RRV CX Report

Hat's off the crews from RRV, Crossniacs HTFU Syndicate, and Swing Thai, who put this race together. The creativity of taking what the park provided and making it into a CX course was top notch. The key feature of the course was the Linked Triad of Death that started with this little beauty

which was followed after about 10 meters by this gem

which then, after a 180 degree turn lead into a steep two-tiered uphill climb. Needless to say, not Clydesdale friendly. The best thing about this course was that it awarded those who truly had CX skills. Being able to handle off-camber turns, and have smooth transitions off and on the bike was a plus. I am not saying I have any of those...... just saying that they were a big benefit on this course. Dave over at Crossin-Colorado has some good video of the Linked Triad of Death here.

The race starts out well. I leverage the 5 BCR points I poached by being willing to drive up to BV to race into a call-up, albeit a 4th row call-up which meant that I was somewhere around 30 back. With 65 guys total, I am in my usual mid-pack bliss. The whistle blows and we are off up the long gravel uphill. Halfway up the hill, Shotty, who started on the row in front of me, is looking to get over to the right side where he can hit the gas and make up some spots. Knowing full well that my power-to-weight ratio is not going to help on this climb I demonstrate my pure pack riding genius and tell him "Come on over, you got room!" while I am still overlapping his rear with my front by a good three inches. Instantly, I am totally fixated at watching his wheel slowly move over closer to mine and my mind fills with the thought of how much it is going to hurt when I go down on this gravel with 10 guys right on my ass. Knowing I can't hit the brakes, I mouth the words "Ohhhhhh Shhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiit" and stop peddling. Luckily, a 210 lbs clydesdale slows down pretty fast when he stops peddling in soft gravel and I stay upright by missing his wheel by a good half inch. The course turns off of the gravel to the right onto a freshly mowed cow pasture. As we sweep around to the left, I get a push on the hip from the gent to my left letting me know he is there that knocks me off line and I watch my front wheel pass right across Shotty's rear again as we get to the top of the climb! Still in the fricken cow pasture, the course then does a long sweeping right hand turn and we head down the hill. Off to my right somewhere, I hear carnage.

Welcome to the 35+ Cat 4's where a guy will chop our wheel for that coveted 53rd place right in front of his two little girls that are yelling "Goooooo Daddy!". But I digress..... back to the story.

I know that if I can just stay upright for the first two laps, this course is hard enough that the race will string out and some semblance of safety will creep back into the mayhem that we are all now enforcing on each other. The downhill is broken apart by 4 successive off-camber turns, each has a smaller turning radius that the previous one. We are still running two and three wide when we hit these...... more carnage ensues. Tires rub, bikes and riders hit the deck, cussing, name-calling and instant critiques of riding ability are exchange. Off in the distance......"Gooooooo Daddy!"

Once off the hill the course goes over a set of double barriers followed closely behind by the first of two sand pits. Next is the climb back up the hill to the Linked Triad of Death. About 1/3 of the way up the climb you pass the park facilities which are staring to boil in the 80 degree heat of the day and give off their full olfactory array. Each time you go by, your body's desire to suck in as much oxygen as the atmosphere will allow results in a sensation and taste like you are using a cow's ass for an inhaler.

Once past the Linked Triad of Death at the top of the hill, the course turns onto a smooth single track that is slightly down hill. The secret here is to get your mind to overcome your body's desperate desire to recover and put on the power. Do that and you pick up a couple spots almost every lap. At the end of the single track is a set of off-camber sweeping turns that are getting softer as each racer chews up the course a bit more. The course finishes up by going back through a second, longer sand pit and some tight turns through a maze of trees before dropping you back on to the bottom of the gravel climb.

After I survived the first two laps, things started to string out. However, the highlights of the day were just about to get started.

French Tyre Torture -

On lap three, I am just about to bridge up to a rider as we head through the first suite of off-camber turns. On turn 2 of 4, he washes out the front end, goes down, and is immediately back up. He tries to hop over to the left side of the course (his back to me) before re-mounting so he does not back up traffic. This is indeed a noble gesture on his part. The problem is that I have already committed to passing by him on the left and promptly ram my Hutchison Piranha laden front wheel right between his legs. Full on French Tyre Torture! He is a tall fellow so I bury it all the way to the handle bars. Oh, that's just great.... now I got ass sweat all over my handlebars.....ewwwwww! I extricate and continue on.

Shotty's sand-capades - (Get Shotty's view of the events here)

On the latter half of lap 3, it catch up to Shotty. When you race each week against the same guys, you get a feel for where they are in ability compared to you. Shotty consistently finishes 10 spots or so ahead of me. So, I know that either something has gone wrong or he is on a very bad day. I figure he must of went down or had a mechanical and is about to start working his way back up through the field to is rightful place in the pack. One of the voices in my head shouts "OK Fatboy, just stay on his wheel and he will take you right up to the top 15. Stay on his wheel. Just stay on his wheel!" Shotty is full on the gas, but since we are heading down hill, I hang with him. As we are heading into the 2nd sand-pit I unclip the right leg, grab the down-tube and try to carry as much speed as possible before I run the pit. Not Shotty, he rides right into the sand pit going full power. After the race (and after half a beer) he told me "I figured I would hit that sand pit as hard as I could and see how far I could ride it". My response was "Well Chris, based on my front row seat of the event, I would say you can ride it about 8 feet". That sand pit ate his entire front wheel and he was over the bars so fast that I was looking down at him facing back up at me with only his bottom bracket to hinder our gaze. I was glad to see he was unharmed after the race.

Prang it up -

On Laps 4 and 5 me and another guy battle back and forth for position. He is a true roadie. He has a vastly superior power to lard ratio and leaves me in his dust on the smooth climbs. However as soon as it gets technical, I catch back up. As we hit the stairs on lap 4, he and another racer approach at a very safe pace. Each chooses a side of the stairs. I see my chance to make up two quick spots and split the gap between them like a sorority sister angling for the hot fudge pot at the Sunday ice cream social. I had watched them choose to run most of the Linked Triad of Death on the previous lap so I am sure that with a clean remount and some effort, I can make this move stick. So what do I do? I rush the remount, slam my leg into the back of the saddle, full-on bike prang it and grind some inner thigh flesh off on the rear tire. Said Boulder roadie comes around me and we spend the next lap with him leaving me gasping for air on the uphill sections of the course and me passing back on the technical sections. Next time through the stairs I pass him again. On the remount, I get on the saddle but totally miss the pedal with the right foot. Just before I go careening off the drop in, I get both feet back on the pedals. After watching this 2nd debacle, he finally weights in with a vote and shouts out "Dude, I feel sorry.......... for your wife!" All I can think is ..... good point, I shall apologize to her after the race. We do the same back and forth crap for another lap and for the third time come into the stairs with me right behind him. I pass, finally get the remount right and just like I had envisioned 3 laps earlier, I never see or hear from him again. He was probably right there the whole time..... I was too scared to look back.

I ended the day 22nd. Out of 65, that is all I can ask for. A final thanks to Adam from Alpha Cycles who gave the FMVC crew some desperately needed hand-ups.

Team FMVC collapsed in the shade and hit the chosen recovery drink of the day (courtesy of Rich) of Tripel Karmeliet and Delirium Tremens.

And now..... time out for some quick digital celluloid.

Dash Riprock expertly conceals his joy for this course!

Cap'n Slow

Figures out......

The problem with mo......

Or lack thereof it on the final part of the Linked Triad of Death.

Rich reaches for the special FMVC recovery sauce

while the team security detail watches for doping control.

After proper recover (aided by some of Kevin's homebrew after we finished off Rich's beer supply) it was time to watch Tom and one of the FMVC's new skinny fast guys race. The TH is on loan to FMVC from the IC3 boys for the CX season and Matt found the FMVC crew via Shotty. Matt is a we bit fast on the bike for the true FMVC crowd, but he is a damn good guy so we threw a wool jersey his way. Matt was on a terror this day. He worked his way to the front on the first couple laps and then put the hammer down to finish 2nd for the 2nd week in a row. Tom bagged another bevy of points in the Single Speed Cat. He now leads all FMVC'ers in points.

The TH gives a clydedale's review of the Linked Triad of Death.

For some reason, I got it stuck in my head that Matt

looks just like Tim Johnson. No... not Tim Johnson the Senator

And no.... Not Tim Johnson from Penn State of old.

Nor Tim Johnson from the Blue Jays.

He does not have a band.

He does not sing with Sierra Cowboy Riders (that we know of)

Sure as hell not this guy!

OK, that guy's name isn't even Tim Johnson, it is just a frightening photo that pops up when you do a google image search on Tim Johnson.

He does not really remind me much of Tim Johnson the great white hunter either......

Ah yes, Here is the Tim Johnson I was thinking about...

Matt is a clone......Don't ya think?