Wissahickon

Dig, dig, dig!

Cold. Rain. Mud. The ingredients for a perfect cyclocross race. ABC and I succeeded in achieving the two goals wet set for ourselves (not to be lapped and not to come in last) and I couldn't be more pleased about this.

I decided to race with the B-men, which included not only the Cat 4's, where I belong, but the Cat 2's and 3's as well. I did this for a few reasons, some personal and some logistical. Needless to say, these guys are pretty fast and the field was huge. Since I rode Singlespeed in XC, there weren't more than 20 guys in my class at any race. There were 117 starters here! I was late to the staging area and lined up in the very back of the pack, immediately at a disadvantage but felt I haven't earned the right to be any further up. Also, I believe, in 'cross, priority is given to the faster racers. So in either or both cases, my work was cut out for me.

From the gun, since the pack was so large, the leaders were entering the first turn by the time I even began moving. There was a huge pileup on the opening stretch that slowed me down even more and saw me in just about dead last. Once underway, I was in chase mode. It was an incredible feeling to pick off so many riders on the first lap. Within the first few turns, I must have gone by 15-20 guys. I began to second guess myself. "Am I riding too fast?" "Is my pace too quick to control my bike in these conditions?" "Will I bonk if I keep up like this?" A lot goes through your mind out there and I tried to suppress my analytical self and let my physical self take over, who reacts based on instinct rather than logic. I went primal, yo!

I managed to stay on two wheels the whole race, save for one major wipeout. The course came off a gravel road back onto the grass in a gently sweeping left turn. The inside line through the apex was where ABC wanted to go, but it was deeply rutted and muddy. I noticed a high line on the outside that was smooth and dry, but it required leaning away from the turn and riding up an off-camber mud slope. It was as if my brain and eyeballs left my body and watched from the sideline and thought, "Hey dummy, that's physically impossible!" It was too late, I went for it and immediately my tires slid down to the left, back to the low line and I ate shit. I was all by myself though, jumped right back up, and didn't lose any positions.

I was totally psyched when I passed the Start/Finish area at the end of my third lap and wasn't waved off. One more! I was still feeling strong and battled with a few more guys. I had to take a few B-lines to pass them, which meant going through some soup rather than tracking easily through the grassier stuff. When you exit a corner and realize you just pointed yourself into the worst line possible, you immediately think, "Oh no!" But I put the hammer down and motored through that shit and gained a position.

Looking back, the conditions really couldn't have been much worse and yet I had an absolute blast out there. I always say it, but this was the most fun I've ever had on my bike. I can't wait for next weekend, but now is the fun of tearing my bike down completely and rebuilding it. A to the B to the C.