If He Flatted Does It Still Count?

 

 

Let me get this out of the way right up front.  I got my first sport class first place this past weekend at the Georgia State Championship Series at the Dauset trails near Jackson Ga.  That being said I did get a gift of sorts as the rider, who was waaay off the front, flatted near the end of the second lap.  Yea I know, that's racing, but still, it does kind of taint the victory.

Team Higher Ground goes through their stretching routine before the start.

 

Anyhoo, at least it didn't rain.  Trail conditions were perfect and I managed to clean all the climbs in Saturday's practice lap.  The trail was shorter and easier than last year (thanks Dave) plus it was at least 10 degrees cooler.  Somehow I managed to lose my tube, inflator, and multi tool, not a good sign.

 

 

We had dinner at Olive Garden that night, followed by some kind of caffeine laced chocolate drink from Starbucks for dessert.  I was concerned about getting out in front at the start due to the couple of climbs near the beginning of the race.  That combined with the above mentioned drink made getting to sleep a little more difficult than normal. 

 

Race Day

 

The whistle blows, we go.  I managed to get to the single track in second, first place did bobble on the first rock section I was worried about but he was already so far ahead of me that it didn't make any difference.  The rest of us formed the usual Conga line.  I couldn't put much space on them so when we got to the second little rock climb they were right behind me.  That was their mistake.

 



 

 

 

 

 

I bobbled, then spun, then went sideways, then grabbed a tree, and then proceeded to block the whole trail while I fumbled to get unclipped.  They all had to stop and walk the climb.  I managed to get back on the bike before anyone could get around me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

First place was so far out front I couldn't even see him, and I had managed to put a small gap on the rest of the old guys.  This is a dangerous place for me in a bike race because I lose my focus and start to back off.  Jim had given me good advice before the start about not using the flat sections to recover, I took that to heart and it seemed to make a difference.  That's why Jim wins.

 

Lead rider is so far ahead of me he's not even in the picture.

 

 

A couple of Clydesdale's caught and passed me which gave me a target, I got on the second guys wheel and picked it up a little.  We rode like that for a while until I caught a glimpse of an old guy behind us, gaining.  As soon as I asked, the Clydesdale let me by, and I picked up the pace.  As I rounded a corner onto a long straight I saw first place in my class off the side of his bike.  I had no idea at the time what his problem was but I wasn't going to stop and talk about it (he wasn't hurt).  I kept expecting him to catch me but of course I now know he had flatted.

 

 

 

 

So like I said I managed to get first.  In moto finish line celebrations are expected, apparently in cycling they are not.  I embarrassed the Lovely Wife (not the first time that's happened) with my excessive antics.  As Jim the Wise said "oh, you're that guy".

 

 

 

Jim the Wise on the right.  Look closely, can you tell by his expression he won his class?

 

 

The Kid came as close as he's come to winning.  He was right behind first and second when, and I quote, "I suddenly saw leaves and sky".   Seems he clipped one of those pesky trees.  He managed to straighten his bike and finish third.

 

 

Notice how twisted The Kid's bars are.  This is just after his crash.

 

 

 

 

 

The spoils of victory!

 

What possesses a bunch of 50-60 year old men to race around in the woods on bicycles?  At this point in the racing season my yard looks like crap, my dog has this "are you going again?" expression on her face as I back out of the driveway,  the minister at church has forgotten my name, and the list of house projects just keeps getting longer.  But at least the Lovely Wife and The Kid still enjoy going. 

 

Only two more and a make up race to go.

 

Are You Kidding Me?

Up until last Thursday the weather report for the Conyers Ga. area showed a 20% chance of rain.  Then all of the sudden it jumped to 50%, then 60%.  Surely this couldn't be happening again.  The last GSC race at Winder was run in the rain, what were the odds it would happen at the very next race?  Pretty good as it turned out.

Huddled under the tent while it pours.  Wondering why we're doing this.

Thunder at 4 am

I could hear it pounding on the window of the hotel.  I picked up my phone and checked the radar.  That assured me of not getting back to sleep.  The whole area looked like someone had puked red and yellow all over a map of north east Georgia.  I contemplated just going home.  

At practice the day before the trail had been in perfect condition.  The new toy was just the right weapon, I was pumped.  At dinner that night (after my one beer) I even went so far as to boldly make predictions about my results on Sunday.  But I made sure I put in a caveat about it staying dry. 

After breakfast at the hotel on Sunday I texted Big Jim about bailing, to which he responded "we're racing".  That guy can be such a pain!  So we loaded up in a down pour and headed out into a dark rainy morning.  The Kid was even liking the bail out idea.  It just didn't seem right racing in the rain twice in one month.

 

Does he look happy or what?
 

It Gets Worse 

As Jim and Darien's wave lined up (they race at 9:30, The Kid and I race at 11:30) the bottom dropped out.  It was raining so hard you couldn't hear anything under the tent.

"It's NOT a cold, only allergies!"

 

 

The promoter's starting whistle wouldn't work it was so full of water.  Lighting flashed, thunder rolled, but the race went on.  I'll let those two tell their own race story, Jim has a doozy to tell.  I had nightmares Sunday night about what happened to him.

 

Danny K. broke pieces off his new Cannondale in a crash.  Before their race was over it had started to slack off, but the damage was done.

Our Turn

It doesn't look wet, trust me, it was.

 

The field into the woods looked like a shallow lake.  Within 100 yards my eyes were full of muddy water.  I managed to get into the single track 3rd.  They had cut the trail and the laps back (thankfully) but it was still a challenge to even stay upright in some sections.  About a quarter of the way through the first lap I noticed 2nd place start looking down at his front derailleur.  When we started up the first climb I just motored by.  Feeling froggy I went hard up the hill and put a gap on him and the rest of the class.  Then a little further on I came up on 1st place. "Oh yea" I thought, "now it's gonna get fun."

 

The new toy was amazing!  It saved my ass more than once on those slick hills.  But I was still scared when the trail pointed down.  I would tip toe around corners and ride the brakes on the descents.  We came through on the first lap close together with him in the lead.  I went around before we got back into the woods and managed to pull a little gap, then he'd promptly be right back there again.  He was in front of me on the biggest hill when he spun on a root.  I moved to the right and went by, cresting the hill before he could get half way up it.  "I've got this!" I thought.  I checked behind me in the woods and didn't even see him.  All of the sudden he's on my wheel!  What the Hell?  He came inside me on a muddy turn, we went up the next hill together, then he opened a gap on the way down.  I guess it's possible he was right behind me when I looked back that time.  They had recently harvested the timber in that section and you could easily see from one trail to the other.  I noticed during practice the trail could be cut with little problem.  I didn't hear anything behind me until he was right there, then I heard him.  I didn't think I was going that slow.

The Finish

 



When we popped out into the field that led to the finish line he was a ways in front of me so he was definitely faster.  I tried but could never close the gap, ending up 2nd.  The Kid finished 4th again but was close to the lead group and had a good race.  I managed to keep my comments positive this time.

 

All of our stuff was covered in mud.  The new toy was no longer new looking.  It never rained during our race and the second lap was even slicker than the first.  I was glad to be finished but a little disappointed with my performance.  I guess I should be practicing going down hill instead of up.

We race again this coming weekend.  Forecast is for 20% chance both Saturday and Sunday.  Think we'll get away with that?







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New toy.  Specialized Epic carbon comp 29.  Before the race.

Is This Love?

 

I have a new toy.  Did I really need it?  Do any of us really need things like this?  No.  Am I faster on it than the old toy?  No.  Was it love on the first ride?  No.  After all it still has a 1956 motor (a damn good looking motor if I do say so my self).  I did fall in love with it on the second ride though.  The big wheels do what I expected, but the pleasant surprise was the drive train.  I noticed the 2X10 set up helped me in certain sections.  The new toy has a brain, well really it has 2.  I purchased this particular toy because I like that option and I have not been disappointed.  Yet.

We race the next 2 weekends and I am excited.  Conyers Ga. is this weekend and I like that trail system.  The next race is Dauset and I don't particularly care for racing there.  It's a great place to trail ride but I find it difficult to race on.  I may change my strategy after my dismal performance at the last race.  According to the OMTP I should be almost to the top of my fitness.  I don't feel like the top but we'll see soon enough.

Not About A Bike

The Kid is in his last week of school as a junior.  He got to march into the auditorium this week as a rising senior.  He's thrilled, I'm scared.  They tell you it goes by fast but you don't have any idea how fast until you live it.  It'll freak you out if you dwell on it too much.  Raising him has been a little like a training plan.  Did I do too much?   Was I too hard?  Not hard enough?  The mistakes stick out in my mind.  The good stuff?  I hope he remembers that.

If you've already been through all this, maybe more than once, you understand.  You may even think I'm being a little silly and you're probably right.  If you've yet to experience this approaching milestone take a minute to think about it.

Cliff made him pose by a gopher hole.  Looks thrilled doesn't he?

Anyhoo enough melancholia!  I'll post a race report next week.  See ya on the next page.

Better?

After the race in Winder I was over being cold and wet, but mother nature wasn't through pissing rain.  The Kid and I bailed on the regular Tuesday MTB ride because it had started to rain (while Jim the Magnificent went on alone).  I rode the trainer Thursday while it rained outside the garage.  Then came Saturday, which was my scheduled test day on the bike.  Of course it was windy and sprinkling when I started off toward Bloxham Cutoff from the Trout Pond trail head.  I was in a foul mood.

This has nothing to do with this story, I just like it.

I will keep the results of the test to myself, needless to say they were nothing to brag about (or believe me I would).  On the cool down I wanted to explore some old moto trail behind the now abandoned Helen Guard Station.  Since it had been raining all week the sand was packed enough that I could ride the CX bike on the single tract, only having to walk a few short sections that sand had washed into the trail.

I must have stapled a million of those arrows up back in the day.

"This would be even better on the MTB" I thought as I pedaled along.  I wasn't paying attention to the direction I was going, I was just enjoying the ride, when I popped out onto a graded road.  "Oh, I know where I am" I said to myself.  After all I have an amazing sense of direction, plus I've ridden these woods for 20 years, I don't need to look at a compass.  I turned right.  I took the next section of single track that crossed the road but it soon became too soft, plus it was getting close to lunch, so I back tracked to the graded road.  Then I got a little confused.  With no sun out I had lost my sense of where I was.  I had to admit my ranger rick woodsman skills had failed me, I was going to have to rely on technology to get back to the truck.  I whipped out my phone.

I couldn't even see a paved road close to the little blue dot marking my location.  "This must be wrong" I thought, "I can't be that lost".  But I was.  The problem was exacerbated by the fact I didn't have my glasses with me and therefore was having trouble reading the road numbers.  Plus I had begun to distrust my phone.  I finally scrolled back far enough to find pavement and headed in that direction.  I came out opposite from where I wanted to be.  I still made my pizza and beer lunch on time but my usual confidence in my excellent directional skills was shaken.

I'll Have the 12" Please

Sunday was the first Sausage Fest Ride out of Bradley's Country Store.  I was still tired from Saturday, plus I was concerned with my test results.  I had the feeling I was not recovering good enough.  So what do I do?  I ride 66 miles on soft clay roads trying to keep up with the Power Rangers.  I would have dropped off earlier but I caught a draft from a passing truck that pulled me back on.  There is a shorter version of the route which I had fully intended to take but I got sucked into the thrill of being able to keep the front group in sight.  Besides my cue sheet had gotten soaked with muddy water which rendered it unreadable so I had to take the full route or risk getting lost (again).

Anyhoo, that hurt pretty bad.  Definitely not the smartest thing I've ever done.

I got a small amount of pleasure when one of the Power Rangers had to walk a couple of hills on the way in. 

One of the Power Rangers.  "Did I get dropped?"

Then the group that took the shorter (6") route was complaining about how hard that was.  I kept a poker face on while we had beers and sausage dogs, not wanting to show that bunch any weakness.

Anybody who beat Jim raise their hand.

35 Years

Sunday was also our Anniversary.  As Jim said "She is a saint to put up with you".  As usual he's right.  I put on my "I'm not too tired to go out" face and took the Lovely Wife out to eat that evening.  Proving that, yes, I am Iron Man.

Rainy Day People

I'm a little disappointed with my performance last weekend at the Georgia State Championship/ Southeast Cup race in Winder Ga.  Yes it rained overnight.  And yes it rained before my race.  And of course it rained during my race.  But it absolutely flooded after the race was over.  Ahh 64 degrees, windy, and cloudy, mixed in with showers, made for a chilly start.  To say I was concerned while on the starting line would be an understatement.

On The Line

There were 11 entered in my class and we sat there in the drizzle while the wind blew off the lake, waiting for the starting whistle.  I hadn't ridden my MTB in the mud very much before this event, and I had certainly never raced in the mud.  During my practice/warm up the trail was slick in some spots but tacky in others.  I pride myself on being able to read dirt due to my many years riding moto but this stuff had me buffaloed.  I couldn't tell where or when the bike was going to slide.  I got nervous.

10 Seconds!

"Just get a good jump and survive this" I told myself.  I got away 2nd but backed off going into the woods and let 4 by me.  At first it wasn't too bad, the pace was reasonable, and my competitors in the GSC were right with me.  As the trail went down through a flat area I heard the guys up front yell something about being slick.  It was and I backed off a little more.  The first attack came from behind me on the first uphill so I followed him past a couple of SERC guys and settled into 4th.

I could stay with them on the climbs but they'd gap me on the descents.  Even in the flat sections I was being cautious and they would pull me.  We were all close the whole first lap.  I came through the feed zone still in 4th.

The End

It looks like there are at least 4 of us contesting the GSC only.  That was the group freight training through the slop on the last lap.  I was getting frustrated, I would work hard on the uphills, get a gap, a gap so big sometimes I couldn't even see the guy behind me, then lose it when it started downhill or got flat.  Somewhere during that time I got into second, I could see first through the trees, but I couldn't shake 3rd.  He managed to hang with me on the last climb, something he wasn't doing earlier, then go past on the following downhill.  Damn it!  I had beaten this guy at every race last year, and even at Macon this year.  But here he was gapping me right before the finish. 

The whole race I was convinced there was someone off the front.  If there was he didn't finish the first lap.  I rolled in 3rd, 27 seconds behind first.

Did the OMTP fail me?  Was it just the mud?  You can see I'm having doubts.

The Kid finished 4th after a good race.  He was all pumped when he met me at the finish of my race.  Of course I did the dumb dad thing when he told me he got 4th and looked disappointed.  I just knew he would do better than that and was thinking he might be bummed.  Well he was after he saw my reaction.  Oh well, just add that to the list of dumb dad stuff I do.  After all, that's all he'll remember anyway. 

"What's wrong with fourth?"

Post Race

It rained harder.  We collected our medals in the rain, loaded the Sub. in the rain, and drove most of the way home in the rain.  As my little GM 3 foursome talked after our race I learned one had had open heart surgery, the other had just finished radiation treatments.  Both of them beat me.  I don't have anything, except maybe whimpitus. 

The series results show both The Kid and I in second.  Should I stay the course?  After all the only goal I had was to be on the blocks at the end of the season.  Or should I up the intensity?  Abandon the OMTP?  I have just 2.5 weeks until the next race.  Maybe my season is already set?