how was your weekend?
Ever have one of those learning experiences? Like trying to chug a gallon of milk or letting your middle school track coaches convince you that the 2 mile isn't that bad. That was probably my first experience where I had girls show me how it's done. This weekend it definitely happened again.
I ventured up to God's Country for a fifty mile mountain bike race. Drove up in the dark with the sunroof down on Thursday night. Couldn't ask for better weather. Showed up to Ski Denton around 10:30pm and the gates were closed. This has happened to me before. I usually make last minute plans and decide I'll bank on being able to get into a campsite late. At the WVMBA Valley Falls Challenge, I thought Valley Falls State Park would allow camping. I got intimate with the bed of my truck that night. Thursday was slightly worse because Dad needed the truck last weekend. I drove the Accord up, fully packed. Fully packed means I was too lazy to empty the back seat to put the front seat down. So I spread across two seats with my back on the middle console.
Luckily the race wasn't Friday. I hiked around and made some lunch while wondering all day when everyone was going to show up. Lunch didn't settle well so I took a nap. When I woke, there were some guys setting up their tent. They took off for a ride and I decided that wasn't such a bad idea.
They had explained where the course from the previous year went, so I followed their directions and took off about 30 minutes later. At the top of the hill, whilst pedaling the rig through some atv/snowmobile trails, some wildlife decided to join me on the trail. The rest of the evening I was in sensory overload, flying from dense forest into open mountain top fields, all the while thunderstorms coming and going overhead. I got back refreshed and shared stories and beers with some awesome guys from Bean's Bikes.
Waking up the next morning wasn't too bad, and I felt refreshed at the start. Climbing the first 700 ft in the middle of the pack was good, for me. Once we reached the forestry building a nosebleed came spewing out like a volcano. There goes the right nostril. Who needs two to breathe from, anyway?
Met a guy shortly after named Jason, and we kept pace with each other for a while. That changed once we hit the fire roads. Never had I experienced such a disadvantage on a singlespeed than 60% fireroads during a race. I felt like I was in slow motion when we came out of the singletrack. After that I decided I was going to keep at my pace and finish. I caught back up on the downhill and made it to the first aid station right behind Jason.
After a quick PB sandwich and a banana, I was moving up a gradual fire road climb. Gradual was OK until it turned into a ski slope-like grade. I pushed as far as I could, but the settling food and lack of experience kicked in, and I had to do a little hike-a-bike to recover. Dropped into some singletrack and started to get my lungs and legs back.
The second aid station came up sooner than expected, and instead of being at mile 35, it had been relocated closer to 30. At the time, "No big deal," I thought.
Nearing what I guess was mileage somewhere in the early 40s, I caught up to two guys on the steepest climb I've seen on a bike trail. We were all hiking, and I rode with a nice guy in a DirtRag jersey and riding an X-Cal for a while. We overlapped an ATV section from earlier in the race, and his gears prevailed, letting him take off out of sight.
We had discussed our inevitable proximity to the end, but both of us had been far off. I crossed Route 6 alone, and ran out of water at nearly the same time. I rode about two miles and the lack of water started to get to me. My legs were spasming and my vision started to go. I rode out on the tame sections as long as I could, but once faced with anything greater than flat ATV trail, I got off. And stayed off...
I walked for about 20 minutes just trying to regain composure. Two riders passed. Then two more. Finally a guy stopped and offered me his Gatorade. I rode with Bill and another lady (I'm horrible with names, luckily she'll never read my blog) to the finish, about another 3 miles. His computer had said 52 miles when he passed me, so the race was a little longer than expected. I can't blame anyone, though, because I don't train and I don't eat right. We all finished just under 6 hours. I'll have to start doing some higher mileage rides soon... (with coverage if I can get my hands on a digital camera)
I ventured up to God's Country for a fifty mile mountain bike race. Drove up in the dark with the sunroof down on Thursday night. Couldn't ask for better weather. Showed up to Ski Denton around 10:30pm and the gates were closed. This has happened to me before. I usually make last minute plans and decide I'll bank on being able to get into a campsite late. At the WVMBA Valley Falls Challenge, I thought Valley Falls State Park would allow camping. I got intimate with the bed of my truck that night. Thursday was slightly worse because Dad needed the truck last weekend. I drove the Accord up, fully packed. Fully packed means I was too lazy to empty the back seat to put the front seat down. So I spread across two seats with my back on the middle console.
Luckily the race wasn't Friday. I hiked around and made some lunch while wondering all day when everyone was going to show up. Lunch didn't settle well so I took a nap. When I woke, there were some guys setting up their tent. They took off for a ride and I decided that wasn't such a bad idea.
They had explained where the course from the previous year went, so I followed their directions and took off about 30 minutes later. At the top of the hill, whilst pedaling the rig through some atv/snowmobile trails, some wildlife decided to join me on the trail. The rest of the evening I was in sensory overload, flying from dense forest into open mountain top fields, all the while thunderstorms coming and going overhead. I got back refreshed and shared stories and beers with some awesome guys from Bean's Bikes.
Waking up the next morning wasn't too bad, and I felt refreshed at the start. Climbing the first 700 ft in the middle of the pack was good, for me. Once we reached the forestry building a nosebleed came spewing out like a volcano. There goes the right nostril. Who needs two to breathe from, anyway?
Met a guy shortly after named Jason, and we kept pace with each other for a while. That changed once we hit the fire roads. Never had I experienced such a disadvantage on a singlespeed than 60% fireroads during a race. I felt like I was in slow motion when we came out of the singletrack. After that I decided I was going to keep at my pace and finish. I caught back up on the downhill and made it to the first aid station right behind Jason.
After a quick PB sandwich and a banana, I was moving up a gradual fire road climb. Gradual was OK until it turned into a ski slope-like grade. I pushed as far as I could, but the settling food and lack of experience kicked in, and I had to do a little hike-a-bike to recover. Dropped into some singletrack and started to get my lungs and legs back.
The second aid station came up sooner than expected, and instead of being at mile 35, it had been relocated closer to 30. At the time, "No big deal," I thought.
Nearing what I guess was mileage somewhere in the early 40s, I caught up to two guys on the steepest climb I've seen on a bike trail. We were all hiking, and I rode with a nice guy in a DirtRag jersey and riding an X-Cal for a while. We overlapped an ATV section from earlier in the race, and his gears prevailed, letting him take off out of sight.
We had discussed our inevitable proximity to the end, but both of us had been far off. I crossed Route 6 alone, and ran out of water at nearly the same time. I rode about two miles and the lack of water started to get to me. My legs were spasming and my vision started to go. I rode out on the tame sections as long as I could, but once faced with anything greater than flat ATV trail, I got off. And stayed off...
I walked for about 20 minutes just trying to regain composure. Two riders passed. Then two more. Finally a guy stopped and offered me his Gatorade. I rode with Bill and another lady (I'm horrible with names, luckily she'll never read my blog) to the finish, about another 3 miles. His computer had said 52 miles when he passed me, so the race was a little longer than expected. I can't blame anyone, though, because I don't train and I don't eat right. We all finished just under 6 hours. I'll have to start doing some higher mileage rides soon... (with coverage if I can get my hands on a digital camera)
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