Now that I've decided my "race" is over, what to do?
It's like 8:30 AM. Seems a bit rash to head back to camp and pop my first Coors of the day. I could always grab my small cooler, load it with beer, take it to the top of Hankey... and wait how long for people to get there? Hours? To hand up beer... in a COVID world?
I decide to cut the course back to Aid 2 where I have a tube and more CO2. Then I can go for a bike ride with some peace of mind.
These are the thinky thoughts I was able to muster while following the back of the pack down Narrowback.
Get to the gravel road, see a pump at the minimal first aid station... get some air to get me rolling again at a reasonable pressure. Roll over to Aid 2, let them know I am NOT the lead rider (obvs), and rifle through my drop bag. Now reloaded with a fresh tube and another CO2, I go just around the corner to cheer the riders on...
well, until I see Buck, and then I join him towards the first climb up Hankey. We chat. He's glum (for Buck). That means mebbe 90% of a normal person's chipper. He's had quite the day already... not sure he's in the mood for all this riding nonsense. I dunno if my company helped or hindered his outlook.
And then we're at the top... Buck splits right, and I sit down. Hang out with another bike cycle sport spectator. Ring my bell. Shout out quite a few "looking good" words of encouragement. Enjoy just being outside and not in Charlotte.
Five and a half hours into the race, the people I was riding down Narrowback with come by my sitting spot. We're at the thirty or so mile mark. They're relatively happy. I'd be losing my shit thinking about a potential eighteen hour or more day?
That's me tho.
Once it gets down to less than a trickle, I go ahead and do the final climb and descent into the finish. Take what was probably the first shower enjoyed by someone who started the day with a number plate. Pack my cooler, grab my phone, head over the the final straightaway to the finish.
Spectate in the sunshine with my Coors and the internet to keep me company.
Eventually, my little friends begin to trickle in, and I got 75% of what I drove up here for... seeing my people that I really miss.
That was nice.
Wake up early on Monday, drive home, shower, unpack, put things away, do my laundry, and take a nap all before 2:20 PM.
Wake up... time to confirm what I think I already kinda know.
Here's my gash:.
Now I know that the cut-down Bic pen that holds my spare plugs woulda saved me. It only took two slices of bacon to stop the leak.
Lesson learned. Take nothing for granted. Checking my sealant, Tülbag, brake pads, clean/lube the chain, tug on all the bolts... this all used to come naturally for me. I'm definitely adding even more plugs in one manner or another to the things I carry with me. That's happening.
Next time, I'm making a physical checklist of things to look at BEFORE any long event instead of just relying on my well developed pre-race muscle memory.
TBC
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1 comment:
Well, arguably you're more of a writer than a racer, so in fact what happened was the beast thing that could have happened. Except I guess 100 miles of racing would've maybe left you with more stories. But you're at your best in the face of adversity, so this is no doubt the best outcome quality-wise for us readers.
Good job.
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