My Empire of Dirt

You could have it all, my empire of dirt... I will let you down, I will make you hurt.

The Short:  I prefer the Johnny Cash cover of "Hurt," mostly because he sounds about like I felt after a lap or two of JourneyCross, in Cordova, TN, for a 4th in CX 4.  Like he really did rule an empire of dirt, like he really was just tired of the pain.

The Long:  we knew it would be rain or shine...there was an extra reminding us that "shine" was only one of the two options.  But this was the last scheduled 'cross race (at least locally) and so Davis and I were off to race it, hell or high water.  Both of which we got.  We arrived early, and it was indeed a bit chilly and rainy.  A quick preride confirmed too that the course, while beautifully designed and thoroughly prepared by Memphis's finest local cross addicts, would be challenging--at best. 

The Course

Starting with a straight shot down the parking lot, the track took to the grass, winding up into the first barriers (non-bunnyhoppable, the race organizers helpfully pointed out); it bounced up and down before turning to a long straight service drive, dipped left into a boggy section of long grass.  It then went into the woods for a couple hundred yards of singletrack, came out, bounced up and over a hairpin, through a ditch, and then through another long-grass section.  It then passed through a final set of hairpins and one more barrier before turning up along the church and into the lot for the finish.  The whole lap on easy warmup took 6 or 7 minutes, which might have been my fastest time of the day, since it soon got pretty soft and torn up (just like my legs).

Stagin' in the Rain... (pics pilfered from teh interwebz)

Once the B race got started a couple fast juniors took off; as per my habit, I stayed up near the front, letting someone else set the pace and pick the lines, but holding my own.  Until the ditch on the backside, when I dropped my front wheel into the muck and boffed the dismount, ending up sitting on the ground watching places 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 move right on past me.  A little discouraged, I took my time getting up, slogged through another lap, and seriously considered stepping off the bike when I dropped my front wheel into the ditch on lap 2, executing a perfect faceplant endo.  Luckily, the wrist took it well, but that had about taken the steam out of my race. 

On the switchbacks, I could see some of the leaders--they weren't that far ahead--and I could see Davis floating along on 30+ pounds of aluminum and fat tires, sucking the race leaders' wheels.  I suffered, and not athletically, feeling the cold, the rain, the mud, the lack of handling skills.  I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.  I ran more than some racers, but it cost me a lot to get off the bike--I might have been better off slipping, tipping, and dabbing through some of those sections.  On the next-to-last lap, I discovered the right side of the trail and a very wide left turn into the back switchbacks let me carry much more speed and stay on the bike a lot longer through that section.  Surprising myself, I began to pass a few riders (sometimes running while they pedaled) and close down some of the big gaps that had opened up.  Some of the other 4s, while usually very strong, didn't look like they were enjoying the mud any more than I was.  Some dude was having a little fun with us, holding out a handful of small bills one lap, but I was too deep in the pain cave to realize what it was until too late.  In the end, I stayed on the gas for the last lap and tried to pull it in strong.  40 minutes never felt so long...nevermind--it was only 37.  Crap.

"Racing"

Davis, however, had done much better, using the nasty conditions to his advantage and riding to a win in CX4 (3rd in the B race, right behind some excellent juniors).  He actually seemed to enjoy the whole thing, which kind of mystified me.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner.

Afterwards, we wandered around until we found an unsupervised hose and "cleaned" our bikes and selves off a little before collecting Davis's trophy, jumping in the car, and grabbing some evil corporate delicious strbx for the way home. 

The lessons learned?  All that fancy equipment don't matter if you can't stay on it.  I'm glad I have a 'cross bike, and about as glad that it's not my only bike.  I'm still not sure I've ever actually warmed up for a CX race.  A lot of doing well in those conditions is mental:  accepting or even believing that you enjoy mud-sleet.  I don't know how I would have to train in order to surge and recover properly in a race that short.  And finally, I don't care--my first spring training plan is about to start.  This was good for a little fitness, but...bring on road season!

CX Redux: Mid-South CX Championship

The short:  3rd place CX4, a little more 'cross practice, and some free schwag.

The long: 

In a previous lifetime, I knew Outdoors, Inc. in Memphis as a retail haven for people with my borderline antisocial-slash-petrophile tendencies, and a good place to buy replacement quickdraws, wool socks, and fuel cannisters for my stove.  But after giving up on rock climbing in the delta and trading in crash pads for...well, padless crashing, I guess...I have come to appreciate OI's role in the cycling community as well. 

OI has now sponsored 26 editions of one of the best-attended, funnest cross races in the mid-south.  In some ways, that's might be big-fish-small-pond, but 26 years of anything, much less jumping barriers and redlining into the Mississippi floodplain wind, is pretty impressive.  That means they were doing cyclocross before it was trendy, before you could get a fine Belgian ale in every Philadelphia pub, long before Louisville ever imagined they'd be hosting the world championships...back when mountain bikers had no choice but to become roadies in November, Memphis was there doing the 'cross thing.

I was pleased to have a cross race within an hour and a half drive, and with no hesitation I recruited Davis and Clay to help share the ride, and we booked it up to Mud Island on race day.  It was cool, overcast, and a little blustery, but just about right for racing.  A quick preride confirmed the course would be fast and fun, with no really technical sections to annoy roadies with no handling skills.  From the start/finish, it bounced up and down an embankment a few times, making an offcamber turn or two into a wattage-sapping grassy level, a short run-up some stairs, up and down the bank a few more times, over a fast triple barrier, and down the long start-finish straight into the wind.  And then do it all again. 

After seeing off some kids races, the B race got going.  Remembering my first race, when a number of fast riders just took off early and never came back, I planned to hammer a bit harder at the beginning, especially since I wasn't worried about taking singletrack on the 'cross bike.  I stayed up front, leading for a while--not working too hard, but setting an honest pace, and the usual suspects started to pass and pull away. 

I'm not sure I had any business leading these guys, but they rectified the situation soon enough.

That was fine, although it became evident that I might have been tired, or may have pushed too hard early, because there were a few more people than I really wanted in front of me as the race went on.  It was windy enough that we were frequently sighting trailing and leading riders, which helped me stay motivated and on the gas.  Late in the race, I thought I felt a slow leak, and since there weren't many riders around, I contemplated just trying to get to the finish on inflated rubber.  One or two more riders passed me, and I calculated that I was probably fourth in CX4.  It turned out I had just underinflated the rear tire and failed to really feel it until my late-race mentality set in, and it also turned out that at least one of the 4s, racing well in front of me, was actually racing masters.  So I pulled in best I could to find out later that I had actually made top 3 in the 4s.  I'll take it. 

Davis on the triple barrier

Davis and Clay had both turned in strong performances on mountain bikes, Clay on the singlespeed Chupacabra picking up places on the little uphills.  Frikkin' skinny climber.  But Clay did produce the big win of the day by using his insider knowledge to point us to Huey's in midtown, where we enjoyed the now sunny and warm afternoon.  A cool brew, a massive burger, and some gargantuan onion rings later, we were back on the road to OxVegas.