Abilene
I got a special treat for the Bent Wheel Bash in Abilene: my dear friend from college, Elizabeth, was in town and came with the team to the race.
She had as much fun watching as I had racing... uh, scratch that. She had more fun watching than I had racing. I love the course at Abilene, but I learned this year that I like it slightly less than three laps. I wasn't prepared for the fast, loose, flowy stuff, so the guy that won, Dale, just rode away from me. Later on lap two, I had a crash - a hard crash. I laid on the ground for a moment and yelled at myself to get up at least three times before my body actually responded. With the low attendance, I ended up second despite riding so poorly, so I shouldn't complain.
Dallas
Next was the Dallas race at Prayer Mountain. I'd never ridden the course there before one of the girls from the team and I pre-rode the day before. I really, really liked the course. It's mostly fast and flowy, but not loose. There's a couple of climbs, and one of them is so hard that it's a fun challenge more than a nuisance.
My start wasn't super fast, but it was sufficient. I was probably only eight deep when we hit the single track, but I had a bad shift that made me think I threw my chain. Rather than try to fix it while riding, I stopped and got out of the way of the guys behind me only to realize that I had not thrown my chain, and I was more like twelve deep by the time I got back on the bike. Time to play catch up! I passed and passed and passed. I blew a corner and got passed, then passed and passed again. A teammate from the age group ahead of us flipped off a bridge into a small ravine, so we all had to stop. Mostly everything got better every lap though - until the third time I had to do that tough climb.
The first two times I climbed it, someone in front of me slowed me down and forced me to dismount. The third time I got to the based of the climb, no one was in my way, and the next guy to pass was 2/3 the way up. I tore into the climb - spin, spin, spin... It's so steep that, for the first half of the climb, they put paverstones in so you can keep traction. When the stones are gone, you have to work more to keep your rear tire from spinning. Right when I got to the top, I caught the guy ahead of me. He looked back, saw me, and said "Man! You're a beast!" Maybe he was right, but I was a beast that had burned his last match. He hoped on his bike and road off while I struggled to turn my cranks. By the time I got to the next corner, he was no where in site. I pulled it together to finish, but it was the only race of the season where I looked at the finish line and wondered if I'd make it the final 30 feet or simply fall over. I ended up fifth.
Coldsprings
The Big Ring Challenge at Coldsprings was less disappointing. I drove out with my buddy, Paul, and camped with Mafia Racing. Last year, Coldsprings was the first Cat 2 race that I'd ever done. It was fast, and I was underprepared. I was worried about what the pace would look like in Cat 1 if the pace had been so fast in Cat 2, and the sprint at the start did nothing to quell my fears. I've learned now (partially from this race) that there are people that are plenty fast enough to sprint ahead of you at the start, but can't hang after 30 minutes or 60 minutes or the two hours that most of our races last. Every single one of those guys sprinted ahead of me at the start. Again, I was probably eight deep when we hit the single track, and again, I passed and passed. I got around two or three guys when we got to the best thing about Coldsprings: jeep roads. I immediately passed three more guys and closed the space between me and my buddy, Paul. I complained to him immediately, "I've got to work on my starts so I don't have to play catch up the first half of every race!" He was in with three other guys, and they weren't pushing the pace too much. I started to worry that the lead group was getting away from us. We hit another jeep road and I passed Paul. It was shortly after this that I realized I was in the lead group. Dale had a pedal strike and came off the bike, but he easily caught us on the next jeep road.
We all whipped around the course at a good pace. It was fast, flowy, and loose, but this time I was prepared. With zero rocks and no drops, I ran about 16 psi, so my tires grabbed corners like a cat on a screen door. We yo-yoed a bit, and I started to see how it was going to go down. Dale and the guy ahead of him were going to fight it out for 1st place. The guy in front of me and I were going to fight for 3rd. And then, I had a pedal strike.
I've never fallen as a result of a pedal strike, and this was no exception. I was, however, having trouble clipping my left foot back in. I glanced down to see only half my pedal still attached to the bike. The lead group immediately pulled away.
I swatted at what remained of my pedal for the last eight miles of the course. It was a game of patience. Calming myself down every time my foot slipped off into space. I managed to keep fifth place from catching me, but third was long gone.
After the race I licked my wounds while I lapped up about a half dozen pints donated by Karbach Brewery.
Warda
Nothing was left but the Warda Race, but I wanted to really be ready to pull my season together with some good results at the final race. The weekend between races I trained hard. I put in 140 miles on the road, and found myself completely mentally exhausted. I'd planned on racing the Cat 1 race on Saturday and the Pro race on Sunday, but after overtraining the weekend before, I had trouble talking myself into going at all.
I showed up and registered, but I wasn't excited. I really didn't know how it would play out. If you aren't 100% into it, when your body says, "I'm tired," it's hard to tell it to push on.
The start was fast... for like less than a minute. The great thing about start at Warda is that it's really long. All the a-holes who try to sprint ahead at the start, peter out after 20 seconds. I got cautious, because I worried I'd run out of steam, but I maneuvered around a couple guys. I realized I had way more than what we were doing and started to think about attacking. While I was thinking about attacking, Don Sutton attacked. Dale, one other guy, and I went after him. When we hit the single track, the other guy got in front of Dale and I, and he really slowed us down. At one point I considered joking with him that Don had paid him off. It opened up and we went around him.
For the rest of the race, Dale and I rode together. We never saw Don again. I got tired on the second lap, but rallied for the third. Toward the end, Dale and I were talking a lot. He said he was saving his legs for the pro race the next day, and he wasn't going to sprint me at the end - in essence, he said "I'm cool with third if you want second." I felt like I was running out of steam the last five minutes, but Dale egged me on (that guy is so freaking nice). I finished second with Dale right behind me.
It was a good day - much better than I could've expect going into it. In the above photo, I have the second place trophy from the day's race, a sixty dollar payout, a top ten finisher t-shirt for the series, a second place plaque for the series, and a Texas State Championship silver medal.
Gratitude
I really feel like I accomplished so much this past year, and I owe so much to my friends for making it happen. AJ from the Peddler Bike Shop talked me into racing mountain bikes, and then sponsored me to do so. Orange Seal helped me with a couple of reg fees when I was starting out. My teammates and some of the guys from Mafia Racing encouraged me and offered so much advice. I couldn't have done any of it without these guys and gals. Thank you so much!
I'm looking at doing the state time trial championships next month, the triple threat at Hotter'n Hell this summer, and a few of the state cup races in the fall - after a couple weeks of rest!
