Rocks, Racing, and Rowdy Locals

If you would have asked me two weeks ago if I was going to race the Tucker County Trails Blackwater Classic mountain bike race in Davis, WV, especially after two really difficult races where I almost exploded from the heat, I would have considered punching you in the throat.  But as with most horrible experiences, time heals the wounds and I soon forgot the pain and suffering of the last two races.

A week and a half prior to race day, a small group of us, including CER’s own Jason Stewart, pre-rode some of the race course just to see what we might be getting ourselves into.  What we found were great trails cut into the edge of Canaan Valley that ranged from swooping singletrack to wide-open doubletrack to rocks piled on top of rocks on top of bigger rocks to the top of one big rock called Moon Rocks…we’ll get to that later.

After the preride, no one was sure they would come back to race since we were all pretty beat up from the rocky terrain.  But the week of the race I finally decided I was heading up to Davis, if for nothing else, than to survive and hopefully pick something off the prize table.  Scott H., riding buddy of CER team members, opted in for some abuse on race day too.  Misery always loves company.   

During the week before the race, I had convinced myself that I was racing for 2^nd place.  To help you understand why, let me explain.  For one, I knew I would be racing against a local that was a good rider when the terrain got rocky and technical, secondly, he had beaten me by over 4 minutes the last time we met because he also races well in extreme heat, and thirdly, he lives in Davis and rides the trails that were part of the course on a regular basis.  Around Thursday before the race while sitting on the trainer doing power intervals, I had a Ricky Bobby moment, through the “encouragement” of my wife Rachel.  I told her how I felt and that I would be happy with second, and in not so many words she told me that if I wasn’t winnin’, I was losin’! and that I had better go up there to win or don’t bother racing.  After Thursday evening, second place was not an option thanks to the pep talk from my loving wife…no offense Chris Carmichael, but it wasn’t your training DVD!

My bike had been shifting horribly in the front chainrings and I finally  noticed I had lost a bolt.  Bingo, mystery shifting problem solved.   I also had a wobble in each of my wheels, so off to Pike Street Bikes I went to get a replacement bolt and my wheels trued.  I can’t say enough about Jason Martin and the rest of the staff at Pike Street Bikes in downtown Shinnston, WV.  When I got to the shop, Jason was on his way out of the shop for a weekend with his family at Snowshoe.  He took the time to find a bolt that would fit, install it, torque all the other bolts on my drivetrain…and…true both my wheels to perfection.  That’s service!

After a frantic run through the house to collect gear and get the car loaded (it was actually about 20 frantic runs), I picked up Scott in Fairmont and sped toward Davis.  We rolled into Davis about an hour before start time, I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich (secret weapon), got registered at Blackwater Bikes downtown, then drove over to the starting line to get a close parking spot.  As I was gearing up, I spotted my main competitor, let’s just call him Blackwater Bikes Guy (BBG), pass our car while warming up on the gravel road.  This prompted the internal dialogue between my brain and my legs, 

“Listen up Brain, we’re gonna need you calm today, no freaking out, no whining, try to pick some good lines for a change, and don’t send us into any trees today, OK!!!”

“Thanks for the pep talk Legs, but NO S—T!  Think you can actually keep the pedals moving in circles today?!?  Try to not start screaming like babies 5 minutes into the race this time!”

As this internal debate raged on, I hopped on the bike and started my own warmup.  The last two races were so miserably hot, 96 and 103 degrees respectively, that I couldn’t warm my legs up without overheating.  With the temperature in the mid-80s for the day, I was able to get my legs firing and my heart rate stable enough for a suitable warmup.  Besides the PB&J, the warmup is a crucial part of my race preparation and I can always tell when it’s not.  I got such a long warmup in, I was afraid I wasn’t going to get to the start in time, but I made with 5 minutes to spare, but the extended warmup cost me a spot in the front at the starting line.  The starting line consisted of no less than 4 Blackwater Bikes team riders, two of them in my class…damn!  Home-course advantage and front of the line for the start.  Oh well, I wasn’t so worried about being first into the woods today, since the first mile or so had plenty of places to pass slower riders, and it also gave me a chance to watch BBG and gauge how well he was riding.

5…4…3…2…GO!!!  The whistle blew, and the guys out front pegged it down the gravel road for several hundred yards toward the first jeep road.  I was able to move up in position quickly as we flew down the gravel road until a young buck from Dirty Harry’s Bike Shop cut the curve on the road way too far to the inside, driving me and some others toward the ditch.  I backed off ever so slightly and turned my front wheel into his rear wheel just enough to move him a little and send a friendly reminder that such shenanigans would not be tolerated.  As we hit the jeep road and started climbing, I was able to pass enough folks to get myself on the back wheels of BBG and his sidekick (also in my class), and toward the top 15 going into the tighter singletrack.

The first few miles were relatively open and “smooth” with no real challenges except for the other racers.  About a mile and half in, I noticed BBG had slowed down a bit from his super-fast pace at the start.  On the next small hill, I decided to test BBG’s fitness even further and launched off the trail beside him for the pass and hammered away to see what he had in the tank.  He looked over at me in bewilderment, shook his head and didn’t seem to even try to respond to my attack.  BBG had beaten me in our last two meetings, both times by over 4 minutes.  The first was due to a broken spoke and flat tire, and the last he just out-rode me in the heat.  He was probably a little shocked that I was able to chase him down so early in the race, so I kept the throttle wide-open and made sure to get out of his sight quickly.

The trails soon dropped down toward the creek and things went from “smooth” to rocky and technical.  I had the luxury of riding behind BBG’s sidekick, also a local, while he shouted out all the “local” lines through the rocky sections.  This didn’t last long as he bobbled through a particularly bad section of rocks and I pressed on.  This was roughly 4 miles into a 16 mile race and I was fairly certain I was leading my category.  I was also fairly certain that BBG and his sidekick would be hunting me down and may just catch me as the last half of the course went from rocky to utterly-ridiculous.

The course headed up from the creek and starting climbing quickly in elevation.  There were four riders that I was with for several miles, until we got to the steep, punchy climbs up to the Moon Rocks section.  Most of the riders jumped off their bikes and began walking the steep section up to the old strip mine, but I was able to stay in the saddle and motor past them creating a substantial gap.  I kept wondering if this was a good idea, since my legs were taking a beating already, but the power kept flowing to the pedals, so I hammered on up toward the barren summit of the Moon Rocks.  Moon Rocks, as the locals call it, is an exposed hill-top that contrary to its name, is not many rocks, but just one big, steep, erosion-rutted slab of course sandstone.  This section is rideable, IF you know the lines and are willing to power through some really technical riding.  I didn’t really know the "local" lines, but was able to follow a faint trail of mud and dirt on the preferred path up and through the maze of cracks and ruts that were carved into the rock.  When I finally crested the top, having only to walk a short section of Moon Rocks, I didn’t see any other riders behind me, so I put the hammer down once again on the rest of the climb to the top of the Rocky Downhill section of the course.

The Rocky Downhill is just that…but worse than the name implies.  I’ve ridden downhills that were “rocky” by most standards, but this was rock, after rock, after more rocks, after bigger rocks, after even bigger, sharper rocks.  I don’t remember too much of this section, oddly enough, just that my arms and legs were more exhausted after this downhill, than the previous uphill section.  Somehow, I was able to keep the bike upright through the entire section, solidifying my lead and adding some buffer in case of a mishap.

It was through this section, that two Expert Class racers went by me, making it look all too easy, but I guess that’s why they’re experts.  Seeing them go by so quickly gave me a little extra boost to follow them as long as I could.  Back down in the valley, the terrain mellowed out enough to get into a groove and really rip the twisty, flowing sections through waist-high ferns.  Another Expert passed me a mile from the finish, and I did my best to lock onto his back wheel and ride as hard as my tired legs would allow.  The last mile of the course opens up quite a bit and you can see folks way ahead of you and way behind.  I kept looking back through this section to make sure no one was sneaking up on me, especially BBG or his sidekick, but every time I looked back, it was empty trail..woo hoo!

I came around the last left-hand turn to hear the crowd at the finish clapping as I crossed the finish line and confirmed that I had won my class, and from the number, or lack thereof, of racers hanging around the finish line, I had done very well overall.

This was a tough, tough course which took its toll on everyone that day, so I was happy to have finished so strongly, and most importantly, without serious injury to me or the bike.  There was a snafu with the computerized results, so the timing officials only had their hand-written results to rely on, so full results weren’t available until later the following week, but they were still able to have the awards, where they confirmed my category win and handed me a nice gift certificate to Blackwater Bikes in Davis.  In the end, it was a very good day on the bike, first in category, 9^th overall out of over 50 Sport class racers, and I beat the locals on their home course.

This win put me in strong 2^nd place and only a few points behind the leader in the WVBMA series.

Here is a link to the results and a link to some photos taken during the race.

Next up is the White Park Throwdown in Morgantown, WV, which is the series finale for the ABRA Mtn Bike Series.  Really looking forward to this course!  Come out and watch the action all day, Sunday, August 5, from 10am to 3pm. The course is very spectator friendly, and in Morgantown!