...And Pffft You Were Gone.

Title courtesy of Hee Haw.


This weekend was the Castle Cross CX race down in Castle Rock. This is a new course for Colorado. I had heard rumors that this was going to be a very tough course with over 500 feet of vertical per lap. Add to that the fact that Castle Rock had received a fair amount of moisture out of the mid-week storm, the course could be down right epic. When the season CX schedule came out this year, I circled two races I wanted to for sure do, Buena Vista and Castle Rock. BV had the added benefit that I had family there. But the main factor for both was to provide support to two first year races that I figured might not get the support they would need to be back next year. BV's issue was distance from Boulder. Castle Rock's was competing events. Castle Cross is the first CX race to go up against the cycling extravaganza that is VeloSwap in many years. I had repeatedly told my annual VeloSwap employer that I would not be there in the morning so that I could race.

So, a racing I went!

I showed up, paid my $, chatted up the JocDoc for a bit, and then changed into the kit to go see what the course offered.

Oh, Good Lord!!!!

300 meters into the course and I was sure wishing those Hutchison Bulldogs I ordered with their mud tread had showed up this week. However, the new tubeless wheels that Jon at Grinder Bikes built up for me had a brand new pair of Hutchison Piranhas on them and that was that. As I went around the course, I continued to let air out to get better traction until I got them as soft as I dared. I took it down to where I would bottom out in one of the mud filled crossings but all seemed good. I ended with 30 psi in the front and 32 in the rear. For this Clydesdale, these numbers are at least 8 psi lower than I had ever run in my life. Yikes, I was sure hoping my new Stan's ZTRs are all they are supposed to be!

15 ft into the first run-up and..... note to self.... go put in toe-spikes before race start.

One thing was blatantly obvious about this course....... it was designed by a little skinny guy who really has a hate on for Clydesdales and their limited power-to-weight ratios. I did not know you could build a loop course that did nothing but climb.... but somehow they did it. On a hot dry day, this course would crush me. But on the day of Castle CX, it was covered in mud, water, snow and ice for some down right epic race conditions. I was going to hurt.... but with the mud.... it was going to be damn fun racing.

So, these days, call ups go 60 deep and I am somewhere in the high 50's with my 5 points that I poached in BV. Get this, that gets me a 2nd row callup! There sure seems to be a lot of guys saving themselves for States already. After my name is called, I pick a spot right behind Aaron Z. [Looking back on it now.... there are only two reasons I can think of why I picked that spot: 1) Aaron was by far the biggest guy on the front line and I just wanted to be close to someone my size; or 2) it was the closest and most convenient spot to line up on.] and I am about to find out what a good choice I made. I take a quick look back and I am really glad to see a solid turnout of close to 50 or so in the Beer-Drinkin-Dad League. Hopefully the other cats have as good a turnout and that will be enough that the promoter will want to bring back Castle Cross next year.

The whistle blows and we are off. Holy snikies are we off. Aaron and I are on the far right side of the start grid and the course does nothing but left turns on the run-out to the 1st single-track so we got the long way. No matter, that dude is on a mission! I peg it as hard as I can to hold his wheel and I see most of the guys on the left hand side drop behind us. We head into the singletrack and I am sitting 7th wheel. Now folks, since I have never raced in a class that only had 7 entrants, I have never been as high up as 7th wheel. Hell, I have never been in the top 10 at the start of a race! Granted, with the effort I just put in, I am sitting at about 95% of my max heart rate, but there I am none the less. I tell myself, "Enjoy it while it lasts, when we hit the climbs you are going to look like you got caught out of the draft at Taladega." Indeed, we hit an extended climb section a couple guys come by me on the first lap. But ......that's it. WTF? I never got a chance to look back at the race, but if it was anything like the 35 opens that went just before us, the mud/ice/snow/water covered single track detonated the field. On lap two, I figure that my time is done and the goat boys are ready to go. But not really... I lose a couple spots but then pick one back up.

We head into the 3rd lap and I am still upright and in the top 10. What is even more disturbing is that I have gotten the heart rate back under control and am racing within the limits. Thinking that I might actually finish in the points, I channel some Barry Muzzin ..... "Enough of this Sunday stroll ladies, let's make it hurt."

About half way through the third lap, I come out of a corner hard trying to up the pace. The tubeless setup running the low pressure is really working nicely in this mud. I blow the line coming out of the turn a bit wide and end up off the single track and into the tall grass about 6" off course. No worries..... just keep the power on. Yeah...... power on alright.... right until the front wheel pounds into a rock hiding in the grass. Instantly, I hear pfft.....pffft....pffft... and I know that I have cut the sidewall. The front tire is spitting Stan's latex so bad it looks just like this.

Just like that, my race is done. I got no wheels in the pit even if I did the half mile run to get there.

I lose it. I am beside myself for pulling such a stupid maneuver and I act the way any grown man would. I first pull a Riis.... or was it a Millar..... nope.... looking at the two, it was definitely a Riis. Then I proceed to scream obsenities and kick in the mud like Lou Piniella on a bad day. Shotty, Chris J, and a couple others blow by. Each gives me a "Dude!" as they roll through. Not sure if it was a "Dude... that is really a bummer mechanical" or a "Dude! Awesome tantrum!". After 30 seconds, it is all over. Calm now, I pick up the bike and do the walk of disgust across the field. One of my old college room-mates and his wife had come out to see me race for the first time. As I walk up to him I innocently ask "Hey, did you catch all that?" He does not have to answer. There are 5 young ladies, each around 8 years old sitting on the sidewalk in front of him. They all say in unison...."Yes, we saw AND heard it!" Nice.... A proud moment indeed. Fairly humiliated, I go hose off the mud, change and head off to VeloSwap to where I know that I will get a nice ration from the rest of the FMVC team.

I am on the germ tube to spend the week in smell-A so no training this week. Looks like I am going to miss some nice winter training.

Thanks for reading,

Tantrum boy.