Tom Dula's Revenge

Tom Dula's Revenge was my second race of the weekend.  I hadn't planned to do it, but when it became a fund raiser for the Jon Clark Grab Life by the Handlebars Fondation I knew I had to go.

So, I arrived at the Wilkesboro drag strip a bit less than well rested with the intent of just riding how I felt.

Again the weather was awesome.  Warm, overcast, but no rain yet.  A bit of wind, giving a bigger advantage to riding in a group, but very nice weather indeed.

It takes my legs a bit to get wound up, having to recuperate for yesterdays efforts and crashes.  I lose the lead pack immediatlely.  But I would run many of them down as the race progressed and riders were flung out the back from fatigue or mechanicals.

It's kind of nice to be on a cyclocross bike.  The pace is higher over the rollling terrain and the miles click by rapidly.  There is one climb early that is a bit challenging on slick tires, but rideable (for many), followed by a deep stream crossing.  Everything else was quite rideable. 

I really enjoyed riding through the countryside on rolling terrain.  It was refreshing to know that there weren't any ridiculously steep descents or long hike-a-bike sections.  I could push myself to the limit on climbs, knowing I could recover a bit on the descents and still be able to make it to the finish.

The folks that elected for a more road going tire ended up going slowly on the gravel, or running out of tubes and having to be SAG-ed back.  I had a tough 25c tire on AC Hurricane wheels and actually enjoyed riding the gravel roads.

I finished in just under 3:00.  Good for 7th out of 16 in my age group.  Certainly yesterdays race knocked the edge off of my performance, but I was very pleased with that time.  It was a good day.  It served a worthy cause.  A fast, fun ride and well organized event!

A special thanks to Andrew Stackhouse and the volunteers from the Cool Breeze Cyclery team for putting forth the extra effort to make this a successful fund raiser as well as an awesome race.

See you on the trails!

Mohican 100

Saturday marked my first Mohican 100, and my first race of the weekend.  An ambitious plan, but more on that later.

I took the day off work Friday to make the drive to Loudonville, OH.  That way I could be there early enough to check-in and check out the trails at the Mohican State Forest. 

The majority of the single track that makes up Mohican are in the State Forest.  They are pretty sweet.  Fast rolling, hard pack with some roots, rocks and off camber mixed in.  The kind of trails you like to ride in an endurance event.  They actually make you feel like you are going somewhere instead of just twisting back and forth on itself.

Like Wildcat Epic, Mohican had a remote start in the local downtown - Loudonville, in this case.  Also, like Wildcat, my son made the drive from PA to help out with support.  It really makes a difference having a familiar face waiting for me at the aid stations.

The 100 mile and 100K riders rolled off together in one giant mass start.  I was reasonably near the front, so it never created a real bottleneck problem, but I think it kept the early pace pretty high as the 100K'ers could afford to push a bit harder early.

It had rained overnight, but I came prepared with a 2nd set of wheels for just such an occasion.  It proved to be the right choice as several racers slid off course in front of me while I was able to maintain grip.  Not big knobs by any means, but better than what I had for Wildcat!

The elevation profile of the Mohican course shows a lot of short to medium length steep climbs with no long, decisive climbs.  The climbs come quickly in the first 30 miles then spread out as the race goes along.

The 20 miles to the first aid station were almost all single track, so it took awhile to get there.  There was one notable ridiculously steep, straight up hike a bike section.  Everything else was quite rideable.  We would continue with rapid-fire climb-then-descent for another 10 miles in the Mohican forest before the climbs started to spread out a bit.

Aid stattion #2 came up at 34 miles.  So far everything is going smoothly, the weather is nice - overcast, warm, and no rain.  No bike mechanicals and I am enjoying the ride.

We ride with 100K'ers all the way to aid station #3 at mile 46.  We separate here, and I spend a lot of time riding solo in the woods with no one in sight.  It's kind of refreshing to ride my own pace.  This section would be the longest section between aid stations, but it is a fast segment.  There are a few short sections of more rugged trail, but mostly road, double track and rail trail.  It's a bit difficult tp  judge pace on a rail trail because if you go to hard you are completlely cooked for the upcoming climbs.  Too slow, and you just lose time.  I watch my power and maintain a high zone 2.

Aid station 4 finally arrives and I am starting to enter the finish-strong mode.  Using all my energy reserves and pushing the pace.  On a fast road descent, head down and digging, focusing on the climb ahead I fail to notice the signs indicating a left turn until I am right on top of it.  It's one of those "Y" intersections - for turning left or right, and I miss the first turn in, but I set up for the second one.  I let off the brakes, make the turn-in then slide out and hit the pavement hard.  As I skitter across the pavement I remember to roll to kind of evenly spread out the road rash.  I hit the road hard enough to brake a buckle on my shoe.  I hop back on the bike before any soreness has the opportunity to set-in and I hammer on.  Trying to focus on not focusing on the pain.  The extra adrenaline does add a bit of motivation to the pace

Five miles later there are a series of ridiculously steep single track descents.  I am pushing kind of hard (still), and I end up in a trap.  I am going too fast to slow on the loose descent, and with a loose shoe I couldn;t really weight my pedal like I needed to and I head right for a downed tree designed, I suppose, to keep fools like me on the trail.  To no avail.  I hit it.  Hard.  Over the bars.  I find myself sprawled out on the log with my bike hanging off of my leg by the seatpost.  It's all I can do to scramble out from the trap I'm in (resulting in my bike falling down the side of the hill), drag my bike out of the briers and back onto the trail, readjust my helmet, do a quick inventory and carry on.

I'm still in a bit of a daze as I come upon the longest swinging bridge I've ever seen.  It seems to narrow as I ride it.  But I manage to focus on the other end and traverse it safely, tho slowly.

As I roll into the final aid station, I am truly a sight to behold.  The mud has covered most of the road rash, but the most recent crash has added more places for blood to exit and my right calf is bruised, swollen and throbbing.  But I'm almost finished.  And that's reason enough to carry on.

I enter the familiar single track at the Mohican State Forest.  I quickly come upon mile marker 4, and I am heading towards the trail head, so I know there isn't much more than 4 miles to go.  With my shoe buckle whacking the crank every revolution and right calf throbbing I push on to the finish and ride through the very welcoming inflatable Kenda finish line.  Truly feeling like I'd accomplished something.  It's a great feeling.  It's probably why, as endurance racers, we do what we do.  I just hope that I do what I do in a way that will glorify God.

My finish time was about 8:17.  I didn't hang around for the results.  I had a 50 mile gravel/road race to do in North Carolina at 9:00am the next day.

See you on the trails!

Burn 24

I had always wanted to do the Burn 24 Hour Challenge.  As a team.  I had talked about it with my friend, Jon.  But with other racing commitments, I was never able to do it. 

This year I had the opportunity.

Jon did not.

This being the last Burn 24 - I decided to do it solo: This one's for you, Jon!

My awesome Cycle Works team loaned me a fully equipped trailer and some bike lights for the event, and my son was going to be in town for pit support.  I would have no excuse.  Except for the little issue of not having trained for a 24 hour race.  But then I looked at it from a different perspective.  Although I made the choice to enter the race, everyday people are faced with challenging circumstances.  How we react to them is up to us.  I would do my best.

Raceday starts at Noon on Saturday with a LeMans style run to the bikes.  I guess I was the only one that didn't know you wear running shoes, then change shoes when you get to your bike.  So, a slow run and a slow shoe change saw me enter the woods near the rear of the field

But I am quickly passing people.  Perhaps too quickly, I think.  So I try to follow some other riders.  For about a lap and a half.  At that point I can't take it anymore.  I have to run my own pace.  I hammer the descents, but avoid over-powering the climbs.  I'm riding at what I feel is a sustainable pace.

For the first 10 laps I am just logging miles.  Being smooth.  Being careful to eat and drink appropriate amounts.  I am running 2nd, but no sight of leader Morgan Olsson.

As the daylight hours come to an end, I hop onto my full suspension bike which is already equipped with lights.  At first, lap times remain largely unchanged.  The night has a re-vitalizing effect.  It becomes increasingly important to stay focused on the trail.  But as the sunlight fades completely into oblivion, my lap times slow.  I am more fatigued, so the climbing is slower and I can't see far enough ahead to bomb the descents.  I am a bit unsure of battery life and recharge times, so I am a bit tentative about running my lights on full power.

When it's time for a battery change, I swap back to my hardtail bike which has been set-up with a more powerful set of lights - even on low power.  This would be my weapon of choice for most of the duration of the night.

At some point in the night, an alien invasion occurs.  A nice touch by the Burn crew.  Plus it signified the final major climb of the lap and that a sweet descent was just ahead.

At 3:20am the leader of the race catches me to lap me.  Although it doomed my chances of winning, it was a bit of an honor that it took last years winner that long to lap me.

During the night I couldn't help thinking about when Jon did his first race lap at the Burn 24.  It was at night, after a rain so he decide to use his first-MTB-he-ever-owned aluminum, hardtail, cantilever brake 26" Trek 4300 instead of his brand new full-carbon, Trek Fuel because the 4300 had knobbier tires.  To which he received no end of ribbing for running the old bike.

On the last lap before dawn it rained.  Just enough.  I look up briefly and smile.

As night time drew to a close I was in pure survival mode.  My goal becomes to keep riding until dawn.  My pace seems ridiculously slow.  And though I am getting passed more frequently by the team racers, I am still passing riders in worse condition than me.  It's motivation to keep pedaling.

Pretty soon the sun begins to rise, as it always does.  The birds begin to sing.  It's time to ditch the lights.  As I set out for what I hoped would be my last lap, I have my son check with scoring to see where I stand, and how many laps I have to do to lock into 2nd position. 

On fully sunlit trail, I become a markedly better rider.  I can once again hammer the descents.  Even the climbing is better as I can pick and choose the best line over the rocks and roots easier.  I have delusions of riding all the way until Noon last lap cutoff.  But, as the lap comes to an end the effects of the last gel and Red Bull wear off and I once again realize how fatigued I really am.

Fortunately, my son informs me that I am solidly locked into 2nd place, even though it's only 7:30 in the morning.    After 23 laps, I call it quits.  When the leader sees I have stopped, he also calls it quits.

The whole final lap I feel a bit bad about the possibilty of ending early.  Upon further thought I decide to leave the unraced hours for Jon.  My way of leaving an opportuniy open for what might have been.  And what could be.

 http://www.grablifebythehandlebars.org/

Wildcat 100

You never know what a day may bring...

Rewind to last week.

Tuesday, I got home from work late. I had a short workout, so i opted to do it on my trusty CompuTrainer.  While merrily pedaling along, watching the Giro on one computer and digital scenery go by on another, my phone rings.  It's up-and-coming NUE superstar Wes Richards.  He says he's going to race Wildcat 100 on Saturday and may be able to get me a cheap entry and wonders if I wanna go.

Wildcat 100 is a pretty new event, and it's a first time NUE series race.  And it's in new York. And it's a 10 1/2 hour drive. And we would have to leave Thursday after work. 

Did I mention this was Tuesday night?  I hadn't even washed my bike from Cohutta yet.  I had been too busy getting my butt kicked in masters road racing.

I ask my wife what she thought about me going. Since we spent our anniversary weekend at Cohutta I figured I'd get a resounding "no" for skipping out on Mothers day, too.  Instead, I got a "if you think you will have fun..."

Wednesday, I ask my boss if I can have off Friday.  Oh, and I need to leave early Thursday, too.  He says "go ahead, have fun"

Hmmmm... This seems to easy.

I talk to one of the guys I work with, who's judgement I respect. He says "when are you going to be able to do it again?" Surprised by his respone, I tell him, "Not til next year". He prophetically says, "you should do it.  You never know what will happen between now and then."

So that night I raced the time trial at Charlotte Speedway as I had previously planned, went home and stayed up late washing my bike, sent the wife scrambling for some "obligatory" Wildcat items (according to the racer's guide - which turned out not be so obligatory) and packed everything I might possibly need for a 100 mile MTB trek into unknown territory.  The good news was that my son, Anthony, was going to be able to make the drive from Pennsylvania to be pit support. One less thing to worry about. 

Thursday morning comes early as I had to be at work at 6:00 am to be able to leave early. I meet Wes after work and we make the drive as far as Harrisburg, PA before crashing for the night.

Friday we arrive at the Williams Lake Project, the main event site, for registration.  There is some confusion about the remote race start (as in, where it actually IS).  None of the trails are marked for pre-riding yet and none of the riders we meet seem to know very much about the course.  The common theme among the racers' seem to be that it will be a lot of road and that it's probably going to rain. Which it wasn't nearly enough of for me and it did...

So, we ride around the main event site looking for trails to pre-ride that might be included in the race.  Much of it is obviously not frequently ridden, soft dirt and a bit rocky.  There aren't a lot of miles of trail, and with the predicted amount of road riding I opt to keep my fast rolling, low knob tires on for the race. 

We pedaled to downtown in light rain to downtown Rosendale for the 6:45am start.  From there we rode back to the trails at the main event site. They are wet now, but mostly rideable with my tire choice.  I just hoped we wouldn't have to ride them again at the finish.

As it turns out there was quite a bit of road, rail trail, and rain.  I won't take time to go into all of the details but the hi-lights included a bit of a road hike to Lippmann park. The constant rain made for slick trails and treacherous bridge crossings at the park which was a shame as they would have a blast being able to hit them at full speed in drier conditions. Another road hike back took us to the biggest climb of the event. All on easily traversed gravel double track which was really quite scenic (where it wasn't too foggy) and enjoyable. 

...and then it became less enjoyable trails as we rode on cow trails (literally) thru pasture and thru orchards (and more orchards).  In all fairness, it wouldn't have so bad had it not been bog-you-down peanut butter muddy so many places.  

After seemingly endless miles of mud - some of which I didn't even have enough rear grip to propel the bike forward on level terrain, much less climbs, necessitating frequent dismount/remounts - we end up back on familiar rail trail. I figured we were near the end.  It was flat and fast - one place I knew I could make up time.  So I drilled it. And drilled it.  And drilled - what was that sign?  100 milers turn left, 60 milers go straight????   Marvelous.  I have to turn off of the easy-going path and take the peanut butter mud climb (more dismount/remount).  But, just like all the other sections, this section also came to an end.

To my relief, up next was a familiar section of road - leading back to the finish.  We enter Williams Lake and there it is - the glorious Kenda finishing arch. Signifying an end to a hard fought, arduous day of racing.  I sprint to the... What are the cones for??? Guess what- we have to do another lap of the trails.  Which are now very muddy and, you guessed it, more dismount/remount peanut butter mud. 

But this section also came to an end.  And I indeed finished. I endured. 

A better choice of tires for the conditions would have helped tremendously, but at the end of the day I had no mechanicals, I had great aid station help by my son at 3 aid stations (my only stops) -and I managed a top 15 finish.  

All that remained was to wash the mud off me ...and the 10 1/2 hour drive home.  Which we did straight through.

I was glad I went, glad I had a friend who was thoughtful enough to invite me, and a son willing to make the trip to help out. Who knows if I'll be able to do it again.?

Grab life by the handlebars!

Cohutta 100

Racers assemble for the start

Chilly 7:00am start.  Rain.  100 miles.  12,000+ feet of climbing.  Super slick single track.  Ultra fast descents.  Did I mention 12,000+ feet of climbing?  The perfect race for me.

Nearly.

This is my fourth Cohutta 100.  My first 100 mile MTB race of the season.  I've been training for the race for months and I am stoked to be on the starting grid!  It's cold and rainy.  Two of my favorite things for bettering my results :)

Abandoning my usual starting protocol, I slot in near the front.  At 7:00 am sharp we roll off at the shout of "GO".  Up the iconic Hwy 64 climb with police escort.  I am just off the back of the small pack that is the lead group.  Perfect for riding my pace through the single track.

Boyds gap has a sandy surface and hasn't been affected by the rain too much.  There are some slick spots, but all goes well.  I have begun catching riders unable to maintain the pace of the lead pack.  Here and there I pick up spots.  I am riding a strong pace, but it's an effort I feel that should pay off later.

We loop back to the Ocoee White Water Center, cross the bridge and onto the single track.  The trail here is a bit more slick and technical.  This would be my test of tire selection.  I am on Kenda 24Seven Race 2.0's.  Normally these would be the perfect tires for this race, but they are not designed for mud.  They are sketchy, to be sure, but no worse than the others I'm racing with.  In fact, I find that I am dropping others on the descents and ride past 2 racers who were unable to clear a short, steep, rooty climb. 

At 16.5 miles I exit the singletrack, blow thru aid station #1 and begin the long trek of fire road that make up the majority of the Cohutta 100.   It's a short distance to aid station #2.  I've got my nutrition and hydration planned to where I can blow thru this station as well.

The next segment is mostly all climbing.  It's not terribly steep, but seemingly endless.  There are a few descents to break up the climbing, but you pay for them immediatley.  It's a rhythm I do well at.  Pace thru the majority of the climb (sometimes I get passed here).  Push near the top.  Push over the top and wind out the gears on the descent (this is where I usually make up time).  Pedal the descents, stay off the brakes and roll the corners.  There are slick spots to get my attention so I have to use my brakes more than normal. 

I meet my wife at aid station #3, mile 36.  My first stop.  The stop goes as planned.  I pause for a kiss and I'm rolling again.  The race has been going well.  My pace is strong - I'm catching riders and not getting passed.  I haven't lost any time for traffic or mechanicals.  It's raining lightly and I'm working hard and feeling good.

The section from aid#3 to aid #4 is harder than it looks like on the elevation profile.  The climbs are not real long, but they are steep and relentless.  I would be happy for these climbs later.  I know I can push this section kinda hard because aid station #4 signifies the first section of the Pinhotti trail.  It's relatively smooth and flowy and predominantly downhill.  A good chance to recover before the long, hard climb back up the road.

And then my race comes to a grinding halt.  Mile 46 on my Garmin.  The crank will barely turn.  I turn the bike upside down.  The wheel rotates forward, but not backward.  I pull it out.  Brakes look good, nothing obviously wrong with the wheel and the crank spins freely with the wheel off.  So I put everything back together, with the same result.  I can barely turn the pedals over, but I can coast.

So I do.  Back the way I came.  It's disheartening to see racer after racer pass me by, but as I hike and coast the 10 miles back to the aid station where my wife is waiting for me (aid #3 becomes aid #6 on the return trip), it's encouraging to see so many riders still pushing to finish the race at what is now hour 4:00 then 5:00 - and hadn't even made it halfway yet.

The return trip takes a slightly different route which includes a mostly downhill section of Pinhotti trail.  I could actually roll most of this, dismounting for every climb or long flat section.  Eventually I am caught by leader of the race, Christian Tanguay.  Over 5 minutes later, the second place racer goes by and asks how far ahead Christian is.  Fellow North Carolina, ever increasingly speedy racer, Wes Richards, rolls by in 4th.  It's great to see him doing well, but it really makes me want to be riding my bike instead of pushing it and using it as a scooter.

The chill hadn't bothered me before, but now that I am walking and coasting I am not generating the heat I was when riding.  It was a welcome site to see the aid station ahead.  All of the volunteers are eager to help, but I don't really know what's wrong with the bike, other than it won't free-wheel, so I just load up and hop in the nice, warm car and ride back to the Hotel.  Disappointed in a DNF, greatful for a wife to pick me up, pleased with how the race was going to that point.

I awoke to a steady rain the next morning and rode over 60 hard, but gratifying miles on the trainer.  I'll be ready again for the next race. 

Congrats to all the finishers of a very difficult race!

Men's podium.

A blustery Boone-Roubaix

On paper, Boone-Roubaix was a race that should have suited me well.  Fifity miles, lots of climbing, screaming descents and lots of "unimproved roads" and racing by age group.

On paper.

And then the winds, and the just-out-of-reach peloton.

I chose to go with my Love Valley Roubaix set-up: 25c Detonators, AC hurricane wheels with an 11-28 cassette on my Blue AC1SL road bike.  While the 25c tires were not enough for the squishy roads that were Love Valley, I'm left wondering if they weren't a bit of overkill for B-R.  I gotta think I would have been a bit faster on the AC carbon 58 23c tubulars I had ready.

I thought I was done with freezing races after Love Valley, but at 9:00 am in Boone it was 34 degrees and windy. Really windy.  At least it was sunny, and warming.  I probably could've done without the leg warmers and 1 extra layer.  I guess it was just overreaction from the uber-chilly Love-Valley race.

I "nearly" had a good start, but somehow the pack split.  Not in a good way for me.  I was left chasing.  And chasing.  I could see the pack ahead, but just couldn't close the gap.  I would work hard, just to find myself pushing solo into the wind.  Twice I gave up the chase.  Resolved to catch whatever stragglers I could as the day progressed.

That would've been easier (smarter?).

I kept seeing the pack.  Just out of reach.  Finally the pack checked-up ever so slightly.  I pushed hard with 3 others and we regained contact just before mile 12.  ...and the mile 12 climb.  Where I was soon shelled off the back.

Uggghhh.  More chasing.  I would make up ground on the climbs and the super--fast descents.  But in the wind and on the flats, a little guy like me was at a distinct disadvantage.  I continued the just-out-of-reach solo hammerfest.  Mile 34 to mile 42 was dead flat.  I was doomed.  I had one other rider who was mildly commited to chasing.  Alas, we succomed to a chasing group of about a dozen riders.  I did my part in the pace line, but I knew they were a lot fresher then me if they've riding as a group, sharing the work.

I am too stubborn (stupid?) to settle for riding with the group.  I know there are 2 more substantial climbs before the finish.  When we get to the first one, I go to the front and push the pace a bit.  A few riders stay with me.  The rest are close behind.  Most regain contact on the short descent leading to the final climb.  This time I make it hurt.  When we crest the hill the group has been narrowed to 4.  I'm pretty well cooked, but I like my chances against 3 others rather than 12.

The huge efforts have taken their toll, however, and as we roll thru the final section of pave leading to the final lap at the fairgrounds I am unable to mount any kind of attack.  My sprint to the muddy finish is pretty weak and I finish at 2:41 - last in our group of 4.  Still, it has been a good training day leading up to the Cohutta 100 mile MTB race next weekend.  My strategy was pretty terrible for any kind of result today.  Hopefully it will pay-off later.  After all, I could've stayed home and done a nice, warm group ride.  In the meantime I'll continue to push the pace.  Even if it means going off the back sometimes. 

See you on the trails!
...or at least off of the paved roads!

The 40-49 podium.  Congrats, men!

6 Hours of Warrior Creek

The 6 Hours of Warrior Creek race kicked off my endurance racing season today.  I had done well in a 50 mile roubaix-style race last weekend, Love Valley Roubaix, and a criterium race on Tuesday at Dixie Classic Fairgrounds, but the 6WC would be a good indicator of early season endurance racing form. 

I've had a cold all week and wasn't sure how I'd be feeling at the start.  I could ride pretty well at endurance and tempo pace, but really start to feel bad at short, hard efforts.  My conservative strategy was to focus on racing a smooth tempo pace, being conscience to always be pushing at tempo pace, but trying not to go harder than that.

A hard day of rain on Thursday left a few residual slick spots for Saturdays race.  I was on some pretty fast rolling low-knob, no-side-knob tires so I had my concerns.  Lap 1 went well, I got a reasonably good start, and worked my way thru the field as gaps opened up.  I passed riders on three separate occasions that either slid off course or crashed.  I made sure to stay focused on the trail surface and to ride smooth.

I blew thru the feedzone as planned to complete Lap 1.  Lap 2 is a little less congested.  I start to mentally describe the sections of each mile marker.  Mile 1 is a bit of short, stand-up climbs, mile 2 is like 1 with bigger climbs.  Mile 3 is kinda hard.  A good place to push to make up time.  Mile 4 is a recovery section - a lot of fast sections. Mile 5 is the "magic forest section" and into the open field.  Mile 6 is the bridge over-look.  Mile 7 is the swithback climbs.  Mile 8 is rocks then climbing.  Mile 9 is rocks.  Mile 10 is the old start/finish area.  Mile 11 is the road crossings.  12 is the OVT intersection then the start/finish.

Somewhere past Mile 10 on Lap #2 I managed to clip a pedal which somehow resulted in me flying over the handlebars onto the downhill side of the trail.  I had enough air time to wonder just how/where I would land.  And then with a "thump" and a "crack" I land on my back and my helmet hits the ground hard.  I feel Ok, pick my helmet visor up, put my chain back on and carry on.  Shifting would never be the same again, tho.

I botch the end of the lap 2 feed zone stop.  First, I couldn't get the pills out of my little zip-lock bag, then I drop my Hammer bar on the ground.  I rolled off and forgot to remove my head sock like I had planned as the day warmed-up, so I stopped to remove it after trying unsuccessfully to pull it out from under my helmet while riding.  Then had to stop again on the trail after I realized I forgot to re-clip my helmet strap.  Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought...

On lap #3, I'm pushing a little extra hard to make up for my lap #2 crash when the front wheel slides out and I center up a tree.  There is a nice green mark in the center of my number placard to commemorate the occasion.

So, now I'm on a bike with a front derailleur that rubs really hard when in the big ring, but does OK in the small ring (where I decide to leave it for the duration of the race), but I can only get 4 or 5 of the rear cogs - and those shifts are performed somewhat grudgingly, and a left (front) brake lever that is turned somewhat awkwardly up.  I have a second bike waiting in the pits, but don't feel it's worth taking the time to stop and switch the number.  It looks like I'm only going to do 5 laps.  I can hang on for another lap and a half...

I roll thru the feedzone without stopping to start lap 4.  I'm pretty used to the bike now.  I miss having a big ring sometimes, but the trail has picked up grip and I'm pretty dialed on what my tires like in the corners. It's become pretty clear to me now that I'm only going to get 5 laps, so I'm pushing the pace a bit.  I'm passing a lot of people and feeling good.

At the completion of lap 4, my wife has arrived from work, and is ready with a water bottle hand-up, so I don't even have to slow down.  Sweet!  On lap 5, most of the people I am passing are moving at a rather reduced pace.  I'm still feeling good.  The earlier pacing has paid off.  I count through the mile markers as I've been rehearsing all race long.  When I get to the line, the clock reads 5:47.  Seven minutes past the cut-off time to do another lap.  Which is just fine, because I wasn't fueled to be able to another race-pace lap.

So after a quick shower and some recovery the wife tells me I finished 21st with 4 laps.  We have the timing and scoring reviewed and they correct my laps to 5 completed which puts my 2nd.  A good day.  Morgan Olson would take the win.  Kudo's to him, as he made the cut-off time and did 6 laps.

The awards were extra sweet with a great cash payout and lots of swag!  The weather was great and the trail is just plain fun to ride and race on.  This race continues to get bigger and better every year!  Thanks BMCC and all the trail and race volunteers!

See you on the trails!