Cross Race Report #6; Vietnam Vet's Park, Albuquerque

Cyclocross Race #6

Saturday, Nov. 10, 2012

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Park; Albuquerque, NM

I not only didn’t ride the Vietnam Vet’s race last year, but I didn’t attend it either. I had dance workshops that weekend, so while Kirk raced I was dancing. I do remember him having a fun and good race, though, so I was looking forward to it.

Friday night, for the second week in a row, was a late one for me. Saturday was our youngest’s birthday, and I knew it would be too much to head home from racing and make dinner and birthday cake. So I stayed up Friday getting a jump on the cooking. There is more to that story, but I won’t go into that here!

However, when the alarm when off at 5:30 I was certainly not interested in getting up. Instead, we got up in time to drive down for Kirk to race and for me to help with scoring. It was pretty chilly; just in case I took clothing with me, and made sure that unlike the prior weekend I had everything I could possibly want if I in fact got to ride. The seed had been planted by Tove: she too didn’t intend to race the women’s 9:30 race and told me that we have the right to race with the Men’s Cat. 4. Since I was committed to helping score, I wasn’t certain I would get the opportunity but was ready if I did.

Antonia called as we drove down, and I was glad to tell her we were on the way. On arrival, we scoped out the course (but didn't get to ride it) and I met the race officials scoring the race who I had not worked with before. Antonia said I should in fact race, so I quickly put racing gear on and then layered sweat pants and stuff over it.

The Cat. 1/2/3 guys started their race, and watching them I got a sense of the course. Lots of grass, lots of switchbacks. In between races I quizzed one of the young top racers, Antonia’s daughter Tiziana who provided some helpful insights.  Then we cued up.  It was a big field, and once again they re-ordered the start with the Cat 4 guys going off first, then single speed, then Masters 50+.  Makes it pretty hard for the Masters men, many of whom are much faster and more experienced than the Cat. 4 guys. They spend much of the race trying to pass. I stayed at the way back of the field, with every intention of just riding my bike at the back of the pack.

And we were off. We raced up the black-top parking lot, and turned right travelling behind some apartments on a slight down slope. A left turn quickly became a 180º switchback, across a sandy descent to a fast straightaway and into grassy switchbacks. So far, so good. The barriers came up pretty quickly on the course, and I took ‘em pretty easy and slow. From there you rode another fast straightaway turning right on some loose sand (which I took pretty slow the first time until I discovered you could really maintain speed and not feel like you were going down).  A left turn up a sandy slope looked intimidating at first but I quickly found felt surprisingly stable. Riding down the other side put you back on grass, shallow concrete gutters and a series of switchbacks.

Passing the gutter a second time brought you to another long straightaway, great for passing or pushing some power. When I had the energy I stood and pushed as hard as I could. More switchbacks and a second pass at the pit took you back out to the outer grassy reaches of the field and yet more switchbacks. Passing some Cat. 1/2/3 women watching the race, I joked that it was enough to make you sea sick; they laughed and agreed.

The last stretch of concrete waterway (most of which was dry in spite of earlier precipitation) involved riding down it; coming off a very short but disconcertingly steep drop – it seemed almost like riding off a curb had you turning immediately to the left; if you over shot it, the other side of the gully was even steeper and would probably cause a get-off. I hoped each time it wouldn’t happen, and thankfully it never did. Riding down the gully, you actually rode back up an almost identical dirt “curb” which at this point showed the signs of hundreds of bike tires crossing it. You had to catch it at the right angle however as it was immediately followed by a switchback to the right. The next pass over the gully had lips steep enough that I bottomed out each time riding over one, rubbing the bottom bracket on the dirt.

A few more switchbacks led you to the finish line, and up a final set of broadly spaced stairs. It was sanding coming in to them, and I was afraid I’d miss the get off and over-compensated with a ridiculously early dismount. That’s okay: I meet one of my goals, which was not to be passed by the race leader on my first lap. As a matter of fact, as I gained confidence and maintained (or pushed) more speed, I really felt I held my own and didn’t get passed by the race leader until 2 and a half laps or so.

This was a fun course for me; I even pushed harder on some of those sandy spots and more technical areas than I would have in the past. I passed one of the Cat. 4 guys (yay!!!) and almost passed a second. I put my sights on him too close to the end.

It was fun to race with Kirk, although I only saw him once when he passed me in the switchbacks before the barriers. Most of the guys made it easy, too, announcing their arrival behind me and choosing a section to pass that made it easy for us all. Only twice did a racer try to pass me in the middle of a switchback; once I simply held my line and he had to wait until it was feasible. The second time it was a line of four riders – in themselves a distraction – I cut the turn too wide, and it was easier for me to simply stop and let them pass. I certainly encouraged riders to pass me where it was practicable for us all, but when it wasn’t I held my line.

Kirk had a fun race, too, and once again gave his chief competition Jimmy a run for his money. The race officials didn’t signal the race leaders that they were done on their last lap, though, and about five guys (including Jimmy and Kirk) raced an extra unnecessary lap.

It was a fun, fast race. Then we drove home and had a fun, festive birthday party for Lauren.  Next weekend. . . Night Cross! Hopefully we’ll see you there.