Just standing there, my heart rate is rising: 115, 117, 120, 122. The race director gives us the usual info: some of the trail marked w/ pink ribbons, some of the trail marked w/ orange paint – got it. And 3, 2, 1, GO! I have a little stumble at the start with getting clipped into my pedal which costs me a few seconds and 1 female rider passes me; shoot. I manage to hang on to the front group as we turn from the gravel / dirt road and onto the trail. Immediately we are met with section after section of mud, a result of the prior weeks worth of torrential downpour. Still in the pack, mud is kicking up in my face from the riders in front of me and splashing up on me as I ride through. It’s in my face, my eyes, my lips and my mouth. It’s slowing me down and I’m wishing I hadn’t put 50 pounds of pressure in my tires prior to the race.
I try to make up for lost time once we reach a semi-dry, flat section. I pick up the pace, pass a guy on my right, and hit a slick patch. My bike goes down and I literally fly out of my pedals, face first onto the trail and slide into the mountain laurels. I quickly get back up, embarrassed that they guy I just passed is now passing me, and get back into it as fast as possible. This sets me back and I’m now riding with the middle group. They’re going pretty slow through a very narrow, slick, technical section. I can’t keep momentum but keep trying to get back on my bike. In hindsight, I should have just run my bike through that entire section. As we come into a clearing, I settle into a moderately fast pace, cautious of what happened previously when I tried to go all out. I pass one or two people and then hear someone coming up behind me. I hear a female’s voice call out, on you’re right! NO WAY, I am NOT letting her pass. I immediately pick up the pace and start hammering, putting a good distance between me and her.
I have a good rhythm now and am feeling more confident. I come to a bridge that’s bottlenecked because it’s slick and everyone is walking their bikes across. I make it over and get back on quickly, hoping I still have a gap on the chick behind me. I was following a group and as we came up to a stream crossing, everyone started turning around; they thought they may have missed a turn. I couldn’t understand why because the trail clearly went across and I could see trees marked with orange paint, so I continued across, as did a few other guys.
What came next would be the most grueling climb I never want to experience again on a mountain bike. The approach was steep and narrow and I couldn’t maintain any momentum coming in; I pushed as hard as I could but had to jump off. As I turned the first corner I saw in the distance that the trail went up and up, seemingly endlessly. There were parts that I could ride but many that I had to hike. At one point the trail was so steep, I had trouble even pushing my bike up. Just hiking, my heart rate was near threshold. I continued looking back and saw only one guy behind me. I started to become concerned that I was on the wrong trail. How could they possibly expect people to ride up this? This may be an awesome downhill, but up? No way. It was discouraging not knowing, not seeing anyone, not having anyone to talk to. I finally reached the top after what had seemed like miles and saw riders coming from the right, which confused me. Was there a loop I was supposed to follow to the right that would bring me back around? Were these expert riders? I asked a few passing by if there was a loop I had to take but none of them knew, so I followed the race course to the left.
I didn’t know what had happened but taking the wrong turn threw my entire game off for the rest of the race. I battled with myself about whether it brought me out ahead or behind where I should have been. I would have to disqualify myself for going off course. The race didn’t really mean anything then, it wasn’t really a race anymore, I was just going to finish. I was torturing myself, riding mainly alone, for the rest of the race. Occasionally a rider or group of riders would pass me and I’d ride with them for awhile, only to be dropped when we got to a muddy or rocky section. I really need to work on my technical skills; even when (and maybe especially) it’s wet.
I came through the last major rock garden and there were people there snapping pictures. I managed to push through long enough so they could take my picture while I was still on my bike , until I couldn’t hold the line anymore and had to run through. “Just about a mile to go”, they said, YES! I was so relieved to have this race over with. I came back on the gravel road, gave it all I had left and sprinted to the finish.
I finished 2nd overall in the female sport division with a time of 1 hr 53 minutes. After speaking with the race director, they decided that I didn’t need to be disqualified for the route I had taken and my points were safe for the Bike the Wilds series. This was a very challenging course, both mentally and physically. I look forward to facing it again and winning it next year!
Race Stats:
Standing: 2nd overall female sport
Course Length: 14.5 miles
Finish Time: 1 hr, 53 minutes
Heart Rate – The majority of the race was spent in zone 4 with 23 minutes spent in zone 5.
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