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