Month of Mud - Brady's Run

Photo: Fred Jordan

Brady's Run - 13th place - Masters - 1:14

Master's category getting pretty big now. I remember years back, there would be only like five us that might do the whole series. Now the category has really grown. The downside? Master is an open division. So quite often I'm racing with guys that are in master's expert division in the WVMBA series. I really don't have a chance.

Be that as it may, again there were tons of people at Bradys. It was in the 50s early on, but warmed up perfectly. Trails were dry and fast.

Prologue lap I was in back third. Started up the first hill and moved more mid pack. Mark was right behind me. Hit the straight away not one second too late. Mark passed me here and gapped me a bit. Slowly I worked my way back up so that I was only two riders behind him.

We took a sharp right up the very steep hill that would dump us on top of the hill. I was feeling good, finally this hill was actually dry. I was pacing Mark pretty well until three different guys at three different places jumped off their bikes but did not clear the trail. Even though we were telling them that riders were behind them. The last guy was the worst as he stopped, picked up the front of his bike, and started spinning his front wheel listening for brake rub. Problem was, it's a very narrow trail! We all yelled, but too late, off the bike again.

By this time Mark was about eight riders in front of me. I knew I couldn't close the gap on the first lap, I had to wait and hope he blew up on the second lap.

Rode all the log piles, rode a very clean first lap. But still didn't see Mark. Started the second lap, and rode up the steep entry hill except for one very brief dab.

I started feeling good on this second lap. It actually helped that the experts started lapping us as their energy had me pick up my pace. I remember specifically going down one steep descent with an expert behind me, urging me on in a fun way. I was riding way faster than normal, and at one point shot off the trail laughing. Got back on track, and soldiered on.

Much too quickly I got on the final descent to the finish line, feeling I had some power left in the legs. It was good to finally have some power again. The days of rest and the cool temperatures were great.

Found Mark who only finished three minutes before me, but I felt like he must have had a good ten minutes on me. Mike R. finished soon after, he knocked 20 minutes off his time from last year, and his cleat pulled off from his shoe half way through! Shred had to do three laps, and he finished soon also. He looked like he really had pushed the pace.

Great reace, I cut 15 minutes from last year's time, but I remember not riding hard last year as I went out just to do the race I was already out of contention as I had two mechanicals in other races.

Next up - Grove City cyclocross

Month of Mud - Bavington

Photo - Mike Briggs

Bavington - 17th place Masters - :57 minutes

Most riders I've seen at Bavington. Weather was perfect, though a bit hot by my time. Bavington is a time trial, which I like except for the waiting part. But with me racing the day before, the wait gave me time to get a really good warm up.

Sooner than I expected, I was off. I rode super solid, but had not spark in the legs at all. Every time there was a straight away, I just couldn't accelerate. I would've done better with a 30 mile race than the fast 8 miles we did.

Regardless, never dabbed anywhere, rode the plunge easily (unlike last year where I wrecked). Ended up three minutes slower than last year.

I really did not train this year to be able to pull off two hard efforts two days in a row. But overall, it was a really fun race, good to see a lot of familiar faces.

Peanut Butter Festival - Bike the Wilds

18th place Masters - 1:57
Overall 11th in the 36-49 division.

What to do, what to do. The last race in the Bike the Wilds series was Saturday, and the first race of the Month of Mud series began on Sunday. Which should I pick? I know that I don't recover well, and doing two races in two days would mean I wouldn't do well in either. So what did I do? Yeah, chose to do both races anyway. My philosophy would be to put in a solid, not an all-out effort on Saturday, so that I'd have something left in the legs for Sunday.

The Peanut Butter Festival is held in New Bethlehem, and as you get close to the town you can smell peanuts. The whole town smells of peanuts. The Smuckers factory makes their peanut butter there, and if you have peanut allergies, this is probably not the place to live.

I pulled into the parking lot and registered. I could tell from the beginning that this was a well-organized race. Did a warm up, and got in line. The race began with a sprint down one of the back streets.

Races are interesting events. Often I think I go just to people watch. For instance, there's about a hundred cyclists all sprinting down this road, and there's a guy next to me on a single speed riding with no hands. He might as well have put a sign on his back that said, Look at me! Look at me! One slight bump, one unseen pothole, this guy could have taken out half the field. I guess it takes all kinds.

We leave the road to enter a cemetery and the singletrack. Had I realized the bottleneck here, I probably would've sprinted a lot more. But there I was practicing my track stands. We got to the first downhill, and I hear everyone yelling about a really steep descent. I see people dismounting. I get to the top of the descent, and laugh to myself. I'm clearly too far in the back of the pack, the descent is nothing.

We wind through some singletrack, and everyone's trying to move up in the pack. We're on some doubletrack, and I move over for a down rider. I hear, "Hey, pick a side and stay on it." Great, someone giving me advice on how to ride. Me: "Hey, there's a rider down up here and I need to get around him, but thanks for the advice anyway. Have a great ride." I guess it was better than yelling at the guy.

From here it was a mix of singletrack and doubletrack. Eventually we worked our way to the top of the ridges. There was one section we had to push up one of the steepest hills I can remember. But when you got to the top the view was spectacular.

After all that effort to get up there, it was a blast to ride the hilltops enjoying the view. Since my thought was not to go out, for once I was able to really enjoy the views, and spent some time talking to other racers.

I paced a singlespeeder until we headed downhill back into the woods. Hit a low point in energy here, and a bunch of people passed me.

After a while, and some gels, I got a second wind and started pushing pretty good. Near the end after another horrible climb, we bombed downhill back into town. The downhill was on a loose dirt road, out in the middle of some fields. I had a top speed of 39 mph, so I can only imagine how fast the experts were going.

I got back into town, and was riding with another guy. We were going pretty casual, until he saw the crowds cheering us in, and off he went. I chased. All the little kids were yelling, "up the hill, up the hill." What they should've been yelling was, "turn left, turn left."

The guy I was with went too far, and to slam on the brakes. That gave me enough notice and I was able to take a hard left and to the finish line.

The trophies were to be given out at the actual Peanut Butter Festival. So I cleaned up and walked down. It was really nice. Lots of food booths, and luckily I was starving. The trophies were given out on a little stage by the reigning Peanut Butter Queen.

Thoughts on the Bike the Wilds series: good vibe, grass roots, close to home, new trails, great volunteers, energetic course directors, need some lessons on how to mark trails, much too hot and humid, a lot of fun. I'll be back next year!

Overall I finished 11th in the 36-49 division.

Two Mile Run MTB Race

Bike the Wilds point series - 18.5 miles - 3:22 (you read that right)9th place masters

Two Mile Run marked the fourth race in the Bike the Wilds point series. The training I did for this one? Went on vacation for two weeks, came back home got in two lack-luster rides in the ridiculous humidity we've been having, and ate a lot. Not a training regimen I would recommend to the timid. Oh yeah, and add to my lack of recent training: 90 degree temperatures with an even higher humidity level.

I arrived at Two Mile Run park, and got settled in. Things seemed well-organized, and sooner than I was ready for, we were lined up for a 100 yard dash to retrieve our bikes. As we started running, I kept it at an easy jog. I've been to too many 24 hour races where the first racer blows up their legs in these kinds of starts.

My strategy worked out fine, I passed a lot of people on the first hill. I'm sure their heart rates were skyrocketing, as cyclists aren't usually know for their running prowess.

The double track hill finally turned into the woods for some nice singletrack. I continued to pass people here, thought not much room for passing. Soon, while pushing my bike up a hill in some serious racer congestion, I heard a bunch of yells of, "rider back!" I glanced back and saw a bunch of racers I knew to be the normal race leaders come flying up to us. Asked one of the guys if they had gotten lost, and he answered in the affirmative.

Seeing racers lost brought back to memory my last race where I was riding strong, got lost, and received a DNF (even though I put in more miles than most participants).

You see once you've been lost in a race, it messes with your head a bit. In any race thereafter, you find yourself looking constantly for markers. And if you don't see one every ten feet, you start to panic. Even when you do see all the racer markers, you start wondering if somehow you've taken a wrong turn and are going on the course in reverse, or just riding in big circles.

All of this was in my head while I continued to race. The course was good and bad. A lot of good single track, and tons of course markings. On the other hand, the course marking were overdone in certain areas, and much too infrequent, or just plain confusing in other areas. More on that later.

I was racing surprsingly well for the first eight or so miles. Then my legs started feeling the two and a half weeks off the bike. Kept up my hydration, popped enurolyte tablets like they were candy, and put down shots of gel as I could. Mentally I felt good, but my legs were heavy. I found myself walking a lot of hills that I would normally ride.

The good news though was, even though I had heavy legs and the heat and humidity were ruthless, I was able to just keep riding. I figured I would finish the race in about 2:30 - 2:45. Unfortunately, I couldn't locate my Garmin GPS, so I wasn't sure how many miles I had put in, but I knew according to my watch that I was not going to make my normal time.

This is where the getting lost at other races comes in. After I put in over two hours, I started doubting myself a lot, wondering if I was still riding the course in the right direction. Luckily I ran into a couple of riders occasionally, which helped me quite a bit.

It's funny how in a race, after the initial furied start, you just seem to see the same people for most of the race. And this race was no different. It seemed that I passed and was passed by three other riders for mile after mile. Two of the guys seemed that they could've been in my class, but I wasn't really sure. In fact, I believe one of the guys short-cutted the course. I remember clearly passing him, having chased him down for quite a while, and then miles later there he was in front of me. Did he cheat? Did he get confused at an intersection? Was he just trying to survive? I'm going with option three. I really hope he wasn't cheating, and for as slow as I was going, I passed him easily.

Towards the end of the race, there were three specific spots where the flagging was really confusing. Oh yeah, this is where I also located the ground bees nest. A lot of us were stung, and my sting was still hurting three days later.

Anyway, I figured out my way to the finish line with a horribly bad time. Wish I had had my gps to see really how many miles I put in. They either really underestimated the mileage, or maybe I got off track for a while, or maybe my legs were just made of cement.

Regardless, a bunch of people cheered as I finished. I really appreciated that. I made it back to the van, grabbed ice water and cold oranges and collapsed in my camp chair till the nausea passed.

Went on the race site the other day to see how my finish compared to everyone's (and to see if there were a lot of dnf's) only to see there was some type of controversy and they're thinking things through before the post results. I'm kind of in the dark as to the specific incident, but it will be interesting to see the fallout.

One more race left to the point series. Not sure if I'll be going, it will mostly come down to whether I'm in the top ten or not.

Shannock Valley MTB Race

15 miles (too many) and a DNF (more on this in a bit)

This was the third race in the Bike the Wilds race series. The race was to be about 12 miles long - but not the way I race.

I pulled in to the lot and talked to a couple of guys that had raced the course before. They said lots of climbing, and they were absolutely right. Lined up in the town of Rural Valley, and off we went right on time.

The race starts off on the road and quickly heads uphill. Unfortunately, the temperature was hovering at about 91 degrees. We probably did over a mile of pavement before hitting some double track, still heading up hill. Quick downhill, then into the woods, more uphill. That was the theme for the day.

Through the initial uphill I had made my way to the front third of the group. I was overheating quickly though. I had half my water bottle gone with in the first three miles. I was not going to have enough water. My other bottle was being used to dump on my head and down my back in an attempt to keep me cool. I felt like I was an iron furnace, just radiating huge amounts of heat. I'm pretty sure I have no ancestry from any hot weather locales. I am not made for hot summer riding - at all.

I was still mostly heading uphill, sometimes in cut fiels out in full view of the sun. Lots of riders walking their bikes up hills. I passed quite a few people on these hills, but also found myself pushing up some hills. I think I could've ridden them, but I'm sure I would have bonked hard.

After about eight miles, I felt like we were finally, slowly, heading back down hill. A couple of riders passed me, and they looked to be in my division. It was hard to tell as this division had a big age range. I chased them for a mile until I passed one of the riders. He made no attempt to stay with me. That left one other rider ahead of me. This was unfortunately my downfall.

We dumped out on to some gravel roads, passed some guy sitting on the side of the road all bloody. Emergency personnel with him, it looked like maybe he got hit by a quad? Not sure.

The rider in front of me was now not far away. I saw him start to turn left where the arrow pointed, but then he came back out on to the gravel road and continued on. I came to the same spot and saw the arrow pointed left, but then I also saw an arrow that pointed straight. No one else was around, and the rider I had been chasing for thirty minutes was riding away on the gravel road. I decided to follow him. This was where my mistake was. It seems someone turned that one arrow to follow the gravel road, not sure if it was kids or what. The worst part was as I continued on the gravel road there were all kinds of race markers pointing up on.

I shortly passed the rider and tried to to put some distance on him. As I was riding though, the trail seemed vaguely familiar. Then after a while I was absolutely sure we were on the same trail as earlier in the day. I came out at a paved road and stopped to wait for the rider behind me. As he came out he said what I had been thinking, that we had taken a wrong turn.

By this point we had put in 13 miles and the race was only to be 12 miles. So we called it a day and headed down the paved road to the finish. In the end I got in 15 miles in 90 degree weather. A great training day, a horrible race day. I really felt like I was going to have a decent finishing time. And the worst part of it all? The rider I chased down, he wasn't even in my class. Ah well, that's racing.

Two more races in the series to go, and we get to drop one race. I guess I know which race I'll be dropping.