Nationals Racing - Masters 40-44 - Holy Mackerel

Freakin Fast - Sasquatch Messes Back

Having started cyclocross racing just two season previous I already knew I wasn't the fastest guy in the staging area, but I didn't know the half of it.

To set the stage my racing experience before last year was mostly road related racing. Lots of road races, time trials, some criteriums, essentially anything with skinny tires and lots of power. The word 'finesse' didn't exist in my cycling vocabulary. I owned a mountain bike, but it was from the late 80's and weighed more than my current collection of road bikes combined.

Anyone I have raced against knows I am more of grass crit races. My best races this year were COlumbus - fast, hard, dry - and Brookside - hard, dry, fast - and Louisville finale - cold, dry, fast, hard. All three of these had long straights with power sections. It didn't take a PHD in course conditions to draw a conclusion on my technical skills.

Fast forward to Oregon. I took a video of the pre-race and then again during the race and you can probably see that the availability of nice, long, grass highways was nearly non-existent. They were replaced with icy corners, wet, rocky s-turns, bumpy ground, and a descent that was making some guys wet their pants during pre-ride. I was not in my element. I probably would have been more comfortable doing a race on the moon, at least there my fat arse wouldn't take me down.

I got ready for the race, lowered my tire pressure to as low as I thought I could handle and set my goals for the race. My goals were very modest:
1) Don't break anything on my body
2) Ride the hill at least once
3) Ride as far as I could without getting lapped
4) Have fun

Goal #1 nearly got destroyed within 10 seconds of turning a crank. I was going to try Joe's theory, but didn't have the eye of the tiger today - which may have actually saved a bone in my body. 192 riders starting at the same time is quite an event. I had just gotten started when I smelled burning brake pads on carbon rims - a scent that doesn't bring happy thoughts. I saw the wreck and slammed my brakes on just in time. Word is paramedics were called and at least one rider never made it to the official start line.

Once that cleared I got down to business. The first lap was an expedition. I rode the course previously, but at 7:30am, with a fresh layer of snow on the ground. Now, in race conditions, the course was way different. The snow had melted in most places and everywhere was wet. You couldn't tell what was icy and what was water. Every corner was an experiment, especially for a guy without good technical skills.

I finished the first lap and tried to make the 2nd one better, which was successful. I didn't have to run/walk as much and rode the freakin runup - felt like a stud, stuck out my tonque and then rode down the descent like I was on a big wheel. So much for being a stud. Overall the second lap was pretty clean. I was slow in the corners, but had some power. I hadn't gotten lapped yet and based on the announcer I was still in pretty good shape to keep going.

I put in the 3rd lap, but got a bit slower than the 2nd lap. I was starting to catch and pass some folks, but when you slow down to grab a dollar from Sasquatch you have to readdress your priorities. I tried to grab a dollar the previous lap, but it was a trick and Sasquatch was messin' back as he had a death on the buck. This time through I grabbed the dollar and shoved it in my back pocket. Need to frame that sucker.

I almost rode up the hill the 3rd lap, but was in a poor gear. Got bogged down right at the top. I again rode the hill like a toddler on a big wheel and kept going. I could sense the leaders breathing down my neck. I made one last effort to stay in front of them and made it through the finish line without being lapped, maybe I can get a 4th lap in.

I got about 1/3 of the way through the course and this guy starts yelling "coming through". At first I thought to hell with him, but then I realized it was a leader of the race. Can't hold him back, that wouldn't be fair. The last thing I needed was for someone to be injured by a lard butt from Ohio and take them out of the race. I got over, let them through. Unfortunately there were several officials throughout the course and they started pulling anyone that was lapped.

So I got about 3.5 laps before being lapped and pulled. At first I thought I would be mad if I got pulled, but then I started to realize the quality of rider passing me. I was in a race with guys that weren't just national champions, but world champions. John Tomac was in my age group and in this race - and he lapped me. I was in way over my head.

So, I took my time and let a lot of folks pass getting off the course. They froze results in the order in which you were on the lap you got lapped, so it didn't matter if I kept riding. I stopped to take it all in - this was awesome. The crowd, the scene, the course, the level of competition, everything about it was amazing.

I have a new goal for next year - 4 laps.