NECS #3/MMBA #2 Clifford Park Race Report

Elite 7th/10

Babs and I watched this movie the night before the race. I should have known it was a harbinger of evil!First, let me get the excuses out of the way to justify my piss-poor performance:
1. Lapped traffic.
2. Technical, flat courses are not my strong suit.
3. Had a long, tiring week putting the ice back in at the rink including 8hrs on Saturday.
4. Didn’t pre-ride the course.
5. Shoe cleat loosened enough to force me to stop and tighten it.
6. Did I mention I suck in the technical stuff?
There, I feel totally vindicated. Wait, no. I feel empty. Dang, I’m a crybaby! Oh, who cares!
Woke up Sunday morning and checked in with the fam. Drake had a fever and Babs had a migraine on Saturday so they’re attendance at the race was tenuous. Sunday found them in a similar state of disrepair, so I made the trek south solo. With the stupidest road repair project ever underway (295S is closed from Gardiner to Brunswick for tearing up and repaving. This after they repaved ½ of it last year! Pure stupidity. I predict next year the northbound lane will be closed because its actually worse!) I did the 495 thing which went smoothly. Arrived in plenty of time to debate whether or not to enter the Elite class. It was a $50 entry fee resulting in a cash purse payout, but it also meant I would miss an opportunity to score points towards the season-long Master of Mud award. French Freye was pushing me hard to do it because it meant more $ in his pocket! My decision was made based on my desire to compete at the highest level. It didn’t make sense to sandbag a lesser category. So off I went with 9 other guys in the dash for cash!
The initial start went great as I sat 3rd wheel behind Frenchie and O’Keefe but they soon slowed. Suddenly, just before the singletrack it felt like I was swarmed by a bunch of VietCong on bikes in the jungle (as if I would know what that was like!) and the rest of the field enveloped us. Michael Patrick was customarily flying through unchartered sections through the woods like a banchee! Somehow I ended up behind him once we were single file and tried to hold on. Shortly, we came upon a huge rock where you either leap off the face for a 4’ drop or make a turn early and roll alongside it. I got to the point where he jumped and I came to a complete stop. At this point, there were only 3 guys behind me and 1 right behind me and he was trusting me to ride the right line. Big mistake! So I hopped off the ledge (bike in hand) and kept going. The next challenge was a narrow rock bridge between to more huge boulders. I made it over, but stalled a bit on the step up after the bridge forcing the poor soul behind me to come to a stop on the “bridge.” Where do you put your foot down on a bridge? Nowhere! I heard him go down and just cringed! I stumbled and bobbled my way ahead and had more offs and dabs than I ever want to have again. The guy behind me persevered and passed (he deserved it!). However, I bridged the gap on the open section towards the start/finish and he waved me past. I think he called it quits right there. I’m sure he didn’t relish the thought of riding behind me again! So I enter the 2nd lap feeling like an ass and in total no-mans land with no targets ahead to reel in and no pressure behind. I rode a bit better and remembered the obstacles this time around, minimizing my time off the bike. On the 3rd lap lapped traffic was prominent. No offense to them as they were doing their best in the rough stuff. I didn’t feel like I deserved the track more than they since I was battling for last in my class so I didn’t pressure them at all. However, I soon realized it was not safe to just sit in behind them as they were unpredictable in all terrain. 1 guy came to a dead stop in front of me forcing me to dismount, but I couldn’t unclip in time (or so I thought) and I just timbered down behind him onto the rocks, ouch! Later that lap, I wrecked unexpectedly hitting some surprisingly slippery roots in the only muddy section of the course. On the final lap I sensed a clicking in my left shoe as I would pull up on my leg and noted how far I had to twist my foot to unclip. I realized my cleat was coming loose. I fought it for 2/3 of the final lap but it was getting more and more difficult to unclip at all and knowing there were technical sections and people to come, I decided to cut my losses and stop, take off the shoe, dig out the dirt from the bolts, and tighten them up. I pressed on but soon sensed my body failing me. My quads threatened to cramp but never actually did. My left forearm, however, seized up like a bent steel pipe and I couldn’t straighten it out! It was the weirdest feeling. It finally came around, but my ease was short-lived. My chain dropped and I straddled the bike and leaned over to fix it. Just then my left hamstring locked leaving me paralyzed and groaning in pain. This was not good! It went back to elastic after about 15 seconds. and I slogged on, this time in total damage control mode and content to ride it in with the lappers.

Suddenly I heard my name from behind and my fear of getting caught by the Experts was realized! Racin' Rick was battling with a solid Cat. 3 dude and were setting up for a fast finish. The last section of the course was essentially fast double track with 1 final challenging rocky section (which I walked on the 1st lap!). I was not going to go down without a fight so I called upon my last reserves and powered through everything to stay ahead and maintain the miniscule dignity that comes from finishing ahead of the Experts even though they started minutes after I did!

I sheepishly rolled to the car, assessed my bleeding body, chatted it up with other finishers and hit the road for some solitude and a flat, non-technical recovery road ride. I came back an hour later and they still hadn't hashed out the finish order. I had nothing to wait for so I headed home.

I lived to race another day, and am fueled for the next event, which is the NASCAR race @ Loudon, NH! Rubbin' is racin'!