Well the second weekend of racing has drawn to a close, and what a great experience!
The Simonton Windows Challenge at Mountwood mountain bike race was Sunday, May 3rd at Mountwood Park in Volcano, WV. The day dawned cool and rainy, with temperatures hovering in the mid 50's and showers forecasted throughout the day. Not that this was a big change from the entire week prior. The Mid Ohio Valley had received around 3 inches of rain in the past five days, nearly three times the normal amount for this time of year. The rain had turned not only the trails, but the parking lots and grassy areas of Mountwood park into a muddy mess. All of the mud and rain wasnt able to deter some racers though, and The Mountwood Challenge was over 150 riders strong!
I myself had contemplated not attending this race. I was concerned with my recovery from the New Martinsville Road race as I was still a little fatigued mid-week, however by Thursday I was feeling pretty good and decided to test my legs out on some of the local trails. I had planned on pre-riding the Mountwood course, but with the rain and some scheduling conflicts I decided that a few laps of the Marietta High School trails were in order. Unfortunately, Thursday turned out to be an off day...not physically, but mentally. I was timing my laps and was unhappy with my splits, plus my brakes were acting up, and to top it all off...it was raining again. I did 2.5 laps and was fed up, so I spun home angrily not sure if I would be attending Mountwood or not. Friday morning was spent on the trainer, spinning easily to loosen my legs up and try to reorganize my thoughts. That evening I decided to change out my brakes and take a ride Saturday morning to see how I felt (I was reserving judgement until then).
Saturday turned out to be a fairly nice day and once I had my brakes dialed in, I took a short tempo ride with some threshold efforts thrown in to gauge my recovery. In a complete 180 from Thursday's ride, I felt amazing. My climbs were effortless, I could attack repeatedly and recovered quickly after each effort, and my bike was tuned perfectly. With this huge mental boost, I determined that rain or shine I would be on the start line at Mountwood the next day.
As was the case the week before, my "pit crew" and I arrived to the race venue an hour before the race was to start. I stretched, registered, donned tights and arm warmers, and then spent 20 minutes warming up on the roads surrounding the park. Whereas in a road race (and some MTB events) all classes start together in a mass, Mountwood was set up as a staggered start. Following the race meeting I found the staging area for my class and picked a spot mid pack. My confidence was higher this week compared to the start of the NM road race, but I still wasnt exactly sure what to expect of some of my competitors. I figured it was better to start conservative and move up as I was able. Our class watched as the classes in front of us started at 1-2 minute intervals. While road racing starts with a controlled roll, mountain bike racing is all about the "hole shot" and starts are anything but "controlled". As the whistle blew, each class tore out of the start area like madmen, trying to edge one another out of the coveted first position on the trail. It was crazy, semi-organized chaos as the racers hit the bottleneck turn out of the parking lot and spun out of sight along the approach road to the first climbs of the day.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it was our turn. The front guys toed the line as the race official gave last minute instructions on turn-offs and abandonment rules. He blew the whistle and we were off! Everyone was out of their saddle for the first 100 yards winding out to the first bottleneck. I was positioned well on the inside and moved forward a bit ahead of the largest bulge of the mass of cyclists about to try to hit the same line all at once. The front part of our group made it through the turn a bit ahead of the pack as they didnt have to slow for the turn. We were on the approach road and everyone was chasing for a wheel and changing up to the big ring. As we hit the first few undulations along the road, I noticed a few riders in front of me faulter. That was all I needed and flipped to a bigger gear, was out of the seat and attacking. I was feeling good and didnt have any chasers, so when I crested the small roller I kept the hammer down. Up ahead the route transitioned from pavement to trail and I could already see the first pack hitting the climb. I rolled into the corner with a group of 5-6 and we began the steady ascent out of the valley. The first climb was along a fireroad with plenty of passing opportunities, so I settled into a tempo gear and started grinding away. It wasnt long before some of my group began to fade, so I worked around a few of the riders and checked the front two guys. I could tell by their faces they were already in the red. I felt strong and decided right then that all of those hill repeats on the road had paid off. I kicked it to a higher gear and cranked away from my group, quickly overtaking a few stragglers from the pack that had hit the climb first. I continued in this fashion up the rest of the climb, overtaking approximately half a dozen more riders before topping out on the ridge.
At this point the trail narrowed and was turned into a muddy soup after having 100+ other riders on it. I was feeling very good. I was sitting in 4th or 5th position now, but was separated from the contenders in my class by 3 or 4 struggling racers from the class above ours. I knew there was at least one more area where passing would be possible, so I matched tempo with the rider in front of me and focused on staying upright for the next 45 minutes. No passing opportunities came as we weaved through the large hardwood trees of Appalachia and several riders were strewn along the trail, having succumbed to broken chains or flattened tires. And while the first climbs of the day were long and relentless, at least they were semi graveled, as now when the trail turned upwards (which it seemed to do with ever increasing frequency) the slopes were slick and muddy, often covered in crisscrossing tree roots. We were running up as many hills as we rode, but the pace stayed the same - as hard as we could handle.
We came out onto another open section which I knew from the race map was my last real chance to pass, so I pulled aside from the rider I was pacing with and hammered. I managed to pull into second place at this point and was feeling confident...probably too much so. I was within 7-8 bike lengths of the rider in first and was catching glimpses of him through the trees. We came to a technical rolling flat and I began my attack. I was up in the mid ring with a good spin and could tell I was gaining ground on him. At the end of the flat the trail pitched left down a hairy descent to a bridge crossing. I was flying and redlined, but confident. I was within striking distance and knew I could catch him. My tires touched the ground a total of maybe three times down the descent and then I was on the approach to the bridge. I hopped up on the bridge and...then nothing. It didnt even feel like my tires made contact with the bridge boards as my bike shot out from under me to the left. At full speed, I slammed chest first into the floor boards and skittered all the way across the bridge to the other side. Dazed I was picking my bike up as an official ran over, but I waved him off and was already back on the saddle trying to switch up a gear. I hadnt lost any place standings with that mistake, but I did lose the race to the guy off the front. I was so cranked I didnt even feel the impact of the crash, I was just trying to make up my lost time. Unfortunately, it was no use and as I came down the final descent out of the woods I glimpsed his jersey take the turn onto the final concourse to the line. I kept glancing behind me for the third place challenger, but I was apparently several minutes ahead of him. I crossed the line 20 seconds off of first place, but was elated to have made the podium.
Just like my road race the week prior, this race was painful, however I have begun to relish rather than shy from the pain. As they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And since I am not dead yet, I would say this race season is going to be quite interesting! I am taking a break this weekend for Mother's Day but will resume racing on May 17th at an Ohio Mountain Biking Conference XC race at the Wilds in Cambridge, OH. I will keep you posted!
The Simonton Windows Challenge at Mountwood mountain bike race was Sunday, May 3rd at Mountwood Park in Volcano, WV. The day dawned cool and rainy, with temperatures hovering in the mid 50's and showers forecasted throughout the day. Not that this was a big change from the entire week prior. The Mid Ohio Valley had received around 3 inches of rain in the past five days, nearly three times the normal amount for this time of year. The rain had turned not only the trails, but the parking lots and grassy areas of Mountwood park into a muddy mess. All of the mud and rain wasnt able to deter some racers though, and The Mountwood Challenge was over 150 riders strong!
I myself had contemplated not attending this race. I was concerned with my recovery from the New Martinsville Road race as I was still a little fatigued mid-week, however by Thursday I was feeling pretty good and decided to test my legs out on some of the local trails. I had planned on pre-riding the Mountwood course, but with the rain and some scheduling conflicts I decided that a few laps of the Marietta High School trails were in order. Unfortunately, Thursday turned out to be an off day...not physically, but mentally. I was timing my laps and was unhappy with my splits, plus my brakes were acting up, and to top it all off...it was raining again. I did 2.5 laps and was fed up, so I spun home angrily not sure if I would be attending Mountwood or not. Friday morning was spent on the trainer, spinning easily to loosen my legs up and try to reorganize my thoughts. That evening I decided to change out my brakes and take a ride Saturday morning to see how I felt (I was reserving judgement until then).
Saturday turned out to be a fairly nice day and once I had my brakes dialed in, I took a short tempo ride with some threshold efforts thrown in to gauge my recovery. In a complete 180 from Thursday's ride, I felt amazing. My climbs were effortless, I could attack repeatedly and recovered quickly after each effort, and my bike was tuned perfectly. With this huge mental boost, I determined that rain or shine I would be on the start line at Mountwood the next day.
As was the case the week before, my "pit crew" and I arrived to the race venue an hour before the race was to start. I stretched, registered, donned tights and arm warmers, and then spent 20 minutes warming up on the roads surrounding the park. Whereas in a road race (and some MTB events) all classes start together in a mass, Mountwood was set up as a staggered start. Following the race meeting I found the staging area for my class and picked a spot mid pack. My confidence was higher this week compared to the start of the NM road race, but I still wasnt exactly sure what to expect of some of my competitors. I figured it was better to start conservative and move up as I was able. Our class watched as the classes in front of us started at 1-2 minute intervals. While road racing starts with a controlled roll, mountain bike racing is all about the "hole shot" and starts are anything but "controlled". As the whistle blew, each class tore out of the start area like madmen, trying to edge one another out of the coveted first position on the trail. It was crazy, semi-organized chaos as the racers hit the bottleneck turn out of the parking lot and spun out of sight along the approach road to the first climbs of the day.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it was our turn. The front guys toed the line as the race official gave last minute instructions on turn-offs and abandonment rules. He blew the whistle and we were off! Everyone was out of their saddle for the first 100 yards winding out to the first bottleneck. I was positioned well on the inside and moved forward a bit ahead of the largest bulge of the mass of cyclists about to try to hit the same line all at once. The front part of our group made it through the turn a bit ahead of the pack as they didnt have to slow for the turn. We were on the approach road and everyone was chasing for a wheel and changing up to the big ring. As we hit the first few undulations along the road, I noticed a few riders in front of me faulter. That was all I needed and flipped to a bigger gear, was out of the seat and attacking. I was feeling good and didnt have any chasers, so when I crested the small roller I kept the hammer down. Up ahead the route transitioned from pavement to trail and I could already see the first pack hitting the climb. I rolled into the corner with a group of 5-6 and we began the steady ascent out of the valley. The first climb was along a fireroad with plenty of passing opportunities, so I settled into a tempo gear and started grinding away. It wasnt long before some of my group began to fade, so I worked around a few of the riders and checked the front two guys. I could tell by their faces they were already in the red. I felt strong and decided right then that all of those hill repeats on the road had paid off. I kicked it to a higher gear and cranked away from my group, quickly overtaking a few stragglers from the pack that had hit the climb first. I continued in this fashion up the rest of the climb, overtaking approximately half a dozen more riders before topping out on the ridge.
At this point the trail narrowed and was turned into a muddy soup after having 100+ other riders on it. I was feeling very good. I was sitting in 4th or 5th position now, but was separated from the contenders in my class by 3 or 4 struggling racers from the class above ours. I knew there was at least one more area where passing would be possible, so I matched tempo with the rider in front of me and focused on staying upright for the next 45 minutes. No passing opportunities came as we weaved through the large hardwood trees of Appalachia and several riders were strewn along the trail, having succumbed to broken chains or flattened tires. And while the first climbs of the day were long and relentless, at least they were semi graveled, as now when the trail turned upwards (which it seemed to do with ever increasing frequency) the slopes were slick and muddy, often covered in crisscrossing tree roots. We were running up as many hills as we rode, but the pace stayed the same - as hard as we could handle.
We came out onto another open section which I knew from the race map was my last real chance to pass, so I pulled aside from the rider I was pacing with and hammered. I managed to pull into second place at this point and was feeling confident...probably too much so. I was within 7-8 bike lengths of the rider in first and was catching glimpses of him through the trees. We came to a technical rolling flat and I began my attack. I was up in the mid ring with a good spin and could tell I was gaining ground on him. At the end of the flat the trail pitched left down a hairy descent to a bridge crossing. I was flying and redlined, but confident. I was within striking distance and knew I could catch him. My tires touched the ground a total of maybe three times down the descent and then I was on the approach to the bridge. I hopped up on the bridge and...then nothing. It didnt even feel like my tires made contact with the bridge boards as my bike shot out from under me to the left. At full speed, I slammed chest first into the floor boards and skittered all the way across the bridge to the other side. Dazed I was picking my bike up as an official ran over, but I waved him off and was already back on the saddle trying to switch up a gear. I hadnt lost any place standings with that mistake, but I did lose the race to the guy off the front. I was so cranked I didnt even feel the impact of the crash, I was just trying to make up my lost time. Unfortunately, it was no use and as I came down the final descent out of the woods I glimpsed his jersey take the turn onto the final concourse to the line. I kept glancing behind me for the third place challenger, but I was apparently several minutes ahead of him. I crossed the line 20 seconds off of first place, but was elated to have made the podium.
Just like my road race the week prior, this race was painful, however I have begun to relish rather than shy from the pain. As they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And since I am not dead yet, I would say this race season is going to be quite interesting! I am taking a break this weekend for Mother's Day but will resume racing on May 17th at an Ohio Mountain Biking Conference XC race at the Wilds in Cambridge, OH. I will keep you posted!
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