage is completely bent. I hear joel, say "fix it" as the entire field starts to pass me. I relax and spare everyone the temper tantrums. Pull out the multi tool and do my best eye-balling job, trying to line up the derailleur.
I'm finally ready to get back on, and I swear, it's like a friggin hobo trying to jump a boxcar. I finally see a small gap, jump on, wrestle my pedals, and apologize profusely to the guy I cut off. Then I figure out my chain won't shift to the big ring, oh well, i guess we're middle-ringing it today, maybe i'll save the legs a bit.
After about a quarter-mile down the trail, I see diamond dave carrying his bike. "I broke my derailleur."
"I did too!" MTB racing can be cruel.
Meanwhile, up at the front of the pack, it's an episode of a the Young and the Restless.
Pedalmasher and
The Champ are exchanging words, fighting over who can pass and who can't.
Friggin Quinn Tana is riding behind them and says, "You guys cut that shit out. If i go down, I'm gonna be pissed."
I spend the remainder of the 1st lap racing sport. I had forgotten how much nicer it was racing expert. We never used to pace ourselves evenly, and never let anyone pass very easily either. It's nice to see things hasn't changed much.
I finish my 1st lap and get my bottles from Noel's better-half, thank you! I ask how far behind I am, and she says 4-5 minutes. I know that if I can eek out a 3rd place today, I still have an outside shot of winning the series, if both diamond dave and da jeezus don't have good finishes. dave is already on the sidelines, and he's turned into a mathemetician. It's a long race so I figure I'll keep pushing, a lot can happen on that 3rd lap.
I catch arumi right before the long downhill and we work together for a while with some other guy. Before too long, AA winds up not being able to keep up, and I just pray I'm not going too hard for my own good.
We get back into the single track, I see that no-paydirt-doing Barton boy with his shirt off. The
Eldoradoan's had a flat and all his tools are in his camel back which he had under his jersey. It didn't slow him down too much, cuz a couple of miles down the trail he catches me and passes me like nothing.
I figure if I get back and Mrs. Reuter tells me i've lost time, I get to quit. That's right I "get" to quit. Cuz i'm tired, i won't gain anything in standings, and it just got hot, 1st 2 laps were nice, but now it's hot.
So I start getting back, and I see Da Jeezus has just started his 3rd lap, which means i'm about 2 mins back from him. I come through my feed pretty energized and head out with a little more zeal. I catch thong song, have a brief chat, and soon go around him. I still got that hope in the back of my mind, that maybe enough ppl will start to crumble in front of me, and I can pull off a miracle. I cross the dusty valley and start climbing, and I see Da Jeezus up ahead. I finally catch him, and I'll give you his version of the conversation, cuz it's funnier, even if i disagree w/what was said.
Me: "How ya doing?"
Him: "Not good, I'm cramp--"
Me: "WHATEVER! WHAT PLACE ARE YOU IN?????"
Him: "6th or 7th"
Me: "PEACE OUT MOFO!!!"
Anyway, I keep climbing and maybe his version is right, and karma is being a bizatch to me, cuz I can feel my own cramping wanting to start. I soft-pedal and I'm able to ward it off for a while. Only for a while though. Several minutes letter, I get off and start walking, before they get debilitating, and i'm chilling out under a tree. I'm not walking much slower than I was riding uphill, so I figure, "what the hell, maybe everyone in front of me is walking too." After a minute of walking the legs feel better, and I start riding again.
Soon thereafter, I pass an M2, only to be passed back by him, and never see him again. As he comes up behind me, my chain and derailleur, which has been making grinding metal noises for 3.5 hours, suddenly gets worse and starts sounding like cats doing the nasty. M2 asks, "what the hell is that?". Me, "My derailleur sucks." The top part of the cage has broken, and it's just rattling around all stuck under the chain. I get off, and break off the mofo, just leaving the inside plate. I get back on and start pedalling. Awesome! I fixed the noise!!!
Sergio 1
Front Derailleur 1
So anyway, I keep warding off cramps, standing up out of the saddle seems to help. Soon enough, I'm close to getting off the double track and turn back into the wind on the final double track section, when I see Papa Noel. Once again, I get a little energized, and keep the hope alive. I catch him, and once again start my interrogation. "How far back are we??".
Noel: "Way behind the leaders."
Me: "Dammit. Mind if i get by?"
We exchange pleasantries and the requisite good lucks, and I try to keep pushing.
I get to the final water station, and see another M3, who lets me go into the single track first since he got some water, and is just clipping in. I think to myself, "I'm low on water, maybe I should stop. NAAAHHHHHH!". I ask j. what place we're in, and he says, "top 5." rock on! he could be wrong, but how can it be so wrong when it sounds so good? I try to keep riding hard, hopefully still making ground, but john stays with me. and i'm really starting to hurt. i passed him, and he stayed with me, so i start having doubts about whether or not I'm fast enough to pass any more ppl.
And then he says, "someone's coming up behind us." Well's that just effing great, it's just what I needed! And to top it off, it's effing Arumi, big hair and all. Guy recovered, and stomped thru the remainder of the race. I had to hand it to him, and said "good job" as he passed. But dammit, not only was I not gonna pass anymore ppl, now I had to race again! After 4 hours of this crap, I wanted to friggin cruise into the finish. But noooooooo, some ppl just have to keep racing!! So here we are, ranch house in sight (nevermind that it was just a tease, and you were still no where near the finish!) and we're all within seconds of one another.
And by this point, my riding skilz are in the crapper. I hammer out of the saddle to put some distance on John, and hopefully make some ground on Arumi, but then every single ledge i screw up. Hammer out of the saddle, screw up rocky climb. Rinse, then repeat.
By this time, not having stopped for water has caught up with me and I've been riding without water for 15 minutes. I have never thought this before during a race, but I start thinking, "I feel horrible, I want to stop, I hate this. WHAT IF I DIE? Oh man, I don't feel good, it's hella-hot out here. I'm thirsty, i'm out of food. My head is killing me, oh man, heat stroke here I come. Shit, what if I really get a heat stroke and collapse in the next 5 minutes?! Dammit, john's
still behind me!"
I actually make one of the climbs and see AA straddling his bike, legs tensed, but managing to get back on. He was actually cramping is what he said afterwards.
Eventually, I start making my way towards the finish and see the final little bend out of the single track. I've made it to the finish, and I can't speak. I literally have such little energy, I'm whispering to Dave, who tells me I got 6th (later find out it was actually 7th).
I go to our camp and I feel as bad as I ever have after a race. You know, it's the end of the race, I'm supposed to start feeling better, it's not happening. I can hardly drink this bottle of water. After about 10 mins of laying down I start feeling slightly better, but still sick to my stomach. The Jeezus comes in looking pretty bad. Noel comes in after that, looking horrible as well.
I start talking to muy grande queso, and he says he broke his derailleur too. Got to the feed zone and asked diamond, "gimme your rear derailler". Dave just gave him a
blank stare. Eventually, ppl start helping him, but keep within the rules by not touching him nor his bike. Val starts throwing parts at him. Lost about 10 minutes but still had a really great finishing time considering that. It's too bad, cuz it cost him a top-ten in the pro/open series.
Find out CC is now The Champ. Congrats Charles!!!
I kid w/
Primal-Quest-bound Mrs. Reuter that she was killing me w/those time splits that just egg'd me on to keep going and not quit, cuz I definitely wanted to stop. But it's a good thing she did, cuz Mr. Smith woulda leapfrogged me in the series standings into 3rd. He pummelled us today and wound up in 2nd place, w/that Barton Boy a few minutes back in 3rd.
Later on, as we're sitting waiting for awards, I tell Noel about how I fell 3 times, in the exact same spot. Then his daughter makes fun of me. "You fell every lap in the same spot??" Judge Judy comes up to us, and perhaps feeling sorry for me, pats me on the back and says good job you all. The Jesus then explains that today was an experiment by TMBRA, gone horribly wrong. Marathon. Desert. May. Friggin Wolverine wound up with a IV in his arm. Even the rattlesnakes thought it was too hot. About the only thing out there was us and 2 locusts. Either way, it was a great race, great organization, and a great spring series. It was a lot of fun.
On the way home we stop in Fredricksburg at one of the German pubs and have a pitcher of Warsteiner and some burgers. The Champ, Val, and RRRicharrrd then walk in. Rrrichard ask us what we're drinking, and responds , "Varsteiner? it's crrrap!" as they order their rib eyes.
