Pisgah Monster Cross '24

Not much point in writing a pre-dumble for the 2024 Pisgah Monster Cross.  Sure, I rode my new mountain bike the day before, but more about that when I get a few more rides on it.  I was a third wheel on a Tinder date the night before, and mebbe I hid my water bottles from myself, but my shit was literally so together when I woke up Saturday morning that I had fifteen minutes to lie back down and rest my head.

I already knew that we didn't have much of a single speed field.  Chris and Scott had other things to tend to, and with the Bootlegger 100 already in the bag, they didn't need this race to keep in the King of Pisgah overall (you can drop one gravel race).  The whole SS class was a couple mystery contestants, Gabor, and myself.

I line up towards the front'ish, and the big mystery single speed feller I don't know is next to me.  John.  I think he looks young, but that could be because I'm old.  He's on a squishy fronted mountain bike with larger'ish tires, so if I can't climb faster than him, I'm certainly not gonna make time up on the chunk gnar gravel to the west with my 42s on a turgid bike.

Neutral start on the pavement, bang a right on the gravel, and shortly thereafter John comes by screaming "Heeeeeeeeeeeyaw!   We're going to the White House!" or something like that.

I get caught up in the moment and probably give 'er a bit more than I should on the climb up FR477.  I let up on the gas and avoid the dark places in my head for awhile.

Ssure I eventually had the "I don't wanna do hard things anymore, there won't be a '25 season, I'm going to go home and sell all my bikes" thoughts, but I got over it pretty quick when I made my way over to the side of the course I hadn't seen in six years since my last Monster Cross.  The climbs are punishing, and the descents are real dick-beaters, but the views are insane.  I was able to push the negative thoughts out and enjoy the moment for what it is.  I'm blessed that I am able to do these things, and I should never take that for granted.

all photos cred: Icon Media Asheville

As far as racing goes, I never saw another single speeder after the first five minutes of the race.  It's not the kind of course where a person with one cog can do much playing well with all the others when they have good options at their fingertips.  Surge past on the climbs only to give it all back on the flats.  

I did make a bad decision to pass up the first aid station thinking I could make it to the second one on two bottles.  I found myself taking the lids off and drinking the last couple ounces at mile thirty three... and aid two is at mile... ?

I don't remember.

But I lived, obvs.

It honestly was a fantastical day on a bike in perfect weather with occasional good company.  I never looked at the time on my Wahoo data acquisition device until I was on the last mile or so of pavement, and whaddaya know?  I ended up finishing ten minutes faster than forty nine year old me six years ago.  

I'm pleased.  How often do I say that?

Not often enough.

I am but a wee man.