And Then There Was One

One lap to go. With a fresh Clean Bottle provided by the Dirty Party Cycle just before I headed out for lap two, I was ready. The problem was, my body wasn’t ready. After doing way too much of a warm up and being dehydrated, I was hurting pretty bad. Also, since Mr. Flat Tire was determined not to DNF, I figured that he would fix his bicycle ailment and come after me. I pushed down the gravel road back to the singletrack, and wished for the best. Like my Grandma used to say though, “You can wish in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one fills up faster.” I was destined to be in a world of shit, it seemed.


Once I hit the singletrack, I flew down the trail. I was going pretty fast, and I used the downhill stuff to try to recover. My stand up and climb legs were gone, so I struggled to get up every small hill. I had no choice but to suffer through it, but I was starting to wonder if I could make it to the end. This is the first race I where I wondered if I could even finish, let alone stay out of last place. I kept the thought of Mr. Flat Tire in my head, and tried to use that to get me through the last painful lap.


I wasn’t doing too bad, but there was another problem. After finishing one lap and being well into the second, I noticed that I was getting really close to the seventeen mile mark on my computer (yes, I reset it after my warm up.) When the display said fifteen miles, I knew for sure that there was more than two miles to go. I was on my third pass through this section of trail (thanks to my warm up lap), so I knew there was plenty left. I tried to remember what was left, but I was drawing a blank. I was just riding as fast as I could at that point, and tried to forget that my legs weren’t cooperating. I was already halfway through my water bottle, so I had to finish one way or the other.


The highlight of that section was a trail creature I encountered. As I was winding through the singletrack, I saw a good sized king snake on the trail. I stopped for a second to move him off the trail, but he didn’t wait around for my help. It’s times like those that I wished I carried a camera while I rode. I got back to pedalling and moved on down the trail, leaving my new snake pal behind.


Out of nowhere, I reached the point where the trail splits off for the second lap (which avoided the “technical” section.) I knew there couldn’t be much left, so I hauled ass down the trail and gave it everything I had. After one small climb, I was back on a doubletrack downhill. It didn’t last long, and I was back in the woods. I knew this was the final leg, and I didn’t see anyone behind me. Was Mr. Flat Tire gaining on me? Would he appear out of nowhere and pass me? I didn’t give a shit at that point, since I was in survival mode. It was good motivation though, and it was probably the only thing that kept me going.


Speaking of motivation, local Charlotte rider Rodney B. was waiting in the woods near the spot where Lunchbox saw me on lap one. He shouted out some words of encouragement that really helped, but I’m not sure if I acknowledged him. I meant to, but the words just didn’t come out. He was kind enough to get a photo of me though.



Honestly, I can’t remember what he said, but it still kept me going. With the finish line near, I gave it whatever I had left. I must not have been going that fast though, because he managed to get a photo of me as I rode away.



Big thanks for the photos, and the cheering.

I crossed one small section of gravel road, and then it was a tiny bit more singletrack. I was still all alone, and the finish line was in sight. I mashed across the grass to cross the finish line, and I heard some people cheering for me. I was in such a haze though, that I don’t think I even looked their way. When it was all said and done, I finished in 5th place. I have to say that it was the hardest 5th place finish I’ve ever had. Hell, I won a race two years ago that wasn’t this difficult. I rode around for a bit before I got off my bike, because I was sure that my legs would seize up and take me down to the ground if I stopped.

After resting a bit, I saw Mr. Flat Tire come in. If I would’ve stopped to walk anything or had another mechanical, I’m pretty sure that he would’ve caught up to me. He swapped out his front wheel and managed to finish the race. I guess I should quit bitching about how hard my race was, huh?

I actually did have fun, but it was tough. My decision to go with only one water bottle should have cost me, but the DPC saved my ass. Also, piss poor planning on my warm up lap left me spent, with way too little energy to race. It was hot as shit out there too, but I’ll get used to that eventually. Even though I got there extra early before my race started, I didn’t prepare properly. Maybe it’s better when I show up at the last minute and hop on my bike to race. That’s my style anyway. Damn all this planning stuff. It just causes problems.

It Was Supposed To Be Easy

Sunday’s Race To The River down in Columbia, South Carolina was nothing like I thought it would be. Everyone told me that it was a pretty flat course, so I planned on hauling ass without getting even the slightest bit tired. Before I get into the race report though, I’ll talk about the actual event.


When I went to the website to sign up, there was no Clydesdale (or singlespeed) class listed. I heard that I could just sign up in another class, and that they would change it for me when I got there. The problem was, I had no idea what time I would be racing. There were two waves, one beginning at 10:00 a.m. and one at 11:00. I figured that I would just show up in time for the first one, and see what happened. It would make for a long day.


The Dirty Party Cycle showed up at my house at 6:30 a.m. Sunday morning, so we could make the little over an hour and a half drive down to Harbison State Forest. I figured that would get me there with plenty of time to register, get my shit together, and warm up. When we got there I found out that I would leave with the 11:00 group, so I had a lot of time to kill. After shooting the shit with all the people I knew down there, I got ready to warm up at around 10:00. Lunchbox and the DPC hit the trail for a fun lap, and I let my kid use one of my Clean Bottles since he forgot his. That would leave me with only one bottle for the race, but with the course only being 17 miles I figured that would be all I needed.


After a quick check of the map, I headed out on the trail for my warm up. The plan was to ride for about two miles, and then spend the rest of the time leading up to the race spinning on the gravel road. I guess I didn’t pay attention to the map very well, because two miles turned into eight. I kept waiting to see the parking lot during my warm up, but it looked like I was getting deeper and deeper into the woods. A time check revealed that I had fifteen minutes until race time, so I hauled ass to find my way out of there. I got back to the parking lot with just enough time to refill my Clean Bottle and head to the start line.


The groups went out in waves, with the Clydes going last. When the siren went off, I got up to a decent speed. The other guys weren’t pushing very hard, so I decided to take it up a notch. One guys tried to fight me off, by I eventually passed him by. I looked back, and I had jumped way out ahead of the group. Suddenly, the gravel road turned steep, and I had to downshift. My bike was having some problems changing gears, and a couple of people went by. After the climb I stepped it up again, getting into third place as we hit the trail.


My legs were burning already, but I figured that was probably because of the extra warm up I did. I knew that I would recover quickly, since the trail was relatively flat at the beginning. I tried to shift to a higher gear, and again my bike didn’t want to cooperate. Two more guys went by. I settled in to recover a bit, and one more went around me. I was in sixth place, and hurting already.


About two miles in, I saw a guy in my class on the side of the trail with his wheel off. I said, “That sucks” as I passed by, but I knew it would help me. I bet he would have been able to change his flat faster if he had an Awesome Strap on his bike. I was back in fifth place, and I put the hammer down to put a gap between me and flat tire guy. It wouldn’t last long though, because after about a mile my chain popped off. I pulled over to get it back on, but it was difficult with the Third Eye Chain Watcher in the way. Eventually I got in back on, and tried my best to haul ass again.

Flat tire guy caught me again shortly thereafter, and I tried my best to stay on his wheel when he passed me. It was hot as shit at this point, and I was wondering if I would have enough to drink for the whole race with only one water bottle. I tried to ration it, watching the mileage on my bike computer to make sure I didn’t run out before I rode seventeen miles. Flat tire guy was long gone, but I still kept a good pace.

The course wouldn’t stay flat for long either. There were a few short, bursty climbs, and I made short work of them. I didn’t realize it though, but they were slowly wearing me out. Eventually I entered what they called a “technical” section, which was basically a rock garden on a switchback climb. It looked pretty easy, so I pedaled my way through it. At the top though, I saw flat tire guy walking his bike. When I came around one of the switchbacks, I got a better look at his bike. He had flatted again, and he had his front tire wrapped around his shoulder. He disappeared right after that, so I figured he must have cut the trail to get out of there and settle for a DNF. A few minutes later though, I saw another guy pushing his bike up a climb. I asked how he was doing, and he said, “Bad.” He told me that some guy just passed him riding on just his front rim. Shit, flat tire guy was still on the move. I figured it wouldn’t take long to catch him though, since I had traction (you know, from having actual tires on my wheel instead of a bare rim.) It took a few miles before I finally saw him though.


He was hauling ass, and you could hear his rim bashing the rocks and roots on the trail. It was all I could do to get around him, and even then he stayed with me for a while. Eventually I lost him on a fast downhill section, but I had to push it pretty hard. My legs were already locking up at this point, so I figured that it would only be a matter of time before he caught me again, even without a front tire. At least I was back in fifth place.

I finally saw a familiar part of the trail, which was the one that led back to the parking lot. I also saw Lunchbox hiding in the woods to photograph me.



I told him I had another lap to go, and also let him know that there was a guy riding on his rim. He got a picture of that when the guy finally came by.



Yeah, I wouldn’t have done that shit. I like my wheels too much, and there’s no way I would ride on it without a tire. I would have taken the DNF, because I wouldn’t want to explain to George why I need a new wheel. Anyway, Lunchbox retreated from his spot in the woods, and got a clearer photo.



As I made the approach to the start/finish line, I saw the DPC on the side of the trail talking to some dude. He said, “Here”, and handed me a full Clean Bottle. He saved my ass with that, because I wouldn’t have made it another mile without liquid refreshment. Thanks dude!

Wow, this post is really wordy. I’ll cut it off here, and finish up tomorrow. Lap two would be a little shorter, but not any easier. See y’all tomorrow.

Get On It

Sunday was race number five in the Southern Classic Series, the Stump Jump. I left the house at the crack of dark, and picked up the Dirty Party Cycle along the way. We didn’t get there as early as I would have liked, but I still had enough time to pick up my packet and warm up.


I had no idea what to expect when I got there. There was some shitty weather the day before, but everyone said that the trails were in fine shape. I didn’t bother to pre ride the course either, since I wanted the race to be my first time out there. Someone said that there was a whole lot of downhill at the beginning before you get to the singletrack, so the plan was to gun it from the start and hope for the best. As I lined up at the start, the DPC headed out on the trail to find a good spot for picture taking.


There were sixteen of us in my class, and I only recognized a few faces from other events. When we were given the signal, I took off like a fat girl after a plate of ribs. I worked my way up to second place, and my heart rate was already redlining from the sprint. I backed off a bit and down shifted, but my gears weren’t responding. As I fumbled with my shifting, a few guys went by. Actually, a lot of guys went by. There was a short climb, and then it was a long, fast downhill through a power line cut. I momentarily forgot about my gears and flew down the trail.


As we entered the singletrack, the group was still pretty tight. I had made up for some lost ground on the downhill, and now the trail was pretty flat. I somehow got into a gear that was good for cruising, and hauled ass through the woods. It was fast and flowy, with a lot of switchbacks. Luckily, my bike handling skills were working okay, so I was able to hang with the group.


I passed a few people, and a few people passed me. There was a lot of fighting for position in the first few miles, especially since the climbs were few and far between. Suddenly a bigger, rocky climb appeared, and I saw a lot of people off of their bikes, walking. The guy in front of me attempted to climb, so I followed him. He was in too high of a gear though, and bailed. I ran into his wheel and had to hop off and walk. I gained one spot though when I hopped back on my bike. The trail turned back into the relatively flat stuff again for a bit.


About halfway in, there was another one of those rock climbs. People were having trouble with this one too, and the DPC was able to photograph it since that’s where he decided to camp out.



While he waited for me to come by, he took a picture of his bike for some reason.



Soon, I came up to the climb. I saw him at the top, and I acknowledged him. He yelled words of encouragement as I muscled up the short, yet steep climb.







The guy behind me (in the last photo) wasn’t in my class, but he pretty much stayed on my wheel until the end of the race. I offered to let him by, but he seemed to be happy having me pull his ass around for the remainder of the race. Also (as I forgot to mention earlier) I was being chased down by local Charlotte rider Rodney B., but I somehow managed to fight him off…for a little while at least.


I was in the home stretch. The trail was back to the flat stuff, with some long, fun downhill action sprinkled in. I was having a blast, a “racing” a lot faster than I normally would. Since I though the course was only 7.5 miles, I started picking up the pace just before mile seven. This turned out to be a mistake, because when I hit mile seven someone shouted out, “Good job, only one mile to go.” I turned it on too early, and I was starting to suffer a little bit on the climb out.


Rodney had caught back up to me at that point, so when we exited the trail, him and the guy right behind me went around and put the hammer down. We made a sharp right turn onto a gravel road headed towards the finish, and Rodney slid out and nearly took out a barricade. Making contact with that probably saved him from falling down, and it did absolutely nothing to help me catch him. I managed to shift into a higher gear on the gravel road in hot pursuit, but he was still getting away from me. The guy in front of us turned into the field (not part of the race course we later found out), and we followed.


A race volunteer pointed us in the right direction, and we had to make another sharp right turn to get back on track. Rodney and the guy that wasn’t in our class lost some speed in the turn, but I swung out wide and slingshotted ahead of them. I gunned it to the finish line, ahead of both of them.


The race was a lot tougher than I though it would be, especially since the course was so flat. It was fun. I would definitely go down there again to ride. A lot of the trail reminded me of Florida trails, and I felt right at home. Where did I finish? 11th place. It wasn’t my greatest performance, but I had fun so that’s all that matters. It also gave me some points towards the overall standings. If I keep this up, I should do well when the series is over. Maybe I’ll discuss that some more tomorrow, or not. We had a pretty full day down there in Spartanburg, so I’ll probably talk about that tomorrow.