Utah Cyclocross Race #11

* Not todays actual snotsicles.

It’s been a long season of fantastic weather, and sunny skies this season.  Finally some decent cross weather.  It was 19 degrees and cloudy when I pulled up to Fort Buenaventura this morning.

I have never raced at Buenaventura(that means good adventure), and I wasn’t super stoked about driving clear in the hell up to Ogden for the last race.  With Hamilton, Cobourn, and Riley wussing out, once again it was up to me,the ringers,Wes,…. and the Thurgoods to represent.    Not all of us for Clammy Chamois, but you get the point.

I pulled on a hoody, and spun out around the course to check it out.  Fort Bueno is like Wheeler but better.  I never thought I’d say that about any course, but it is.  There’s pavement, singletrack, grass, natural barriers,  there was even a broken water pipe spraying across the course at one point creating an ice block surrounded by thin crunchy ice.  Mercifully, they eventually got the water shut off so we didn’t have to ride through it.  It was brisk.  Anticipating this, I brought the trainer I’ve been sitting on this week(yeah, I know)  And was able to spin myself warm without the wind chill.  This worked beautifully, and I was actually able to dump my thick winter gloves for some nice thin ones.   So there I was, shorts, long sleeved jersey, and a skull cap, perfectly comfortable at the start line.  And then, it started to snow, and hard.  We lined up, and waited the sign.  By the time we went, there was already a dusting of snow on the ground.  As per my usual cheating ways, I pushed my way up to behind the call up line.  This gave me a reasonable start, close to the lead pack.  The first hundred yards or so were a straight dirt road, with plenty of room to jockey for position.  A couple guys blew past me, which I have come to expect.  But here’s where it got interesting.  The first turn to the left sent bodies flying everywhere.  At least four guys went down.  The ensuing turns had the same effect.  It was like an ill-fated beach assault with people getting mowed down the second they left the boat.  The course twisted in and out of the trees, and the pack started to thin out.  While I was still warm, there was a steady stream of snot, and slobber running down my beard. 

Where we came to the shore of the Ogden river, we passed under a bridge.  Tentatively, I scanned the dark corners for gang-related murders, we were in Ogden after all.  No bodies but thousands of round, baby-head rocks.  Many people were forced to dismount, which made many more people have to dismount.  This caused a bit of a log-jam which shook up the pack a little.  On subsequent laps, it was much easier to navigate without the crowds. 

Then it happened.  I had a little extra juice.  With fast smooth sections between all the rough patches, I was able to not just hang but actually pass several people.  I felt like I was totally killing it until I realized that half of them were the back of the men’s 55+ pack that we were catching.  But still, people were passed. 

All this time, the snows coming down harder and harder.  With each lap, things got slicker  and lines that had been clean and fast before were now icy death patches.  With one lap to go I was, as always, in no-mans land.  Far enough behind the guys in front of me that I didn’t think I could catch them, and far enough ahead of those behind me, that I wasn’t worried about them.  Unfortunately, this caused me to sit up a bit.  Not completely, just enough that I regret not pushing harder.  I know I could have. 

As I entered the last meadow, where you could see the remainder of the course,  I thought I heard the crunch of frozen leaves behind me.  Just then the race announcer said, “Here comes a pack of four out of the trees!!”.  FOUR!! What in hell?  I stood up and mashed, glancing back over my should for just a bit too see the sure enough I had a bunch of snot-encrusted pursuers looking to climb up the standings in the final stretch.  The last section before the barriers, a guy in a Bicycle-Center kit with a long shaggy beard sucked my doors of as he passed and I had no answer.  I managed to gap the others on the barriers, but only enough that I was able to sprint it out to hold onto my place.

Afterwards we regrouped and most everyone had a story about sliding out, or hitting the ground.  I think that was the difference.  Truth is,… I’ll take it.  I got 14th of 42 which is officially, my best ever result.

It leads me to wonder if watching what I eat and exercising during the week wouldn’t have helped me have better races earlier in the season.  I guess that ’s a question for the ages.  I now head into a month-long break before the last-call race and party in January.  I could hit it hard and maybe do even better then.  Of course, I did eat three bratwursts and a box of orange sticks to celebrate todays result.