For sizzle!

Before I get into this new post, I'd like to show you what my latest batch of trail mix looks like. Enough Reese's Pieces that one would become ill before coming close to finishing them all. That sounds like a dare, Harry!

So the H2H series has taken a break for a while, not seeing us back again until September, but the racing action elsewhere is in full swing and I wanted to get in on some of it. The Mid-Atlantic Super Series progresses straight through the summer and I decided to participate in stop #9, the Denzeisen and Quigley Summer Sizzler at Gloucester County College in Sewell, NJ.

Preparation for this event was no different from any other so far, except that this was going to be my first time heading to the venue the night before and camping in Vanzilla somewhere on the premises. Well, that didn't go over too well. Upon arrival in an empty, well lit parking lot on the campus, I was instantly met by a security vehicle. What? Can't a suspicious, white, unmarked cargo van drive onto a college campus and park curiously in the middle of the night? Actually the security guard was pretty cool and I did the whole "yes sir, no sir" routine. Since there was no way he would let me stay (I didn't press the issue), I asked where he'd recommend I go and his best suggestion was an all-night diner up the road. I was cautious, but since he reached into his bag of ideas and came up with nothing, I decided I'd try to follow his directions and maybe along the way I'd find something better. Find something better I did, but more on that later.

His directions stunk and I found myself immediately lost. I was getting tired, it was late, I didn't feel like driving anymore and I was running out of patience. That's when it hit me! There must be a Walmart somewhere close by, I'll go there! A quick call to the directory assistance got me the number to the nearest location and the night operator there was about the sweetest woman I've ever conversed with via the telephone. I was sure to ask if it was cool if I spent the night in my vehicle and explained why I was there and she said the manager was all for it. Walmart rules.

Like a beacon of hope. Welcome to Walmart!

She gave me excellent directions and I found it with no problems. I was so pleased with her kindness, I called back once I arrived just to tell her I made it safely and thanked her again for being so helpful and friendly. She wished me a good night sleep and good luck in my race the next day. Needless to say, I went to bed with a smile on my face. It's amazing how easy it is to be kind to others, yet so many people are douchebags. I love nice people.

Another nice thing about Walmart is their impeccable restrooms. I've never been to a public restroom that I can say actually smelled pleasant. But this one did. I made use of it before going to bed and once more before leaving in the morning. I noticed the supply of hand towels and paper ass gaskets had been replenished by the restroom gnomes during the night. I slept so soundly that I actually was awakened by my alarm clock. Upon entering the store one last time before leaving, I was reminded how much I love the sweet little old ladies they station by the door whose only job it is is to say "Welcome to Walmart!" and smile. They serve double-duty as receipt checkers and personally I would love to see one try to thwart a shoplifting attempt.

I arrived back at the college, secured my parking space among the fleet of roof rack-equipped vehicles, and began cooking my oatmeal tailgate style. I met a few nice people in the parking lot who compete in the MASS including Travis and Blake, who are fellow Singlespeeders and ended up finishing 2 and 3, respectively. Nice job, guys! I made my way over to racer check-in and was met by a cute girl wielding a Sharpie marker. It was her purpose to mark every racers' right calf with their designated class. She giggled and commented on my courage to race with only one gear as she dropped to give me my semi-permanent "SS" tattoo on my freshly shaven leg. When she moved up to the guy in front of me, he lifted his pant leg to reveal an unusually hairy gam. I kinda felt bad for the girl and probably felt better about shaving my legs than I had since I first went through with it.

Bam!

After getting my shit together, I headed out for a warm up. I ran into my friend, Mark Waters and we chatted it up as we paced each other around the campus. I hadn't set any goals for this race because I was coming off of an intense week of training leading up to the KVSP/NJSC race two weeks before and a very light load in the week passed, but I then decided that I was going to try to hang with Mark since he's been finishing strong and slightly better than me in previous races. The start of this race was a little different than how H2H events begin. Rather than being stacked up in rows, the entire field was spread out only one rider deep and 20 riders wide, encompassing the entire SS field. It was like a motocross land rush start where it's a free-for-all going into the first turn. I kept with my usual strategy of getting up front early and settling back like I always do.

As we entered the first portion of single track, I found myself in the top 5. I had no idea what the course was like, except for that it had lots of roots and some short, steep climbs. The first three guys had pulled way ahead, leaving another rider and myself leading a freight train through the unknown. Since what was around every corner was a mystery at this point, I found myself braking hard trying not to blow off the trail and then trying to regain my momentum afterwards. Not even ten minutes into the first lap, I overcooked a sharp, root infested left turn, my bike was out from under me faster than I could get my feet out and I laid there having one of those "Shoulda had a V8" moments. It was the hardest crash I ever sustained in a race, but I got right back up. Unfortunately, since the trail was so narrow, I was forced to let the rest of the freight train through before I could get going again. I never heard so many people say, "On your right, one more, one more, one more, one more..." I had gone from about 5th to 14th in the blink of an eye. I was totally bummed, but knew the longer I lamented the fact that I had so much work ahead of me, the more work I would be creating. So I just settled in and began my epic comeback.

I was pretty much all alone the rest of the first lap. Each group was separated by two minutes and the SSers were the fourth group to leave. Naturally, some of the back of the geared field in each group is quick to get overtaken by the non-geared riders and these people were my only company as I picked them off one by one. The entire 6 mile loop was contained within less than two square miles, so it wasn't uncommon to see the same riders that are ahead of you passing you multiple times heading the other way as the trail double-backed over itself. Mark was the caboose of that freight train and I saw him more than a few times as I attempted to reel him in. By the middle of the second lap I had bridged up to him and, though I didn't feel like I was riding as fast as I was, I was certainly hauling ass. I rode his wheel for a few seconds when I knew I could easily outrun this group. I got past Mark and hit the afterburners and began working my way back through the SS field.

On the third lap, I was passed by one of the guys way off the front in the beginning who suffered two broken spokes on the first lap. He was also chewing his way back to the front and when he went by me, I said, "Nice recovery! I saw you with the technical earlier. Keep it up!" I latched onto his wheel and we both approached a rider, Kevin, who was sitting comfortably in 8th place. At several points in the course, there were log rides in the race line with bypasses along side. Only a few times the bypass was the faster way, but I chose the log rides also because they were so much fun. "Technical recovery guy" passed Kevin and now I was behind the both of them. We climbed a small hill with a log ride on the left with a sharp right turn at the top. Both of them took the bypass while I saw my chance to kill them both and surged over the logs thus passing Kevin and kept my momentum up to successfully pass recovery guy on the inside of the right turn. I was pumped that it worked and kept the flow going for the next mile when recovery guy then passed me and left me for the last time.

My third lap proved to be my fastest. In the entire 1:34:52, lap three was sub 30 minutes. I was cooking and felt awesome. One of my favorite sections of the course was a horseshoe curve whose apex was the highest point with a tree right on the inside. Its roots created a sort of staircase up one side and down the other. The first two laps saw me forced to get off and run because of riders in front of me unable to clean it. Lap three I was hauling ass and saw the turn was almost completely vacant except for one guy hike-a-bike-ing around the outside. I dug in and ascended the rooted staircase, lunged up and over the exposed protruding stump at the apex and flew down the other side. I was so jazzed that I screamed, "YEAH!! WOOOO!!!" Kevin, who was a ways back told me after the race that he heard someone whooping it up.

He actually gave me a good run in the final miles. I noticed he was catching up to me as we passed each other in opposite directions. I made sure I hammered up each of the two last steep climbs before the final switchback descent into the start/finish area. I wasn't going to give him any chance to catch me. When the trail finally opened up to reveal the finish line, I put the pedal down and thought he was farther back than he actually was. If it wasn't for him letting out a roar as he accelerated towards me, I would have never known he was there. Kevin's friend, I forget your name, sorry, who joined us after the finish commended me on how fast I reacted to the attack and began sprinting. We had an epic drag race to the wire where I just locked my core muscles and proceeded to pedal complete circles, pulling my feet back through the bottom of the pedal stroke and ultimately edged him out. It was so close that neither of us knew how it ended, but once the results were posted, he came up to tell me that I had beaten him by one-tenth of a second! WOW! I learned that that earned me 8th overall, my second best performance of all time.

I can't say that I'm not upset about crashing and that I am not wondering how it would have turned out had I ran that pace without crashing, but that is all a part of the experience. This was the first time that I was not the lead dog and had the actual physical ability to claw my way through the field to get back to the front. My making up six places and turning such hot lap times can only be seen as a testament to how far my fitness has come and how effective my training has been over the last few months.

So remember when I said earlier that the security guard's shitty directions actually led me to something better than a place to sleep? While I was driving around aimlessly during the night, upon making a wrong turn past an old used car lot, I noticed a cluster of old bicycles chained together on the roadside. One of them in particular stood out from the rest, as it was clearly much larger than the others. I made a mental note of its location and figured I'd go inspectigate after the race the next day. Mark and I went out for a few beers and a burger I had been craving since days before the race. While we talked about many things bike-related, I was reminded about the bikes I saw the night before and Mark got really interested. We decided to go check them out and after many more wrong turns, we finally found them. It turned out that not only did the fellow who owns the lot sell used cars, but he is a classic bike collector as well. He had some really old stuff, some of which in exceedingly good condition.

I spotted the bike that caught my eye the night before, an all-original 1966 purple Schwinn Twinn tandem, and she was even more glorious in the daylight. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I had to have it. Now, I have been pretty good at controlling my impulsive spending habits lately. Currently I am in the process of getting laid off from my full-time job of the last 15 years and am switching careers into a full-time bike mechanic gig that will pay half of what I make now if I'm lucky. I have to sell my car because I can't afford to make payments anymore and I don't have enough money to cover my mortgage next month. I wouldn't call Mark an enabler by any stretch of the imagination, but his reasoning for why I should buy the bike were exactly my sentiments and perhaps I just needed to hear it from someone else. I figured I could not let such a gorgeous bike get away from me and I would regret not buying it the rest of my life if I looked back on this day and decided not to buy it simply because I couldn't afford it. Instead, I looked forward and imagined the awesome experiences I would have while riding it and all the joy it would bring me and the deal was sealed. A quick bit of negotiating and a trip to the nearest ATM and I was the proud new owner of this beauty:

I can't wait to bring it into the shop and get to work on restoring her. Also, had I not made the choice to purchase a van to use as my mobile residence, I wouldn't have had a way to bring it home and perhaps would not have even thought once about buying it. It's funny how things work out. After all the events that occurred today, I can honestly say that this was the best day of my life. I didn't place in my race, but I still brought home some metal.