Breck Epic '21: Stage Two

Only day two and it feels like the house has its rhythm going already.  I can hear someone in the kitchen just before 6:00AM, and the coffee starts burbling its siren song shortly thereafter, prompting me to arise from the couch, wander over, pour a cup, grab my Pop Tarts, and return to my bed cum couch.

It's gonna be a great day... once I pull these scabby boogers out of my nose... after I eat my Pop Tarts, natch.

Kit up and get ready for what I would consider my third favorite day of the week, the Colorado Trail Stage.

I quickly forget that the gentle paved grade at the start leads to a tight double track where it's hard to keep your place amongst the geared riders.  It's a lot of work riding that slow, but if I get off and walk (at the same pace), I might have to hear the "rider back" bullshit... that I don't care about... because I'm going the same pace.

I get to the first full tilt boogie down some old jeep road.  My eyes are scanning ahead, looking for the blue groove as it shifts from left to right with little rhyme or reason.  I'm feeling like myself again.  Sure, my ribs are a little pissed.  My shoulder is questioning my judgment.  

But my brain is excite.

Come into a hard right sweeper from jeep road to single track and almost lose her in that turn.

Cripes.  Getting a little too anxious to embrace the full return of my mojo.

Some single track climbing and we get to a part I can actually remember, the slam bang switch backs down the Colorado Trail.  I've railed this before.  I'll rail it again.

The conditions are way dry.  So loose... so similar to the Palisade Plunge... I try to not think about it.

I'm catching a couple riders and putting some distance on the ones behind me.  My life is good.  Normal... I close in on making my first pass.

And then it happens.  I miss the left edge of the trail by a few inches, and the front wheel dives into the soft dirt.

Here I go again...

I'm immediately tossed off the bike to the left... just about the same way it happened to me about four weeks ago.  Fortunately, the conditions are loose over hard and not just hard, so I slide across the surface of this godforsaken planet in a slightly more pleasant manner.   I stand up and all I can think is "my ribs? my shoulder?  my bike?"

The ribs were a little angry.  My shoulder perhaps no more surly than it was at the start.  I give my bike a quick once over, and it looks just fine.  I go to hop on my bike and...

Ooff.  Qu'est que ce?  My right foot is no buenos.  Odd.  I don't know what's up with that.

I try and ride the bike like a normal human boy, but I can't put weight on my right leg.  I decide to finish the downhill by putting my weight far back on my drooped saddle, and... I can feel that I busted the right rail of my seat part.  

Poop.

And thus began the painful "I'm at mile eight and the aid station is at mile fourteen and the only way out is moving forward and down the mountain and try and not crash..."

This is all too familiar to me at this point.

Drop out of the trail to a double track to a fast fire road... and stop to talk to the two course marshals.

"Is there an easy way back to town?"

"Yes.  Don't go right.  Go down this way to the pavement, bang a left, and you'll hit the main road back to town... "

"Oh, but if you take a quick right on the pavement, your drop bag will be a few hundred yards away."

Seeking the solace of my aid bag beer and bacon, I opted for the right.

I just quit.  Eight Breck Epic finishes, but no ninth this time around.

Yes, I cried.  Yes, I admitted as much when interviewed by Devon O'Neil for the Breck Epic Daily Recap.  Yes, I now have problems to deal with.