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Tuesday, October 12

PMBAR 2021: Part One

The race started as it has for many years now with a mandatory prologue loop, up Black and then right down Thrift.  Thirty five minutes of effort that put us back down at the bottom of Black again.  Thanks, PMBAR.

Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever was standing there witnessing the riders going by, and I stopped to ask him about the rivers and stream and creeks... because if he said anything at the pre-race meeting, we definitely didn't hear it because we were too busy in our fifteen minute panic-stricken preparations for the on-time start.  

"I know the bridge is out at South Mills and Squirrel Gap, but can we cross at the horsey spot?"

"It's moving fast, but it's okay... creeks ok... rivers bad."

I head up Black with that knowledge but also knowing that bridge I was asking about went over South Fork Mills RIVER and not "creek," so mebbe it's okay, but it's down in Pisgah's Butthole, and there's only so many ways in and outta the Butthole that doesn't involve crossing water that's been fueled by days and days of constant rain.

*sigh*

On the way over to the first checkpoint, I've somehow (as I have in the past) convinced myself that there are very few smart ways to skin this whole cat.  We descend Maxwell, climb Clawhammer (and stop to raise my seat because I had lowered it at home last week forgetting that I had already fixed my too-high saddle during the Watershed race last weekend) and sadly single speed our way down the Wheelchair Ramp to the RIVER crossing of much concern.  There are already two teams in the water ahead of us. They are moving slowly and cautiously.  Struggling.  Hard.  The water is not terribly deep, but it's chugging along and making whitecaps.  I take my first step into the river.

Shit.

The water is only knee to dick (not Dick) deep, and it already feels like I'm gonna be headed down river against my will.  I get about eight steps out, and I can't figure out how to hold the bike without the front wheel dipping into the water giving it more leverage against me.  If you didn't know, I'm not a man of much height.

Shit.

I freeze up.

I happen to glance over at my Wahoo data acquisition device.  My heart rate is 177BPM... just trying to stand my ground.  I can't fathom how I'm going to get across.  Watts is in a few steps behind me... mebbe I yell at him to turn around, drop his bike on the bank, come back out, grab my bike, get it across, go back for his bike while I struggle to get across bike-less... and then he can cross it again?

No.  Dammit.

And thus, I got to fully experience the scariest crossing I've ever done in all my years of back country dumbness.  Every.  Step.  Sucked.  My buttholes is still puckered all these days later.

If you also did this crossing, bless your heart.  

So now what?

We start up Squirrel Gap and it dawns on me that the Trace Ridge checkpoint that Eric had to put into the passport last minute to replace the one in South Mills because the river crossing would ABSOLUTELY be too dangerous would be quite a fucking hike from... oh, just about everything else we we're supposed to do.  I never bother to look at which checkpoints are mandatory (usually two outta five), because the plan has been to do them all for as many years as I can remember (since 2008).  So I start thinking...

"Watts, I dunno if the Trace Ridge out and back is gonna be worth a two hour time bonus."  (four minimum to finish, the fifth is worth a two hour bonus)

"Huh.. and what... and where?"

Since Eric made me carry my phone as required gear, I whipped it out and pulled up Trailforks... scroll my finger around... looks like it's a about a twenty mile out-and-back.

"Is that a lot?"

"Dunno."

"How many feets of climbing is that?"

Pull my phone back out, do all the scrolling over again... 

"More than two thousand feet. What do you think?"

"I don't know."

So after all that titty-dicking around, we finally pull into our first checkpoint at Squirrel Gap and Cantrell three hours into our day.  I pull out the passport to stamp it, and while I'm looking at the back page... shit.

"Hey, Watts.  Trace Ridge is one of the mandatories... so all the phone stuff was a waste of time."

"Fine."

And then I give him the good news and also the bad and also the worse.

We'll be able to get water outta the bathrooms twice on the out-and-back to Trace Ridge.

We're also going to see all the teams that are ahead of us coming right back in our faces so we can see how terribly we're doing... because obviously this is the only logical route to take for all five checkpoints?

And instead of two mandatory checkpoints, there are three this year... and they are the three hardest ones to get to.  The other two optional checkpoints are "easier" to nab (very relatively speaking), so we're pretty much going to have to get them all... and everyone... even the people shooting for the minimum four checkpoints, is in for a very, very long day.

Shit.