I’m waiting just outside the staging area for my group to be called when some big guy rolls up and bumps my rear tire. Naturally, I turn around to see what happened and just as quickly turn my head back. No big deal, I think.
“Get used to it, dude”, says the big guy who bumped me.
“Just wonderful”, I think to myself. “I have to race with an asshole”.
I can overhear him laughing as he repeats the mindless quip to his friend.
I’m half-tempted to turn around at this point to say, “Yeah, I’d better get used to that because you’re going to be looking at my back tire all day.” I decide to just ignore him and let my bike do the talking. He apparently has more testosterone than talent because I smoked him at the start and never saw him again.
My group gets the call to the staging area, so I work my way to the front and find a nice spot on the far left by the barriers. The start is a mini version of the Oklahoma Land Rush. There’s a countdown and a sudden cloud of dust as riders launch off the line to an open wooded area in hopes of being first to the single track. I end up going into the single-track section in lower mid-pack range, which is what I pretty much expected. After a few miles, the trail turned into a wide gravel road. I attack and pass several riders before going back into the second section of single-track. The lineup stayed rather tight and constant throughout this section before going onto the 5.5-mile climb to the top of Oak Mountain via a rock-covered road. I absolutely LOVED this section of the trail. In fact, I owned it! Several riders instantly fell off the pace and found themselves in difficulty during the long climb. I passed more people than I could count, eventually catching three teammates who started in the two groups ahead of mine. There was a neutral feed zone along one section of the climb where volunteers passed out water bottles and sprayed riders with cold water from garden sprayers. There were also several spectators cheering, ringing bells, and running along side the riders like they do in the Tour de France. I was in Heaven! I’d like to do that section again!
By the top of Oak Mountain, I moved into a top five position and possibly a podium spot. However, this would not last long. The jeep road eventually joined with the BUMP trail; a twisting piece of single track littered with large rocks and loose soil. It also boasts the infamous Blood Rock section. I wasn’t very worried about negotiating Blood Rock since I did it the previous week while scouting the trail. My big worry was someone in front of me crashing and/or having someone right on my wheel during this section of trail. As it turns out, someone in front of me botched it, and I had to dismount and wait on the side of the trail like a stranded motorist during rush hour. I should have just run down this section, but I rode it last week and knew I could do it. I also didn’t want to have my picture taken doing the chicken walk on Blood Rock. It’s an ego thing. My big mistake, however, was trying to remount in the middle of the section. The boulders and roots bounced me all over the place and I couldn’t clip in. As a result, I prematurely separated from my bike and did a nice endo on the rocks. Not only did I have to do the chicken walk, I now had to do it with a bloody knee. Oh, the shame of it all! I remount cyclocross style and continue down the trail.
A half mile after Blood Rock, some guy tried to pass me on a narrow corner and hit my front fork with his rear tire, sending me into the bushes. To his credit, he did stop to see if I was okay.
The last miles to the finish are just steady pace to the line. I try to keep a medium/high tempo to hold my spot without chancing a washout on one of the dusty corners. I pass stragglers from other groups, but spend most of my time riding alone. Upon reaching the 1-mile marker, I start to hear the faint click, click of shifting gears in the distance behind me. Not wanting to take any chances, I quicken my pace and head for home. I can soon see the finish line through the trees and immediately feel relieved that it’s almost over. Making my final turn down a grassy hill, I sprint hard for the line in an effort to shave a few seconds off my final time.
I end my day with 9th place.
The highlight of the day came when I learned Betsy took first in her category.
My front fork with tire burns
Blood Rock
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