NUE #1–Too Gritty

Murphy’s law definitely applies to mountain bike racing–I’ve know that since my first race now almost 21 years ago! That being said, when I set out to make my race schedule I try my best to guard again intangibles with preparation and planning. So when I rolled to the True Grit venue at just after 6 AM feeling ready for the start and relieved that all seemed to be in order maybe I shouldn’t have let that guard down!

Actually Lady Luck was already at play the day before when I pre-rode 10+ miles of the track stopping right before the most technical and navigationally challenging section. Or when I rolled into registration to a huge lineup that lasted for three hours. I may be slow early in the morning but it became apparent in the pitch darkness that there was no way the 7 AM start was going to be anything less than a debacle, though.

At the riders meeting the promoter suggested that we try to start “about” 15 minutes later but check then to make sure it was light enough to see. At the time I was a little shocked that one living in the immediate area wouldn’t KNOW what time it was light enough to ride bikes. Sure, I rarely get out of bed before seven let along ride before 10 but, REALLY? By this time I had been out in the dark pedaling around for close to an hour and my ”warm-up” had become a BIG cool-down!

Then there was the part about “multiple lines” and “we mark the easiest line, not necessarily the fastest–that got my attention, too! So here we are starting in virtual darkness on course with a variety of options to follow. I was glad I had at least pre-ridden the first miles and only hoped that the rest of the course would be relatively easy to follow–WRONG again. I rode to the start line (one block away from the venue) at 7:15 and it was still dark. There may have been a lightening of the sky it was too dark to recognize faces and there was definitely no apparent call-up or organized starting process occurring.

So I rode back the parking told my buddy Cary Smith (who happened to have won the race last year) that it looked like they were getting ready to start but maybe a few more minutes wait. I took off my jacket and put it in my backpack about the time Cary exclaimed “they just LEFT!”. With that, he told me to shut the van door and split, which I did! As I headed up the street I could see some riders with headlamps riding away and at first I though they may have just postponed the start again. No such luck–it was game on.

I was stone-cold and now chasing through the dust and darkness slowly passing riders while surely continuing to lose time more time as I tried to navigate the rocky jeep trail almost blind. By the time we reached the first single trail, I couldn’t see the leading riders anymore and those I could see were about four minutes ahead disappearing over the top of first climb. I was still cold, at my limit physically and already losing. I wanted to quit and just go back the motel and go to sleep. The re-occurring nightmare I’ve often had about missing race starts had just became a reality–ironically on the day I was early and most ready to race!

A little positive self-talk had me believing in my training and endurance but I just couldn’t make any progress in closing the gap. Finally we reached the section of trail that was “new to me” and it was like landing on a different planet. Rocky drops and slick rock off-cambers suddenly turned a benign trail ride into a considerable effort. I flew into this gauntlet unaware and between Ripley’s (my bike) prowess and my own instincts I almost immediately flew past the riders ahead. Soon I was battling for fourth place and suddenly I felt like I had a chance in this technical playground.

I had finally caught up to Cary and tried to follow him up the climb into section but he was going too well and I make critical mistake by letting him get a slight advantage. As the trail became more technical again I started to have trouble locating the trail markers on the slickrock. Seeing Cary just ahead added to the confusion because often I tried to “connect the dots” only to discover that I had gotten off course. Soon that wasn’t an excuse because he disappeared quickly riding away from me as I hesitated in search of the proper path to follow and frustration again ensued.

Without any riders to follow and with no previous experience on the trail my pace slowed to a crawl. Countless times I had to completely stop the find the tiny ribbon or rock cairn in the glare of the rising sun. Finally I thought I had escaped this maze of madness as I could see the aid station in the distance. It wasn’t long after that near disaster struck. I had let my bike roll through some single trail and came back onto the slickrock. Suddenly the rock ended directly ahead and there was NO trail in sight. In my periphery I saw a ribbon directly to my left and pitched the bike sideways instinctively hoping my tires would have sufficient traction on the sandstone surface!

That may have been the case but I didn’t detect that as the rock ended it pitched down and away to the right and my front wheel  skidded away from me. I may have only been going 15mph but my face was going directly into the rock. With no time to extend my hands, I instinctively turned my face and tried to lift in above the impending impact. I saw a few starts as my face and left knee glanced off the rock. I bounced up and collected myself amazed that nothing seemed out of place. I headed down the trail inventorying my face and didn’t feel any broken teeth or taste telltale traces of blood.

When I reached the aid station someone said my nose was bloody and offered to help but I was past that. I found my bottle and straightened my bars before heading up the road. At the top of the climb we entered the second most frustrating section of the course, a labyrinth of trails leading out through the rolling desert in a general direction. It reminded me of riding ATVs in the Oregon Dunes where there is now set trail and folks just dawdle around searching for a fun line. There was the marked line but soon I discovered it often took a circuitous route and I knew that riders ahead where now successfully “connection the dots”. I immediately began to lose more time searching for the tiny orange ribbons instead of just forging ahead in the general direction of a destination I knew not.

Finally the trail became more apparently and defined and I put together the last piece of the puzzle. Now I had about 50 miles to make up 10 minutes deficit. It didn’t happen, I only saw Cary a few more times and he was able to hold his advantage over me while he passed Drew Edsall and Josh Tostado. I pressed on passing a flagging Drew knowing that Josh had to be coming back. He was but I ran out of course just a minute behind having to settle for a very frustrating and disappointing fourth place on the day.