I coulda kept the train on the tracks, or I coulda headed into the Derailed Saloon to start my own personal rave. I coulda kept the party going into that good night, or I coulda went to Denny's and ordered a Grand Slam and a pitcher of water. Coulda, shoulda, woulda... goudah.Even though I had only had 3.5 meals in the last four days (thanks Shanna for giving me your leftovers) and my beer to coffee to water ratio was somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:3:1 I had a tough decision to make. I left the Meatplow outside and chose the path that grown men fear and smarter men avoid.
photo cred: Singletrackworld.comWhy leave the Meatplow outside? Because there's no parking baby, no parking on the dance floor.
So I woke up Saturday morning dehydrated and sore from hours of busting moves and feeling good vibrations. I walked across the street with George and Mandy and tried to convince a breakfast burrito to jump into my mouth to reduce the effort required to eat it. It was not going to be a good day.
When I made it to the start line I had to pick a place I felt was appropriate for a rider of my stature in my current condition, so I lined up right behind the area that was going to be reserved for the serious riders. No one bothered to fill in that reserved area, so I ended up in the front row in front of JHK and Heather Irmiger with one rider keeping my elbows from touching Deadly Nedly's. Not where I should be, but screw it. At least I would get to see a parade go by at the start of my day.
I was dead on that I would see a lot of people go by at the start. I had nothing to give, so I sat back and soft pedaled as a large portion of the 1,000+ rider field went by. When I got to the hike-a-bike it was standing room only, and I passed the time talking to the rider behind me. I thought I knew her, and after awhile I knew she was she before she knew I was me. Carrie Edwards and I used to race for Ellsworth Team Twenty Four back in the day. She probably didn't recognize me right away as I've gotten much more handsome, and I had a hard time figuring out who she was as she used to wear more clothing eight years ago.
Once we got to the top of the climb it was obvious to me I was gonna run way the hell outta water before I made it to the second loop. I had chosen fashion over function and worn my useless pink Primal Wear AC/DC women's jersey The Pie had bought me for Christmas. Since I couldn't carry a water bottle in my single, baggy, useless pocket I only had 40oz of water to get me through... unhhh... I dunno. How long is this course? Twenty five miles? Shit.
On the ridge line descent I was careful around the precarious portions, but I did manage to go over the bars and end up laying next to the cliff's edge once. After that I was much more careful in the sections where death was possible, and I completed the first loop alive, but with only a swallow of water to get around the second loop.
The second loop is somewhat of a blur. I got a few sips of water here and there from spectators. At one point I sat down in the shade to enjoy one of those sips. I rode as slow as I could to avoid cramping and hiked a lot of the smaller climbs. I was passed by dozens of riders including Peter, Shanna, Mike Maggs, and Greg Herbold... although I held his wheel for awhile, I mean why not? It's Greg Herbold afterall, so why wouldn't I try to stay with him and teach him how to downhill?
I'm pretty sure I'm pushing up a flat section here.
Although I would guess that the second loop took me no more than 1.5 hours it felt like forever. My mouth was parched and I didn't want to bother anyone I didn't know for more water, so I rode along waiting for people I knew to have pity on me (Peter had none... pity not water). Anyways I rolled in to the finish way later than I ever woulda guessed. I laid down for awhile until dRjOn rejuvinated me with a very warm cheese sandwich he pulled outta his Camelbak.
Although there was beer at the finish I was water for the next 24 hours... even during the basketball game at the Ska Brewery.
photo cred: Singletrackworld.comMore on Monday, I guess.
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4 comments:
Looks like your decsion to eat carcass again has really done wonders for your riding. Maybe you should give compassionate eating another try....
while i toiled and suffered in the high altitude of Breck...what did you do?
you crushed me.
and you liked it.
but not nearly as much as i liked pouring my water on the trail instead of giving it to you...while this was a decision i regretted immensely 5 minutes later...
either way.
i beat you dick.
i beat you real good.
BTW. Dave and Rob just called, they have put my mooto-x in production for the 2010 season. of course i will pass but i will put your name in as an alternate.
Bout time you considered sleeping in a altitude tent, Dick.
altitude tent? nah, ya need more hair to be a SSer. rogaine baby, and they don't test for it.
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