Modern mountain bikes run the gamut of price tags. Until last weekend, I thought there would be a direct relationship between how much you pay for your bike and how well it works and how fast you can go. Turns out, no matter how nice the technology, if you cram it full of sticky, wet, North Carolina mud, it all functions the same.
Last weekend we traveled to the Tsali Recreation area near Almond, NC, to race the solo 6 Hours of Tsali. Jordan came as my SAG support, coach, and videographer (see below) with plans to run some of the trails not involved in the race during my laps (she did the Tsali 50k last year in below freezing temperatures). My optimistic goal of 5 laps of the 10 mile course began with a Le Mans style start (everyone runs ¼ mile to their bikes to spread out the field) and immediately entered the world of mud. The night before had seen just enough rain to fill up the omnipresent mud puddles and turn most of the trails into slip-and-slides.
The first lap was fast as riders took chances trying to get a good position in the group: we lost one guy on the first sketchy corner going into the first sketchy descent (great for the nerves). It didn’t take long for both riders and bikes to be covered in a thick layer of mud. The relay riders had time to clean their bikes in between laps, while the solo riders had to grin and bear the complaints from their gunked-up drivetrains.
The second lap went quickly and easily, and then on the third lap, things really hard. The sun came out and dried up portions of the trail, but also raised the temperature. The mud was building up on my bike (and me), I’d fallen a few times (in the same blinkin’ rock garden!) and I started exploring the thought that maybe this just wasn’t my kind of race. Jordan and I are getting married in a month, and I did not want a bunch of pictures from the wedding of me in a tux with a broken collarbone. When I saw Jordan after the third lap, she didn’t let stopping even come up in conversation; she just got me what I needed (promising me a waffle for each lap completed) and sent me back up the trail for one more lap.
The fourth lap proved to be the most interesting. At mile 4, I ran out of water; I’d been polishing off a camelback reservoir on each lap, and the temp was now in the 80s. At mile 4.5, my quads cramped, which is hard to combat without water. And at mile 5, I broke my front brake cable coming off the highest point of the course. I switched to survival mode (thinking of how a sling would look over a tux) and feathered the back break the rest of the way, hoping not to hear another “POP” that would leave me brakeless… After frustrating a few faster riders behind me, I made it to the finish just as they called the cutoff for the six hour event. I’d managed 4 laps for 42.5 miles in 5:25: not stellar, but I was happy with my first attempt at a mountain bike race and that I was still in one piece. The race report a few days later called it a perfect day for a mountain bike race, and I guess I’d have to agree. Now to clean the rest of the Great Equalizer off my gear…
