Night Cross: Race Report #7, 11/17/12

Cyclocross Race #7

Saturday, Nov. 17, 2012

SY Jackson Middle School; Albuquerque, NM

Night Cross! Night Cross was my first ever cross race last year on my trusty hard-tail Breezer. I was definitely looking forward to trying it this year on my ‘cross bike.

So here’s the scoop with Night ‘Cross. It is against regulations to have any lights on the bike; the first year Kirk raced it, we’d intended to put this big light array on his rear wheel which creates different shapes as the wheel spins – but found out it wasn’t permissible. Instead, the course is lit with those huge lights such as the ones road crews work under when working at night. They are pretty powerful, and the only section that was a little dark on the course was the turnaround at the top of the school driveway. Other than the optical illusions the blue color of the tape caused the visibility was good. The blue tape was a problem for me; several times I thought the tape was further away, or continued straight when in fact it was straight across in front of me marking a turn.

Ramleen covered the two morning classes so we wouldn’t expend it all before we even left town; we worked at the shop until about 3 then headed to ‘Burque. It was nice out, mild as the whole winter has been so far. Nonetheless I had an overflowing backpack of garment choices, determined not to repeat my Cuba clothing mistake.

We got there as the juniors were racing. That let us see the course with riders on it; this is helpful in determining the direction you ride on certain sections, and if you follow one rider you get a sense of the course overall. It appeared to be pretty similar to last year, except there was more in the bark mulch under the swing sets (there was just a single crossing of it last year), and the deep short “sand box” (probably a tether ball area) was completely eliminated this year. Last year’s course included riding off and back up quite a few concrete lips and curbs; most of those were taken out this year. Fine by me; that was my only concern as I haven’t mastered lifting the front of the cross bike (something I find much easier, if only psychologically, with a suspension fork).

Although it was warm I still donned a long sleeve base under my SpinDoc jersey and full leg warmers tucked under my SpinDoc shorts. At least I could wear ‘kit;’ last weekend was so cool I wore a long-sleeve jersey, not even my SpinDoc stuff. Kirk and I got to pre-ride about ¾ of the course . . .then it was time to line up. Little did I know that Tove, on her pre-ride, had gone over her handlebars after hitting a hole in the grass (possibly a sprinkler, we don’t know) and had sprained her hand. She was at the starting line for the Cat. 1/2/3s, so I was none the wiser.

Anne Keener, however, still was recovering from her injuries from Cuba and remained on the sidelines.  I didn’t get a chance to talk to her, but it was great to see her manning the chili cook-off and wave.

The start was my norm, not really getting much of a jump on it, but picking up some speed – enough to not get dropped – as I made my way up the initial parking lot section over speed humps and speed bumps. Just like last year, a sweeping mini-roundabout turned us back towards the grass, and a fairly straight entry onto the grassy field enabled you to keep up quite a bit of speed. I took that segment of each lap faster and faster, once kind of forgetting until the last moment that it ended in a right turn. The right turn led up a short little climb, steep enough to force you to quickly shift down one or two, into a tight switchback and a return down to the main section of field.

Back and forth we crossed over the field, eventually taking another climb back up, steep enough that I often had to stand as I rode up to maintain any speed. That led to the bark section, winding in between rows of swing sets. The first time I tried to ride it. I was right behind a lady named Maripat, also a Masters 50+ racer, and a Cat. 4 rider. I did okay until the first switchback in the bark, and went too wide into deeper stuff, losing time and struggling to get going again. I finally did, but was stuck behind the Cat. 4 rider and saw Maripat pulling away from me.  The second switchback in the bark resulted in even further delays, and I finally got off and ran my bike the third leg of the bark, remounting once I was back on blacktop. From there a quick diagonal cut took you to the bottom of a run-up, wide shallow stairs that led up to an easy switchback on concrete at the base of the school building.  That u-turn put us back on grass on a long straight run, off-camber, with switch backs, the middle of the three pretty tight (but I made it on every one of those!). The last dumped you on a bit of concrete, and was a good place to spin it up while catching your breath.

The next segment caught me off guard several times, and actually caused Kirk a get-off: from the concrete we turned left to a u-turn around a tree with some surprisingly stable sand underneath. The tricky part was the line of blue tape marking the turn. As dusk fell it was harder and harder to see. The first lap I nearly rode straight into it, missing it altogether until the last second and making the turn. From then I always warned myself it was coming yet it still often caught me by surprise.

Another couple switchbacks on grass brought us a dicey soft sand switchback that I never managed to navigate without at least a foot down. Another stair run-up took us back to the upper level where the bark was, but you immediately turned right and rode another couple of tight switchbacks, heading back down the hill we’d just gone up via the stairs. More and more switchbacks – another sea-sick course – finally took you past the second side of the pit and to the barriers.

Kind of hard to get a clear photo in the dark. . .

Ah, but there was more! After jumping the first pair of barriers, you rode past the finish line, took a left into a sand box (possibly a long jump pit?), jumped another barrier, and then jumped up onto a concrete curb that must’ve been at least 12” high. That was one of the two hardest points for me. Not only had I always knocked my pedals into the wrong position for a quick remount and start, but I was simply tapped. From there we picked back up on the start in the parking lot with the speed humps and bumps.

I think it was towards the end of lap two that I caught back up with Maripat. I had gotten to the bark and decided it might be faster for me to run the whole thing. I rode it to the first switchback, then dismounted and ran the rest. It definitely proved quicker for me. My transitions to the stairs were uniformly fast and smooth; my dismounts have improved quite a bit, and I never had a problem moving into picking up the bike and running. The top of that first set of stairs was the other heavy breathing point for me, and a couple times fumbling for the pedals while trying to catch my breath cost me some time.

But I was closing in on her, and knew it. On that last straight away through the finish line leading to the sand box/second barrier I passed her, made the barrier just fine, but was caught and re-passed as I fought for breath and my right pedal on the concrete. Starting lap three, however, I passed her for the last time and held my gap. I said something silly as I passed her, something about a ridiculous moment back there where I was unable to get rolling, but she didn’t respond.

I pulled off, and subsequently rode each lap faster with three more to go. It was a surprise when they said three more, and I wondered if I could keep it up. I did, though, and had a great race, even back tracking a couple steps where tape had gone down and I missed a switchback. (I didn’t wanna be disqualified if I missed part of the course by accident, but I couldn’t tell where it went once the section of tape went down. I saw a Cat. 3 rider properly navigate the original course even without the tape up, and followed her lead to correct myself.)

After the race I was heading off to change and was stopped by Anita, who I hadn’t seen since last year. I believe she is racing Cat. 4, but this was only her second ‘cross event for the year. It was so nice to see her, and we chatted a moment. The ‘cross community is so friendly; it truly is one of the reasons I ventured into it at all last year. I remember Anita well from my first race. She was next to me at the start line, and was so nice and calm although it was only her second ‘cross race.

I learned after the race about Tove’s pre-race get-off. It’s amazing she raced, her fingers already swelling and unable to get a good grip on the handlebars – much less the brakes. She did, though, and after some TLC over the next couple days the swelling subsided and mending began.

Time for the Men’s Cat. 1/2/3 race, and I was requested to help score both that race and Kirk’s.  As always, those guys rode so fast, and as their race runs a full hour it makes for a LOT of laps. The race leaders were clocked at six minute laps, and if they slowed down as they raced it didn’t show. I just take down numbers as they pass, so am unable to really keep up with lap speeds.  The two duking it out on the front are the same two that usually are: like Kirk and Jimmy, the Cat. 1/2/3 is usually a match between a young junior and a probably early-30s-aged racer. Night ‘cross had an announcer who was familiar with many of the Albuquerque-based riders, and did an excellent job of commentating the races as they progressed. Down on the field, we couldn’t see anything up on the rise where the bark section was, but I was happy to hear from the commentary that pretty much all the Cat. 1/2/3 guys were running the bark, like I had opted to do. Cool! I’d made a real-time strategy decision that not only worked for me but was ‘confirmed’ by the more experienced riders.

Then the Masters 50+, Single Speed and Cat. 4 guys lined up. It looked like a pretty big field; from where we were at the finish I couldn’t see Kirk nor tell the order they were starting in. I hoped it wasn’t Cat. 4s first – we know that doesn’t work so well. Thankfully when the first group of racers took off I could tell it was the Masters 50+ guys because I could see Kirk in the bright yellow SpinDoc jersey with a huge lead from the ‘hole shot.’ (Generally one rider jumps off the start faster than anyone else, usually from a point near the center of the starting line up, but not necessarily; they just manage to hit that extreme power surge in such a way that they immediately pull out in front, which is called ‘getting the hole shot.’)

Since I was helping the USA Cycling officials score and was unsure of protocol, I asked if it was okay for me to root for my husband. With the okay, I starting hollering at Kirk who was holding the lead he had over Jimmy. Wow, what a race! Jimmy would close the gap a little, then Kirk would pull away again. The commentator was having a ball calling the race, and Kirk got yells and cowbells from all over the course. As I listened while scoring, I learned that Jimmy was riding most of the bark while Kirk was running most of it. Riding it didn’t seem to give Jimmy any advantage, and Kirk by running it didn’t risk losing time by unsuccessfully riding and ‘getting off’ in it.

It was such an exciting race! In lap three, somewhere I couldn’t see from the scoring/finish area, something happened; as Jimmy and Kirk came back into my view, Jimmy was in the lead. Later, I learned that Kirk had missed that piece of blue tape next to the tree. It becomes such an optical illusion: the tape looks further back than it really is, and he hit upon it going so fast that he skidded out and went down as he tried to suddenly make the right turn around the tree.

They rode so hard and fast, and had quite a bit of a lead over the rest of their race. Riders spread out more and more over the course as the race progressed, and eventually resulted in the leaders passing the last riders. After his get-off, Kirk had about 3 ½ laps in which to close the gap to Jimmy. On the last lap, Jimmy and Kirk each changed their strategy, which the announcer took great glee in discussing: Jimmy opted to run the bark, and Kirk decided he didn’t have much to lose in trying to ride it.

I don’t know what the gap was initially – maybe 20 seconds or so – but by the time they crossed the finish line, Kirk had brought the gap way down to 7 seconds or so. If there had been just one more lap, he might have regained the lead; who knows. It was a great, fast, skilled and fun race.

Night ‘cross will always remain one of my favorites. I’m already looking forward to next year!

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.

Cyclocross Race Report #5; Cuba, NM

Cyclocross Race Report #5
Saturday, Nov. 3, 2012

Cuba, NM

Race number 5; half-way through the NM series. We’re sure getting spoiled: the weather has been like eternal fall. I think of those racing in the northeast and the northwest, and think about how lucky we are.  It was chilly pulling in to Cuba, though. The thermometer on the truck registered 35º or something, and it wasn’t particularly sunny.  Although I had good layering options for racing I was woefully underdressed for the hanging out before and after part of the event. Luckily my travel companions were better prepared and even had extras to loan.

We got registered, and discovered we were an hour earlier than we needed to be; the schedule had been delayed an hour due to the extra drive time for most racers. That just gave us more time to relax, check out the course, and not be crazy-rushed as we so often are. Additionally, it gave more time for the sun to do it’s work and warm stuff up a bit!

I remembered this course. In some respects it seems the most “Belgian” as most of it is laid out in a pasture, complete with cow paddies.  There is a stretch of road, and a couple of short but a bit steep drops into a creek bed. Last year it had water in it; this year, the only water was off to the right side of the first dip.

Kirk read somewhere the statistics on gastrointestinal disorders in cross racers following a race on a pasture. The incidence of illness was very high. We joked about riding with our mouths shut to lower the chances of race-induced cow paddy illness!

Most of the course was like riding a road bike on a rumble strip: bumpy bumpy. Tove gave me some good tips and pointers, such as riding much of it hovering over the saddle, and rising out of the saddle coming out of the many switchbacks to stabilize the bike as well as give a bit of power and speed out of a turn. I was nervous about the second dip; the first one wasn’t so bad as long as you navigated the bike to the left at the bottom. If you overshot it, you went into the water. The second one, though, was steeper both down and back up, and had a sweeping right turn to it as well. The first pre-ride had me walking it; Tove and I went back shortly before race time to look at it, and I was able to ride it. Whew!

Lining up to race was casual beyond most races, and after the Cat 1/2/3 ladies took off we had a very unceremonious start when someone finally said, “Are we starting?” I wasn’t even with the Masters ladies, but was at the back of the pack. Oh well; it’s not like I’m racing! On the other hand, I didn’t want to get caught behind the riders who would be running the dips instead of riding them. I passed one or two on the pavement, but was still behind most as we hit the dips.

Right in front of me hitting them was Anne Keener, one of my co-masters racers.  On the second dip, she hesitated at the top, rode down, and got about half-way up the other side and somehow went over the handlebars in a spectacular jumble of body and bike. I immediately put my bike down and ran down the dip, as did the photographer that was stationed at the top. Anne was on her back, her bike on top of her and her legs intertwined. I think the right foot was still clipped in.  One of the juniors had stopped at the top, and I asked her to stand guard and warn any racers that came upon us that a rider was down. I wasn’t sure yet if we could even move Anne. We got her unclipped, extracted the left leg, and I was able to lift her bike off her. I still couldn’t determine the extent of any injuries, but it turned out she was mostly shocked and had the wind knocked out. I was relieved when she finally said she could get up; we each grabbed a hand, and carefully pulled her upright. At that point she told me to resume riding, so I left her in the hands of the photographer. I was amazed and impressed later to learn that she resumed riding herself, determined not to have her first DNF. Wow. What a trooper!!!

I hate the first lap anyhow; I spend much of feeling insecure about the course, my skills and wondering what the heck I’m doing, and is this really for fun? This one was no different.  By the second lap, though, I start to get into a groove, feel more confident, and am able to start sussing out where I can go harder, where I need to be extra focused, what parts are more challenging. I kept reminding myself to look through the myriad of turns, to keep my focus out, to hover over the saddle and apply power on the rumble strip of a race course. (Boy, had the race hosts worked hard on that course! They’d been out there with some kind of power mower, and hours of labor had been put in setting up and prepping that course.)

My second lap was the only one where I successfully rode both dips. After that, I had to run when someone in front of me did, or I didn’t have enough speed going into it to get up the other side and had to put a foot down to get over the top on the far side. I regained some positions, though, and eventually lapped Anne who was bravely making her way through the race. I too was lapped by the race leaders, cutting my race short by one lap. No complaints here!

And, thanks to attrition, I still came in second. I’m second in the state, too, but better start racing: the gal in third is not many points behind me.

I helped score the men’s Cat. 1/2/3 race, and then Kirk’s Masters 50+/singlespeed/Cat. 4 race. It’s not only nice to be able to help out, but it’s kinda neat to watch a race from another perspective.

The men’s Master’s 50+ race included a top racer down from Durango who gapped everyone by quite a bit. It was the first race I recall seeing where at least four riders were lapped twice by the leader. As always, those guys rode hard. It is impressive and inspiring to watch them.

On the last lap, coming in to the straightaway where the finish was Kirk clipped the last turn taking down the post, and – since he had a gap – taking his time to get situated and back on is bike to cross the line. Unlike most other forms of racing there is no timing chip involved; as long as you are ahead of the guy behind you, you are not “racing on the clock” and gain nothing by racing across the line. However, there is the occasional sprint to the finish when two racers are coming in at the same time, and they sprint to cross first.  Those are fun to watch.

The guys finished strong, Kirk in third and David in (I believe) fourth. We jettisoned out of there pretty quick as I had a show that night. As always, fun was had by all!

Post Script:

One of the juniors sprained a shoulder at that race; we hope he is doing okay. Anne’s tumble took more of a toll: her left shoulder is sprained, her right knee is in a brace, and the left may have a torn meniscus. She is getting an MRI on Monday, so we’ll know more then. Speedy recovery. Anne! All that, and she still finished her race. And hopes to ride Night 'Cross on the 17th. . . 

Cyclocross Race #4: Bosque 10/10/12

Cyclocross Race #4

Sunday, Oct. 10, 2012

On the Bosque, SW of Albuquerque

When I saw that Race #4 was at the Bosque, I knew what lay ahead. I remembered it well from Kirk racing it last year. About half of the race venues have a distinctive feature which makes them very memorable. The Pojoaque Wellness Center has the uneven rock stairs. The Bosque race features a very steep, loose sandy and rocky run-up. I remember standing at the top of it last year with Reyna, urging racers on, bikes on their backs as they ran up. Yeah, I knew exactly what we were in for.

I thought this was going to be our first really cold morning, but it wasn’t so bad and warmed up pretty quickly with the sun. We got to the Bosque with plenty of time to pre-ride most of the course, and what little I didn’t preview was a known entity: the run-up. No question as to the best strategy to tackle that one with!

The bulk of the course consisted of powder sand reminiscent of Polk Elementary and hard packed dirt. The sand on the Bosque was in the trees and generally not as deep as Polk, making them pretty navigable. The laps were long, though.

After the juniors, it was my turn. Many of the usual gals didn’t make it, so all three groups were small. To my interest, however, US mountain bike champ Nina Baum was there to race in the Cat. 1/2/3 women. (To read a brief bio on Nina, click here: http://notubesracing.com/womenselite/index.php/team-members/nina-baum/)  Although I knew I’d be left in the dust (literally!) I would have loved to ride behind her, watching, trying to copy, trying to follow her line. My only real hope was not to have her lap me in my first go ’round!

I decided to try to take off stronger than I usually do, and was all revved up to really race. It seemed a course where I might have some advantage as the sand was ride-able, and I’m pretty steady and faster than many on a run-up. The masters 50 women only had three takers so, as we lined up, Kirk hollered out that we all looked good for a podium spot. I didn’t recognize one of the women, and the other was Sheila, who always takes the first, so I figured I had a good shot at the silver. 

We took off, and I pedaled hard down the short packed straightaway holding my own while Sheila took off ahead of us. Taking a left turn we hit the first bit of shallow sand. Snaking right, then left, a right hander took us in a u-turn around a single very large tree under which lay some of the deepest sand, littered with sticks and leaves. On the first turn around the tree, my rear wheel went out from under me so much that I had to put a foot down.  Resuming, I saw the other rider in my group pulling away, and I pedaled hard to catch her. A little hard pack let me gain some momentum before I hit more sand. In some places there was a clear line showing where the sand wasn’t as deep or was more passable; in others the many grooves in the sand made it clear there was no “best line” to take.  Making my way through I hit another easier patch and put on a bit more speed again, still in my quest to catch and overtake the other woman.

More deeper sand heading into the maze of trees and whomp! No warning, I’m flying over the handlebars. I don’t remember anything – it happened so fast – I don’t remember how I landed, or getting up – but I recall a couple ladies behind me, passing me asking if I’m okay. I’m trying to figure out why my bike won’t move, why the front wheel is stuck. I’m about to throw it on my shoulder for my first ever run to the pit when I noticed a very short, thick stick barely sticking out from between the rim and the fork. I wiggled it out, and was relieved to find nothing more was amiss.

I jumped back on, but felt like the wind was knocked out of my sails. Now every bit of sand seemed harder to navigate, the winding through the trees was slow and I just knew short thick sticks lurked everywhere under all that sand. I was determined to simply finish, but I didn’t really want to finish last. Yet every time I had to put a foot down, or my back tire went out I wondered what the heck I was bothering for. It was a drag, and I spent the rest of the first lap trying to muster up some enthusiasm. Passing the pit on the first side took me out to a challenging 90-degree hard right up a sandy berm to a left turn into a sandy roll-down – the first part of that sequence was much more challenging than the roll-down which looked tenuous but was very manageable.

That led to something of an anomaly in ‘cross: a long straight length of packed dirt. Another left turn back down a mild slope led back into more sand, more switchbacks and more trees. Passing the far side of the pit to a u-turn around another tree brought some sand respite with a bit of packed dirt and emergence from the trees. Yay! No more sticks.

Heading around the second tree.

A right turn took us onto the last sandy stretch, and probably the most challenging. (On my last lap I saw one of the Cat 1/2 ladies slow considerably into that sandy right turn, which made me feel better. It’s not just me that slows down a lot heading onto the sand. When I talked to her later, she said she’d had two hard get-offs and, by the time I saw her, was proceeding with caution.)

Back to my first lap, I had a rough time on that last bit of sand. I was still out of sorts from my tuck-and-roll, and instead of struggling through the turns got off and rolled the bike a bit. I wasn’t racing any more, so what the heck. Glad I did so: I looked down, and saw an 18” long piece of heavy steel waiting to cause an accident. I picked it up – it was heavy – and threw it off the course. From that last sand strip it was pretty much all hard-pack past the run up, into a u-turn, down a sandy but manageable descent and back to the foot of the run up. I didn’t bother to run up it, at least the first time. I shouldered the bike, and kept moving but didn’t hoof it. At the top I remounted on gravel, and a mild down slope set you at the top of what, for me, was the most unnerving sandy descent. I rode it every time, and from there it was hard pack straightaway to the start/finish line to start Lap 2.

On lap 2 I gained a bit more confidence, and decided I really didn't want to finish last. Where comfortable, I tried to increase some power and speed. I rode all the sand under the trees, got a bit more of a feel for the dicey parts, and must’ve made up some time (even running up the run-up this time) as by lap 3 I passed a few Cat. 4 riders. I too got passed by Nina and several other Cat. 1/2 ladies – so I knew I would only be doing 3 laps total. That worked for me! Tove passed me heading into the last stretch of sand, so I stayed as close on her wheel as I could, and she called some tips as we rode: put a foot down here in the turn and throw the bike around it, then keep riding; take the outside line coming out of the sand there. It was awesome.

I did in fact avoid coming in last, but couldn’t exactly say I’d had a fun race.

Back at the truck I changed into civilian clothing so I could pit for the guys. Meanwhile, the Cat. 1/2/3 guys were racing. Like the women’s race, it included a notable: Travis Brown, an inductee into the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame in 2006 was there to race (see http://www.mtnbikehalloffame.com/page.cfm?pageid=6&memberid=156).

More or less on time the guys lined up to start: Kirk, David, Chip (one of SpinDoc’s ‘cross converts, out for his third race), and Peter, a friend of Tove and Jerry’s trying his hand for the first time. Randy, one of Albuquerque’s racers, was there, and we met a young man named Andrew who was racing under his employer’s kit, BTI (one of the biggest US distributors of bike parts who happens to be here in Santa Fe, and a frequent stop on the SpinDoc errand route). Tove and I headed to the pit nestled in the trees and sand as soon as the guys took off. Kirk and his chief competitor, a guy named Jimmy, simply duked it out for the first half of the race. Neck and neck, they pushed each other, but Jimmy finally got a bit of advantage on a switch back through the sand. It was fun to watch all the racers and cheer them on; I cheer everyone I know, and many I don’t. It’s such a help when you’re out there!

Tove heckling the guys: Kirk nearest Tove, then Chip and David

At one point David was heading towards the pit calling that he had a flat. I’d been holding Kirk’s “B” bike, and in the smaller-than-usual pit had to find a spot to quickly put it down and grab my Breezer hardtail for David. He’d never done a hand-off yet did a pretty quick transition. Meanwhile, I had help getting his rear wheel off and putting the spare wheel on, and then pumping the one that came off to see if the sealant inside could fix the flat. At the same time, I continued to watch for Kirk if needed to pit. When David came back around, we had his cross bike ready for him to switch back to. That run-up was painful with a mountain bike! He was happy but surprised to be able to jump back on and finish on his cross bike.

Jimmy chasing Kirk 'round the second tree in powder dirt 

All the while, Kirk had continued to gain on Jimmy again. He went from a 25 second gap to a 17 second gap and, by the time they crossed the finish line, Tove said it was a 9 second gap. Wow. That’s a hellova ride!

Chip and Peter had a good race, and ended up in a sprint against each other for the finish. We thought Peter was gonna get it, but Chip put his head down and crossed first. It was fun to watch. I think they both had fun – at least when we saw them, they were both grinning.

But then that’s cross!

NM Cyclocross Race Report #3

Cyclocross Race #3

Sunday, Oct. 7, 2012

Polk Middle School, Albuquerque

Cross race number three. . .already! We almost didn’t make it though. It was an early wake-up, and the bed was awfully cozy and warm, and it looked cold outside. It was one of those mornings when it would be really easy to fall back into a deep sleep in spite of an alarm clock wake-up. After about 20 minutes of debate, we got rolling.

Polk was one of the first cross races I did last year on my mountain bike. I remember it well as there was a patch of snow on part of the course (it was one of the last races of the season last year). The course was totally different this year, featuring a crazy amount of powder-fine sand. I keep comparing it to the difference in texture between powdered confectioner’s sugar and salt – one is powder, the other granules. This was more akin to powdered sugar than salt!

Due to our tardy arrival I didn’t get to pre-ride the course. My racing pals Ann Keener and Tove talked me through some sections, describing which line to take, where it was dicey, what was ride-able and what wasn’t. The younger juniors started their race, and Tove led me to one front corner section and, when no kids were coming, we jumped onto it to ride a challenging section.

Then it was race time.

We took off with 10 seconds or so between groups, speeding off along a wide concrete path behind the school. A round-about much like a traffic circle led to a straight-away heading to the street and a wide u-turn. Racing back up half-way, the course then turned left into some fairly deep sand leading to the two barriers. After jumping the barriers, the surface changed from soft sand to grass as you rode along a fence line below trees to the back corner of a ball field. The tree roots growing under the grass made for surprise bumps, some pretty big if you hit them at speed. Behind the ball field were a few switchbacks, but all were easy to ride. Riding out from the corner I found you could get up some real speed, even on the grass – especially if you stood and pedaled. It was a great place to pass.

Then came the sand. Lots of it. Powder sand. It was piled higher and seemed softer on the right, as if someone had started to shovel a path on the left, slinging the sand to their right. I didn’t even try to ride it, although perhaps I should have. I dismounted at the beginning, and ran the left side, rolling the bike along next to me (or picking it up and holding it, but I never bothered with shouldering it).

Turning right you ran down a little gully edged on both sides with piles of soft deep sand. Up on the other side, though, I found I could remount and ride as the sand was much more packed. Even though we had a little 18-inch soft sand drop again, I learned I could ride it as long as I didn’t try to turn or break going down it. Instead, I rode in a straight line, coming out on the far left side of the course at the bottom, which again was packed sand. There, if you had the energy, you could again get some good speed. That was the spot on this course where I asked myself what the hell I was doing. There is one of those spots on each course, where you consider bailing and getting a DNF.

Riding up another soft sanding lip (or for me, riding it as far as I could, then putting a foot down to push myself the rest of the way up) set you upon another length of packed sand to this course’s nuttiest feature. (Tove’s comment was this course was a little circus-esque for her tastes; that sums it up quite well.) In the middle of a large flat of semi-packed sand was a spiral; you rode around the spiral, tighter and tighter as you got to the middle, at which point there was a tight little ‘S’ which turned you back to spiral out. For me, it was a matter of really focusing out ahead of myself, and slowing down as I got into the center and the circles got smaller.

Here too is where a strategy decision had to be made. Although I couldn’t ride the ‘S’ turn in the middle, I kept trying. Sometimes I was able to make my way around with a foot down, and then resume pedaling – other times I think I got off for the second part of the turn. Either way, it wasn’t particularly fast. In watching the men’s races later, I noticed they ALL got off before the first turn into the ‘S’, and simply ran the whole thing, jumping back on their bikes to spiral back out. I suspect it was much, much faster.

After the spiral, one raced back out along packed sand and past the pit, up another soft lip and onto a small bit of pavement. That led to the one dicey area Tove and I pre-rode, and that Ann gave me so much info on. One rode down a sandy and rocky short descent into a ditch. If you rode up on the right, out of the ditch, it was solid earth and very stable – it just looked scary as it was off-camber. It lowered back into the ditch, and although you could ride back up out of the ditch, the course circled behind a tree surrounded by deep power sand. I asked later, and no one was able to ride around the tree.  Returning to pavement, you also rode back to the start/finish line to start lap two. Yipes; lots of sand time per lap!

As always, my first lap was my worst lap.  By lap two I settled down. I found I could really speed around the traffic circle, with the bike more leaned into the turn than I have ever ridden before; I could ride the sand up to the barriers; I could easily ride the switchbacks on the grass, and pick up a lot of speed on the grass straightaway leading to the sand. I was faster running the sand than some, and was able to pass there. It was the spiral that got me – I was pretty slow going round and round, and the ‘S’ turn in the middle was like a thorn in my side. On the corner with the ditch, I rode the off camber dirt each time starting with lap 2, which made me happy. I always tried to ride around the tree, but did pretty well remounting and “keeping it rolling.” On lap four, I had determined that Tiziana, our NM National Champ for her age group, was the race leader. If I was passed by her, I would be doing one less lap. She was close behind me in the spiral, so I called out to her to pass me, please! She hollered back, “Don’t go so fast!” It made me laugh out loud as I felt like a snail going in circles.

I was surprised later to learn that I’d come in second of my group out of four.

With the current schedule, we have about 1½ hours between my race and Kirk’s.  Not long enough to go anywhere or do anything other than hang out and wait. SpinDoc team rider David Sammeth had arrived by then, and upon a test lap on his cross bike he asked if he could ride my Breezer hardtail for his race instead. Mountain bikes definitely had an advantage on this course. His cross bike became his pit bike, and the Breezer became his “A” bike. Kirk had his Lapierre for his main stead, and Tove and Jerry’s BCD as his pit bike.

Watching the Men’s 1/2/3 race, it was clear that the best strategy for the ‘S’ turn was dismount and run the whole thing. Dang, I wished they raced before me so I could glean those things before I rode! Jerry rode with this group instead of the Masters Men as he had to leave. I asked him later how that was, and he said it was great; he could follow behind a rider, taking his same line, following his lead. They are so skilled and smooth, it made for an easier, informed and very fun ride for him.

Kirk and David and the other Masters Men lined up, with single speed and Cat. 4 riders behind. They all took off like a shot, racing up to the right turn leading into the round about. At the barriers they had started to spread out a little, but there were still a large number of riders grouped together. When they hit the spiral, it created a cloud of dust that engulfed the riders. No wonder Kirk coughed for hours afterward! 

The more experienced masters riders all got off and ran the ‘S’ turn, but some of the less experienced Cat. 4 guys did as I had, and tried to ride it. As I was working the pit, I didn’t get to see how they did at the ditch and sandy tree segment. Turning around, I could watch – and holler – as they all rode past on the start/finish straight-away.

I had warned Kirk that the tree roots would be an easy chain drop location, and was happy to hear he had none of those issues on this course. As a matter of fact, none of our riders had mechanicals that day, although someone was always in the pit just in case. Just good clean – okay, good sandy fun. That’s ‘cross!

Cyclocross Race #2, 9/29/12, Pojoaque

Cyclocross Race #2

Sunday, Sept. 29, 2012

Pojoaque Fitness Center, Pojoaque

Race number two! Although I didn’t attend the Pojoaque Fitness Center race last year, I remember it vividly from the first year Kirk raced cross. It would be hard to forget due to one unique feature: much of the course centers around a football field (as many do), but this includes a two flight run-up of uneven stone steps overlooking the field. One doesn’t forget that quickly, even if one didn’t actually run it with a bike on their shoulder. Those steps loomed large in my head as we drove to Pojoaque.

We were donating coffee and bagels as part of our sponsorship of this year’s season, so we picked up bagels from NY Deli (too expensive and only okay) and 2.5 gallons of coffee from the DeVargas Starbucks (cool! they goofed and gave us the 5 gal instead! Not cool! The lid doesn’t seal any more, and coffee sloshed out from under the lid the entire drive up.) It was beautiful, clear and a little cool as we pulled in to the Fitness Center.

The course was open for pre-ride, so Kirk and I set off on our bikes to ride it through a time or two. It started with lots of snaking switch-back on the grassy football field, and the grass was wet from the prior day’s rains. And I mean wet. Wet grass sucks the energy from your legs; it’s kinda like mud, not as dicey as sand. Switchbacks on wet grass made for slow going, at least for me.  The first set dumped you out on the running track around the field, so that was a great place to pick up some speed and/or pass, before re-entering the grass for more switchbacks on the other end of the field. It was even wetter at that end; some water even pooled in some areas.

Those switchbacks led you to a long straightaway still on the field, running next to the section of track you’d just zoomed up. A third set of switchbacks (including one really tight double switchback) let to the set of barriers, a third pass up the length of the football field to the last set of switchbacks, entrance back onto the running track, and the last easy bit of fast riding on the course. Exiting the track and navigating a switchback to the left too you to the stairs.

To my relief (and dismay) there was only one section of stairs included in this year’s race. At the top of the run-up, one jumped back on the bike and headed off to the right on dirt, to a slight descent, through some deep gravel, and onto a packed dirt road. From there you began to climb. It didn’t seem so steep…at first. The climb led you up to the Pueblo Governor’s house, past his driveway, and then a descent down the back. A right turn on gravel led to a short little climb, a descent and back onto black-top, and a 90-degree right turn into the Fitness Center entryway.

Passing the building there was a right-and U-turn to the parking area which sported a nice big puddle. I couldn’t tell how deep the puddle was, or if there was a big pothole in it somewhere, so although it was harder to navigate the climb up in the sharp u-turn, I always went to the far right to avoid the puddle. Later I learned it was faster and easier to ride the biggest part if the puddle as there were no unseen dangers lurking under the water. Oh well. Another 90-degree turn, this time to the left, took one past the second pit entry and back to the first set of switchbacks.

Whew. What a course! So much wet grass. . . .so many switchbacks, some of them pretty tight. . .then that climb on the back. . . none of it particularly unnerved me, I just knew I’d be slow on the switchbacks, and wouldn’t be aggressive on the gravel descent after the Governor’s house, especially hitting that right turn in gravel.

I did figure 8s in the parking lot while the 13-14 kids started the day of racing to keep limber and get my body moving into the turns.

At the starting line of my race.

We were up next: Women’s Cat. 1/2/3, Masters Women 50+, and Cat. 4 Women. This week I only lined up with two other Master’s Women. About 8 Cat. 1/2/3 ladies were ahead of us ranging in age from 16 to 60. About 10 Cat. 4 gals where behind us, many of them first or second time racers. The first group went off, and we were 15 seconds later. I watched the other two gals take off, and I felt like waving and calling “see ya!” I just am not that fast off the line. . . but I usually make up for some of it during the course of the race.

The first lap is tough. I find myself apprehensive, and take stuff slow, and don’t fall into a groove at all. I remember passing Callum and Jerry at the finish line keeping score, and calling out, “This isn’t fun at all!” as I went by. From there up the stairs – not as bad I as expected ‘em to be – onto the dirt descent which felt a little dicier than I’d anticipated, ditto the gravel leading to the dirt road climb – the climb is one of my power points, so I pushed speed as much as I could on the climb, breathing really hard at the top.

On the long descent I coasted, hands on brakes at the ready, and certainly didn’t add any speed by pedaling. To my surprise it all felt very solid, and was a good place to catch a little recovery. I took the right hand gravel turn relatively slowly, as I did on the turn into the entry to the Fitness Center. The climb to the parking lot through the puddle took me off guard – much steeper and harder to navigate the turn to the right than I anticipated.

With lap two I started to settle into a grove, passed a few people, got passed by a few, and started to figure out tempos in different sections. However, coming down the straightaway on the running track and heading towards the soft dirt leading towards the bottom of the stairs I came across a toddler – about 3 yrs old if I had to guess – on the course, the mom standing off to the side. I was incredulous. I yelled at the mom, “Get her off the course! Either she’s going to get hit by a bike, or a cyclist is going to go down, and neither of those would be good!” I couldn’t believe it. Dogs on the course are bad enough. .  .but a toddler????

Finishing lap two, I came down the descent on the back towards the Fitness Center entry to see one of the Cat. 4 ladies on her side on the ground at the apex of one of the turns, with folks around her. By the time it was all said and done, she was taken off by ambulance with a suspected fractured femur and a good dose of morphine. Yipes. That wasn’t even a section I had thought twice about.

By the time I climbed the back for the fourth time I was deciding I wouldn’t mind if I got passed, which would cut a lap off my race. I couldn’t tell who the race leader was; I just knew that the person I had been playing “tag” with (I’d pass her on the climb, she’s pass be in the switchbacks on the grass – but then she was riding a mountain bike instead of a cross bike) was suddenly gone – we’d reached the bottom of the stairs and instead of heading up them ahead of me, she pulled to the side and let me go up first.  Sure enough I got around to the finish line and Jerry called me out, as I had indeed been passed by the race leader. I was done.

The littlest little kids went next. Some of their bikes are the same size as the kid! They go for it, too, many of them.

I volunteered to help score the next two races so that Jerry could race. It is initially a matter of writing down bib numbers as the riders race past, but when they come in bunches it gets challenging. Moreover, as riders get passed, or have a mechanical somewhere and you don’t know why they haven’t come back around it gets challenging to keep track.  It was fun to watch the race from a different perspective.

The Cat. 1/2/3 men were next. It was a large group. From the opposite side of the track, I heard a loud dense sound – it didn’t sound at first like a crash, but it was. A couple guys went down right at the start, so we assumed that someone had tapped another bike’s wheel. Later we learned one racer hadn’t gotten his foot onto the pedal and instead got it in his spokes, and went down. A fractured wrist sent the second racer of the day to the emergency room. Said racer is an orthopedic surgeon no less.

Those guys rode hard. They did the most laps of any group that day. Their race is an hour, and they must’ve done 7 laps. 

Right after they finished, Kirk’s group raced. As the last race of the day, they often have the most spectators which is fun. And they too go hard. They zipped from the start line on the track to the first stair run up, coming to the dirt at the base of the stairs like a bunch of hornets. Here most of them took a different tactic than I: I rode into the switchback at the bottom, then swung a leg over to dismount and run the stairs. The more experienced racers, however, dismounted before the switchback and were already heaving bikes onto their shoulders to do the run up – probably saving time over my method. There is so much strategy to cyclocross!

Two guys who attended our cyclocross clinic came to race and did a good job. It was fun to see Chip and Tom race, and to cheer them on. Congrats on your first cross race, guys!

I heard there was one more injury – someone got a deep enough cut on the chin to require stitches – but I never saw anyone that fit that description, so I don’t really know if that is true or not.

Kirk’s chain got dropped twice – hard bumps and putting down the bike hard can both cause the chain to jump off the chainrings. One time he was able to shift and pedal and get it back on; I assume the other time he had to put it on by hand. He still came in a strong second in spite of the mechanicals. David had a good ride, too, coming in third. Jerry however said he felt flat and not so great. I can relate; this course was tough with the wet grass, and I too never felt like I settled into a groove as I did the week prior. Tove had a strong, strong ride with, to my knowledge, no mechanicals or crashes.

In spite of all the injuries, the weather was great, the hail held off until we were done, and the SpinDoc crew had a darned good time. That’s ‘cross!

(We don't have much in the way of photos due to the fact that there are photography restrictions on the Pojoaque Pueblo; once we realized that, Kirk put the camera away. However, there are tons of great pics on the Dash for Life facebook page.) http://www.facebook.com/pages/DASH/258862347486719?sk=photos_stream

Cyclocross Race Report #1; 9/22/12

Cyclocross Race #1

Sunday, Sept. 22, 2012

La Cueva High School, Albuquerque

It was only two weeks before the first ‘cross race that Kirk realized we had double-booked our biking events: we’d planned on finally riding the annual Acoma Pueblo ride, something we’d always wanted to do, and it coincided with the season’s inaugural ‘cross race. Oh well. As one of the sponsors of the New Mexico series (we’re even on the t-shirts!) we felt it was important to be at the first race.

Interbike (the annual industry trade show) wrapped up on Friday and we spent Saturday driving back from Las Vegas, NV.  We spent Saturday night in Albuquerque to save the Santa Fe round trip.  Race morning was beautiful and cool (at least compared to Vegas, where the high each day was at least 100° -- although I know Santa Fe had a record high of 84° on Saturday). Having stayed in the NE part of Albuquerque, it was easy and quick to get to La Cueva High School, our youngest daughter, Lauren, in tow.

Racing age in cyclocross is based on what your age will be when the current year’s World Championships are held (this year’s is January 2013).  With my birthday being December 29^th, my racing age this year (while I’m actually 50) is 52. Huh? It’s because I turn 51 at the end of this year, but in January when Worlds take place, I turn 52. I try to look at it as an age advantage instead of premature aging!

Anyhow, my scheduled race time was 9:30. Kirk and I got to pre-ride the course together a couple of times before the juniors started their race. I remembered the location and so had a pretty good idea what to expect. There are only a couple of technical sections: a sandy but not steep descent that, if hit too fast might result in a crash into a stand of metal bleachers, that then turned left over some grapefruit-sized rocks; a steep short climb up around a tree that was fast becoming a slippery mud slope; and two off-camber switchbacks, the first steeper than the second. With this info in mind, the next task was sussing out my plan: if I couldn’t ride up around the tree, which was followed by the first off-camber switchback, was I faster running it all? Or climbing back on the bike and riding the short stretch in between? What if I couldn’t navigate the second switchback either? Then would I run the entire distance? Hmmmm.

When I rode three ‘cross races last year, I was quite content to take a spot at the back of the pack on the starting line. However, this year the groupings have changed, and my group (Masters 50+) races with the Women’s Cat. 1/2/3 and Women’s Cat. 4 (beginners)  – all the women except juniors. And this race had the highest ever entry of 32 ladies! The officials had us line up from most experienced to least, so my group was second to start, Cat 4 starting last. With nine Masters 50+, we were all on the starting line-up together. 15 seconds after the Cat. 1/2/3 riders started, we were off.

Right there on that first straight away I had to make a decision – only two riders took off for the “hole shot,” and most were already lagging. I decided it would be better to try to get out in front of the majority of them instead of getting stuck at the very first turn behind other bikes. My first “strategy decision” was a sound one.

I found a YouTube clip that someone took of the Men’s Cat. 4 race with a helmet-mounted camera.

(See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OU_6lhGRdUo&feature=em-share_video_user). If you watch the video, you’ll see that the course takes a sweeping right turn on a mild descent enabling you to get some good speed before you hit a running track. “Hit” is the operative word here: there was quite a lip at the edge of the track, and several flat tires were a result of hitting that lip hard. I looked down at my wheels expecting a flat each time I crossed it then buckled down to go as hard as I could on the track.

On the back side of the track there was a tough head wind; winding around the other end and back to where we entered, you hit a right switchback climbing up to the pit area, then circling back around yourself, and down past the end of the track. From there, that slippery sandy descent led to the bleachers and the baby-head rock garden. 

After the rock garden, you hit grass where the steep wet climb past the tree opened onto the two off-camber switchbacks. More grass, around another tree, and up towards the parking lot dumped you onto concrete and a five-stair run up.

The next section was the “puke point” – the hardest part, where you wondered what the hell you were doing this for and praying there was only one lap left to go. Up a false flat to a switch back, coasting down it (and hoping for some recovery) and another switchback climbing back up it led to a serpentine switchback section on the grass and to the two barriers. They are crazy to see in the video: you can’t see the rider get off his bike since the camera is on his helmet, and just see these two dark colored things appear under the bike. After racing around the back of a football field, you return to the start/finish area.

Racing with 31 other riders presents challenges: passing, being passed, getting around crashes, avoiding crashing yourself. I saw that Tove had had a mechanical of some sort, and I passed her as she was running with her bike towards the pit. Later I learned she had hit that lip onto the track and broken her carbon wheel; unfortunately that is a very expensive “mechanical.” She had a long way to go, too: all the way around the track and up to the pit.

When I finished the race, I figured I must’ve done it right as my chest hurt and I coughed for several hours afterwards. Kirk refers to that as ‘lung cheese.’ I felt good about my ride, and figured I was somewhere in the top half of the nine Masters ladies I rode with. I didn’t fall, I handled all my dismounts pretty well (although my remounts are terrible and slow), never got the climb around the tree or the first off camber switchback, but I did get the second one every time, and mastered another one by the end of the race. I admit I was quite dismayed at one point going past the start/finish where they post the number of remaining laps to see it went from 1 more to 2 more. . . . . . . .what? Are you kidding me? Oh well, someone messed up the lap count I guess.

Kirk and his group (also a new combination of riders, including Masters men 50+, single speed, and Men’s Cat. 4) raced at noon or so. Unfortunately, they were dispatched in a different order from my group. The women’s Cat. 4 went last; in the men’s race, they sent the Cat. 4 guys off first.  Fifteen seconds later you had the far more experienced (and often far more fit) 50+ riders catching most of the Cat. 4 guys. There immediately was a bottleneck at the first turn, riders jockeying for position.  Kirk had jumped on the hole shot, immediately getting the advantage of his group. The girls and I stood by the barriers to get photos as the guys went by: Kirk, David and Jerry were all racing together.

With Tove manning the pit we were free to take the role of photographers.  Our next position was down by the track. By now the guys knew the best tactic for the lip onto the track was to bunnyhop it (as a matter of fact, David had flatted on the lip during a pre-ride of the course).  We saw Kirk flying down towards the track on lap 2; I glanced down at my camera, and looked up to see him flying over his handlebars. I didn’t know until later what had caused his fall. He had bunnyhopped the lip, and a Cat. 4 guy on his left suddenly turned his handlebars to the right, and in order to avoid hitting him Kirk turned sharply and rolled his tire off the rim. He slid up the track on his back, but really got lucky: few broken bike parts, no broken bones, just impressive road rash on his right elbow and a stripe of rash down his back through his skin suit (but not even any mending for me to do!). The tire had rolled right off the rim rendering it useless, so he did the same run Tove had done a few hours prior.

Tove was ready in the pit, and he ran in, handed off his bike, and jumped onto the designated spare bike he was sharing with Jerry. While he pedaled off, Tove was already working on his “A” bike, getting the wheel off, finding a new one to put on it. By the time he got around, he was able to pit again and jump back on his Lapierre. It was amazing how much time he made up; his skills and fitness level are such that he simply eats up the course. I don't know how many positions he regained, but it was amazing to watch.

All in all, in spite of the crashes and flats (and broken wheels) on the track lip, it was a great first race of the series. I was surprised and pleased to learn I’d come in 3^rd of the nine ladies in the Masters 50+ category, and landed in the top ten of all women too. My fourth cross race ever, and the first on a cross bike, landed me on the podium. Wow. Kinda cool! Thank goodness for all that mountain biking this summer.

Kirk’s scrapes were so minor that no immediate bandaging was necessary, so bikes were loaded, kids loaded, and the last hour’s drive from our Interbike trip was undertaken. It was nice to be home, and a nice way to start the ‘cross season.  It’s easy to forget under those conditions how cold it’s going to be in December when the race starts at 9:30 AM. . . . Ah! Psychocross. Ain’t nothin’ like it.