Island. Lake. Dry.

This was the second race of the Tailwind USAC series, 2013.  The announcer said this was the first (MTB) race at ILRA since 1996.  I wasn't involved in the local scene then, so I can neither confirm nor deny. Actually, that year was probably the first or second year of my mountain biking period.

Coming off a decent showing at Mud, Sweat and Beers, I wasn't sure what to expect.  The weather was cool, and I am getting tired of being cold changing into my kit.  I haven't raced yet this year without needing arm warmers.

ILRA is close to the apartment, so once again I had a short commute.  We arrived and parked next to Brain from the Motor Club once again.  He is definitely the 'Early Bird' type of person.

After picking up my number, it was time to change and start warming up.  I rode the opening hill and through the "new" singletrack, out to the road to see how things were laid out.  It was the typical trail except the kept us pinned to the grass for a bit near the long road crossing over the bridge.  I wanted to ride back to see what was happening at the downhill under the railroad bridge, but time was running short.

I got to the starting area and people were already lining up, so I moved in too to get a good spot.  I jumped in the front row next to Lako and Alex.  Soon Osgood showed up and wedged into a spot, then another rider on the outside.  We were 6 riders wide at the start, with 1, maybe 2 good lines.

It seemed we stood around a bit longer than normal at the start.  This gave me time to hand off my extra warm-up bottle,and give John Boy some good natured ribbing about his camelback.  40 some degrees, 2 laps, a generous supply of water was not needed.

Finally it was time to go and we shuffled to the line.  At the start, I paused a half-second and immediately jumped onto Osgood's wheel.  We took off over the hill and at the top I was in 4th wheel.  The lead rider from TSB veered off to the left at one of the forks, and ended up in second behind Lako.  Going into the new singletrack, it was Lako, TSB guy, Osgood and myself.  Soon, Lako began to pull away, and Osgood made a pass before the switchback climb.  At the top of the hill those two had made a small gap.  I was able to get around TSB after the big 'dip' in the trail and begin closing the gap.

I was grouped back with the leaders by the time we reached the rutted downhill to the small bridge and first road crossing.  As I reached the bottom of the hill to the left-hander, I felt something hit my left leg.  It was my bottle ejecting from the cage, and I saw it settle next to the trail.  [Numerous laps on the trail have never cause a bottle to pop out, including a descent during the warm-up.]  Being up front, I decided I did not need a bottle, I would either get my warm-up bottle from my wife on the way through, or worst case, a cup of high quality H2O from the aid station.

So back to us three at the front, Lako was throwing down a good pace, but shortly before we reached the RR track, a Hooligan came around me and jumped onto Lako's wheel, making my 4th again.  The quartet hung together throughout the rest of blue.

Right before making the left onto yellow the leaders from the 40+ group came by, damn those guys are fast.  Through yellow we were doing well, but I was noticing that 1-2 were opening a small gap on Osgood and I.  Before the wide bridge over the river I went around Osgood, and start working to close up the gap again.  I was back on the wheel of the leaders.  Not having any water, I just sat in for the rest of the lap.  Lako was still setting the pace, but we kept his wheel.

As we came around for the lap, I was sitting up trying to locate my wife.  She was there taking pictures, but had no bottle, as 48 minutes ago I assured her that I did not need it.  That is fine, I will just take a water hand-up from the aid station.  Wait.... where is the aid station?  Not near the start line.  Not at the finish.  Not at the top of the hill.  Shit, there wasn't one.  I swallowed a mouthful of spit and hunkered down.

As we came through the rough downhill again, I saw my bottle nestled alongside the trail, mocking me.  I thought about stopping to grab it, but still with the leaders, coming into traffic and crossing onto one of the fastest sections of the course, I skipped it.

Brad continued to lead until the second time we hit the straight along the RR tracks.  The Hooligan took the lead and put in an effort, as we hit 24 MPH on the straight.  I was starting to feel these efforts in my legs and I began thinking what I would do to hold on to third once things started shutting down.

Into yellow the second time, it was still the Hooligan leading, Brad right on his wheel and my yo-yo-ing off the back.  If an incline or effort was needed, I would get unhitched, but work on the flats to close again.  When we reached the trailhead parking lot for the last time, I knew it was going to come down to a sprint at the end.  I was just hoping I would have enough left to be part of it.

It was a bit of cat and mouse for the final miles, but the writing was on the wall and we all knew it.  When we turned onto the road leading to the finish climb, I was expecting a move right away.  Thankfully it didn't happen.  I was 3rd wheel just waiting for the move to happen.

When we hit the bottom of the climb Lako made his move and jumped to the right to pass.  I immediately responded and went to the left.  For a moment we were three wide coming up the hill.  Soon it was Brad and I side by side, and I was digging with all I had left.

In the end, he crosses the line a wheel ahead of me, roughly 29", or 0.1 seconds.  I screamed in frustration, but avoided profanity.  I immediately congratulated Brad in a good race [In my own special way] and kept riding down the trail.  I needed to get back to my bottle ASAP.

Back at the Jeep I continued to drink every liquid that I had brought along with me.  Brain came along, he too was in a sprint to the line.  He won his battle, but he wasn't sure about his placing.

Awards time came, and we had a full podium.  Many familiar faces, most of which I am sure we will see again this season.  I need to end up on the top step, Brad owes me some bunny ears.

And congrats to Mitch who put in a solid effort in the Elite race.

Mud. Sweat. Beers. Redemption

This is the fourth time I have competed in this event. Since 2011 I have come out and raced my singlespeed in the hills of Traverse City.

2011 wasn't my best effort. I finished 5th, about 1o minutes behind the winner.
2012 wasn't much better.  I bunch of riders missed a poorly marked turn, and I finished in 4th, 5 minutes behind the winner.

My brief research told me that the top riders were going to be back this year.  In addition Trevor Smela, local speedy guy was going to be there as well.

Still some snow on the hill!

We arrived in TC the night before,had a good dinner and got some rest.  The morning of the race, the short drive, and VIP Jeep parking made things really convenient.

 My plan was to start at the front, and hang on as long as I could.  I line up in the first row, that way I would not be caught up in any missed clips.  To my right was TrevRev, and a few other speedy folks to my left.

We took off and I got a decent jump.  I was third wheel heading up the hill.  There was some incident to my left, I heard the announcer call out a crash.  I am glad I avoided it.

We entered the woods and I was happy in 3rd letting the other 2 do the work.  We reached the first climb, and we caught on to the previous group of geared riders.  We made up 3 minutes in the first mile.  The two in front lined up, and I went left to ensure I would not get caught in any unexpected dismounts.  I ended up passing the bunch and now I was in the lead.  I kept a decent pace, but didn't push too hard knowing Will Power (aka Heart Attack) Hill was ahead.

The climb was much better than years past, as the added gravel and graded it.  Unfortunately the clear line was packed with geared spinners, and us SSers had to hit the more gravely part.  We chugged up, with our back tired slipping on each pedal stroke.

I was back to second by the time we hit the paved subdivision.  There were four of us now, and a DTE rider went to the front, with Trev, me and Anthony (remember him from Pontiac?) lined up behind.  About halfway through the paved portion Trevor made a jump and the other two latched on.  I did not make the jump, thinking with 20 miles left, I wasn't wanting to burn another match.

The three hit the singletrack ahead of me but still in sight.  Much of the race consisted of getting caught behind geared riders on the singletrack, and passing where clear.  This is incredibly similar to Iceman, but much warmer, and the conga lines aren't as long.

I passed the DTE rider, and was working to close on the other two.  I would catch glimpses of the orange Niner of Trevor, so I would keep pushing.  At one point I was behind 4 riders crossing a sandy powerline section.  The front rider went down in the sand and laid there like dead fish.  The other wo guys were waiting for him to remount, and I hopped off and ran around them all.

At one point a guy along the trail told me the leaders were 1 minute ahead, and 50 yards apart.  I kicked it up another notch.  By Timber Ridge I had closed on pair who had regrouped.  I was within spitting distance of them, but couldn't close.

We hit Joy Ride on our return to the hill and I had closed on Trevor.  I was on his wheel entering the subdivsion again.  Once again he took off and I couldn't hold his wheel.  He was flying!  I bombed back down Will Power, made the correct turn between the padded trees, and muscled up the last climb.

Entering into the hill I didn't see the leaders, but the sandy off-camber held the majority of my attention.  I didn't want to eat a face full of sand right at the finish.  I rounded the last cut-back to the Specialized tire, and I heard the announcement of the sprint for the end.

Anthony on the right, Trevor right behind in the white helmet.

I pedaled on, bombed through the mud pit, and finished a close third.

After the reason, the weather turned around, and I spent 3 hours drinking beer and hanging out getting a sunburn.  It was a good race, and I finally got my podium.  I didn't even mind finishing behind Trevor (who ended up in second, with the same official time as the winner Anthony) because he is a badass workhourse.

Time to head home and see what is next on the agenda.  Stay Metal!

Pontiac. Firebird.

So, the season has arrived, I skipped 2 or three common season openers before arriving at Pontiac.  It felt strange coming into my fist race so late in the season, but a minimal amount of time riding on dirt.  Will skipping these warm-up races have a negative impact, or will I be springtime fresh?

I arrived at Pontiac Lake not quite as early as usual.  It was good to have a shorter commute.  Brain from The Motor Club was already set up, so I poached a seat under the canopy and chatted for a bit.

Soon enough it was time to get changed and start warming up.  I spun around a bit and checked out the new Start/Finish loop around the field.  I was a little tougher mentally, but nice for the folks not racing to see some of the action.

By the time that I finished warming, I saw the cattle being corralled for the start and worked my into the mass of carbon and metal.  I found my group but had to settle for second row.  I lined up next to Gus, while the big guns like Osgood and the KLM Power Duo of Lako and Gonzalez sat in front.  We pushed our way forward awaiting our 10:04 start.

The seconds on the clock flipped to :00 and the surge was on.  Once again the rider directly in front of me missed a clip and fumbled around.  Fuck me, every race it seems I get caught in this.  Strike one.  I work around him as the train formed on the grass and headed to the dirt.  Once onto the singletrack I was last wheel in the group and knew I had to start making up ground.

The troupe consisted of: Anthony, KLM:Power Duo, Osgood, Fedewa, Hemingway, and W9.  (There may have been one other, but close enough).  We stayed together surprisingly well, but soon the rope started to stretch with the 3 leaders pulling away.  I made a pass on 2-mile climb to close on Osgood, but chose a sloppy line and ended up washing out.  Strike 2.  I quickly remounted and began the chase anew.

Before long we were down to a group of just 3 behind the leaders: Gus, Osgood and I chasing down Alex as he was left behind by Lako and Anthony.  The 4 of us congealed and stuck together for a bit, with nobody making a move.  After a short while, the leader from the next wave (Wissink) caught us and I waved him through on the left.  As he began to pass the cluster of riders, it was my intention was to jump on his wheel and follow him through.  Just as I pulled alongside the group, Osgood had the same idea and snatched my line.  The passing window immediately closed, and I was now at the back of a group of 3, with Osgood pulling away.  I missed my chance.  Third strike.  I stayed on the back of 3-pack for a bit longer, looking for a place to make a move and try to chase down Osgood.

Then it happened, we came to the mud hole on mile 8.  All 5 of the riders immediately ahead of me went to left, so I thought “Screw it” and decided that I was going to go straight through the middle and see what happens.  As I came to the mud I saw a log bridge/ladder on the far right side, and heard a commotion to my left.  I hit those logs full tilt and came busting out the other side.  I don’t know what happened on the left, but I was now directly behind Wissink and had a gap on Osgood and the others.  Home fucking run! (OK, I know enough about baseball that it is highly difficult to get a home run after a third strike, so I guess one of the earlier strikes was actually a foul tip.)

I tried my best to stay on Wiss' wheel and increase the gap behind because I knew Ozzy wasn’t going to let me get away easy.  I kept Wissink in sight almost the remainder of the lap.  I didn’t see John, but I thought I heard his name as he came through the finish area.  

Lap 2, the moment of truth (Ok, more than a moment, but less than an hour).  The race was now a Time Trial like years past.  I hit the singletrack solo and trying to maintain my speed.  At the switchback on 2-mile climb I saw the Red/Black/White & Mavic Yellow charging up behind and I put in a dig.  I wasn’t going to get caught, not this time.  I continued to push my pace, and I think I may have passed a couple riders along the way. 

On the straightaway leading to the final switchback climbs of the day, I saw two riders ahead.  One was a wearing blue and white, which I thought could be a KLM jersey.  I closed the gap on those two by the top of the climb.  On the short descent to the 2-track KLM got a bit of a gap and by the time I hit the final flat I was at full steam to make the pass and close it.  On the grass to the finish we were side-by-side and I realized it wasn’t Lako but kept up the effort across the line.

When the dust settled, I finished in 2^nd place, a tie for my best Expert finish ever, and probably my least miserable effort.  I didn’t stay around long after the race, as the rain began and I am a sissy when it comes to the cold.

Terrific outings both fellow Twin Six reps Jorden Wakeley (1^st Elite, duh!) in the Metal kit and Brain (4^th Expert 40-49) and Ken (5^th Beginner 40-49) representing the Motor Club.  It was Kenny’s first MTB race, and the conditions out there were less than ideal for the afternoon groups, but he fought through and got his METAL.  Let’s hope he stays there.

Brain playing it cool

Going. Nowhere. Fast.

I guess this update should have come out before the Pontiac XC race last weekend.  I have been thinking about the content for a bit, but have been too busy/lazy to get it written.  I may as well get it up before race reporting.

2012 was supposed to be my breakout year for racing.  I don’t know if that was self-imposed or perhaps something that others felt as well.  I wouldn’t call it a meteoric rise by any stretch of the imagination.  2010 was my first year racing; I rode singlespeed in the beginner age group with the geared guys.  I trained a bit in the offseason, and 2011 came out in Sport Singlespeed category.  I did well enough, moved up after a couple of races and finished the season winning the CPS Expert/Elite Singlespeed, and finished 4^th in the USAC sport age group on gears on the side.  After some cajoling in that Fall, it was time to man up to Expert.  I used this as an excuse to buy a new bike.

So, I trained hard over the winter of 2011, or at least I thought I did.  I moved to a big name team, and planned on another big race season and kicked it off with some very mediocre performances.  I got taken down at Barry-Roubaix, broke a chain at Yankee and again at Custer, missed a turn at Mud, Sweat and Beers, and overall just came out flat.  I then moved to some road work, and had some fun in the Cat.5 group before catting up after a few races.  Back onto the dirt and I continued my ways of self-destructing and finishing mid pack or worse.

By mid-summer, I was done and not even wanting to ride for fun.  My training went to null.  My racing were just going through the motions.  The only high spot from June on was the Stony XC race.  This was the first race I went in with not caring about finishes, team performances, or any expectations.  The result was my best finish of the season.

Iceman was a bust, and finishing at the back of the Pro group did nothing for my waning desire.  I had 5 months to figure out what it was that I am going to do this year.  You can notice that there is no schedule in the right column, and that is because I don’t know.  Each weekend is a coin flip to see if I am up for a race, or if I am going stay in bed.

This season will be going back to my roots, riding for Twin Six, no expectations, no cares and a Fuck You attitude.  Let’s see how this plays out.

And, the Iceman Go-eth...

Since everybody has been updating their blogs, I figure it would be time that I should do that as well.  Back in November I promised an update on my Iceman ride.  I think it has been sufficiently long that I forgot enough detail that this post can be relatively brief.

It was the Friday before, and on the way up we stopped at a Taco Bell for lunch.  Upon entering I saw Osgood, a scary bearded guy who had to be Lako, and Alex Gonzalez.  I felt better about my dining decision know that the guys who are routinely faster than I am were also sitting down to 4 Doritos Locos Tacos, Supreme, two Mexican pizzas, a Nacho Bell Grande and 164 oz. of Mountain Dew Baja Blast!

After lunch we continued on our way north to Kalkaska.  I had read a lot about the new sections of the course and some re-routing action.  I figured the only way to know what to expect would be a preliminary ride of the course the day before.  I took off from the Kalkaska hospital and hit the trail near the start.  I briefly thought about starting at the school, but was a bit worried about changing in the parking lot.

The new ‘road’ sections were definitely sandy, and deep.  I knew things would be different after 300 racers go through.  I would be taking off in the afternoon; I was a “Pro” after all.  I finished up in about 2:20, damp and cold. I felt Ok for the race.  It was just for fun, right?

Then it was off to GT Lodge to sign in and hit the expo.  I waited in the long line to pick up my packet, and once I made it to the front I was told that the “Pro” riders needed to go over there (*points to the right*) where there were 2 workers and no line.  Doh!  One benefit wasted.  Browsing through the expo, my excitement for mountain biking and cycling in general was waning, so I didn’t see much that interested me.

Time to check into the hotel, sneak my bike into the room and then go get some dinner.  Instead of my traditional pre-Iceman meal, we met some friends at a different dining establishment.  To continue my theme from earlier in the day, it was a wet burrito.  Although the ‘wet’ tasted like spaghetti sauce and kinda ruined the experience for me.

Back to the hotel, it was time for bed.  I awoke the next morning and went down for breakfast.  It was nice not setting an alarm, although the 5, 6, and 7 am racers were plenty loud enough that an alarm would not have been necessary, even if I was wearing ear plugs and put a pillow over my head.  Another issue that morning was a slight toothache that gradually increased in intensity throughout the morning until my moderate discomfort became annoying pain.  I went to the drug store, loaded up on toothache medicine and pain relievers.  It helped a bit, but I wasn’t in to mood to eat any lunch.

Time to race.  I waited in traffic and dropped the wife off at Timber Ridge then continued to Kalkaska. It was super nice just driving up to the starting line and parking in the adjacent lot.  “Pro” benefit #2 I guess.  I got changed, rode around, chatted with Mr. Powers, and get ready for the race.  I wasn’t feeling strong mentally or physically.  Every time I took a cold drink it felt like somebody stabbed me in the face.  Oh  well, it wasn’t like I was gonna win this thing.  There were some call ups for the fast people, whilst I lingered in the middle of the back half.  Then the start, the slow crawl to the line, then tearing off down the street like a bat outta hell.  Riders weaving in and out, cutting people off, sketchy as hell like they are going to win this thing.  I get run off the road and across somebody’s front yard.  Sorry, but I don’t want to touch the floor 42 seconds into the last race of the season.

Chaos continues until we get passed the elementary school and make the right onto the first section of this course that isn’t road.  Flying still, pedaling down the 2-track, a left hander and…oh we’re stopped.  Somebody crashed on the first turn on dirt.  Really folks, we’re “Pros” remember?  I don’t recall much during these middle sections of the course.  I worked as hard as I felt I could, but I wasn’t racing.  I made some passes; I probably got passed (but not much as I was already near the back).  I saw Mitch ahead and tried to reel him in, but was never able to.  I would close and he would pull away.  The last time I saw him was the sandy road.  It was actually ride-able thanks to the earlier traffic.  Made it up the road climb to the cheering masses (who had thinned after the real fast guys came through) and was working until Anita’s hill.  At the base of the wall the Pro women caught me, and zoomed by.  I stood to climb and both of my thighs said “No, we are done for the day, thanks” and I was forced to sit down and spin the rest of the way.

Around mile 8, Ain't dead yet!

 

The rest of the way was just getting to the finish.  Climbing up Woodchip Hill some youngster acutely stated “It doesn’t look like he is going very fast!?!” which was a very keen observation and something I was definitely aware of.  I think he was just in (the opposite of) awe when comparing me to the pros that came through 40 minutes before I did.

Race finished.  Time 2:00:40.  No sub-2 hr. tee-shirt. Oh well.  I was an experience.  I slogged back to camp, showered (Plenty of hot water available since everybody else finished hours earlier, Bonus #3), and ate some food.  It is hard to say now if I was disappointed with my effort.  I hadn’t experienced cramps like that before.  All I could rely on was maybe next year.

And I got to look forward to a root canal to fix that toothache….

What I Did (or Didn’t Do) on My Summer Vacation

Well, it is pretty obvious that I haven’t been updating my blog much this summer.  I guess ‘at all’ would be a better description.  I was practically begged by all of my fan (not a typo) to do an update, several times.

In light of the Iceman race last weekend, and the anticipated end of year race report, I figured I would throw together a brief montage of the events leading up to that day.

June:
Way back in June I finished up the Tour de Mount Pleasant with a couple of acceptable finishes, Cat.5 at least.  Afterwards I applied for my Cat.4 upgrade and was approved.  Some stated I should have remained in 5, other said I should have applied sooner.  Either way it wouldn’t really matter.

So to backtrack just a bit, in early June I accepted a new job in Ann Arbor and was biding my time at my current position.  The writing was on the wall there, I had not been happy for some time, began looking for a new position the previous summer.  So my days were filled with apathy, and my “Give a shit” was reaching record lows.

On June 23 was the Festival of the Sun Criterium.  This would be my first (and currently only) Cat.4 road race.  I went in unprepared, beginning my downward slide in training.  I rode a meek race, just hanging around the back of the pack, not sure I belonged and not feeling like I could hang.  Finished 17 of 25.

The next day I got on a plane bound for Florida.  A week off just basking in the sun, except Tropical Storm Debbie was in town, so it was pretty much a week spent inside.

July:
The first week of July was my last week at my old job.  Time was spent going through files, clearing off desks, taking long lunches, and of course, a day off in the middle.  I started my new job on the 9^th.  I was now spending 10+ hours a week commuting to and from work.  Basically all the hours I was spending on the bike I was now spending in the car.

Also we put our house up for sale, so the weekends were full of cleaning, decluttering, garage sales, and some home shopping (That is looking for new homes, not buying ugly sweaters off the TV).  In an effort to maximize savings I cleared off my racing schedule.  I kept the remaining USAC races as I had already paid, but many CPS and other races hit the chopping block.  Some of my favorite end of season (is this still mid-season) races were removed.  This made my schedule 17 races instead of the ~25 or so it would have been.

The 7^th was the Stony Marathon. In proper form it was a hot one.  I showed up flat.  Took off fast and crawled across the line.  I couldn’t hang with Aryn as he caught and dropped me on lap 3.  I was grateful just to finish.

The 28^th was the Tree Farm Relay.  I tried to put in some bike time leading up to this.  Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t want to let down the team.  Plus I really didn’t want to be the slowest guy out there.  We had a decent showing, but some unavoidable issues left us off the podium.

I was able to return to my apathetic ways of non-training.

August:
In the midst of selling, then not selling, then selling our house, and buying, then not buying, then trying to buy, then buying, then not buying a house, August was a busy time. 

We hit the road to Brighton on the 4^th.  The course there is decent, the Murray Lake Loop.  We hung yet again with the motor club.  Again this was not my day.  I started fast, and cracked just as fast.  Coming out of the woods on my first lap, I saw Osgood and Lako headed back in.  It was going to be a long day.  I think Pongo caught me on lap 2 and drifted away.  I hung back, jaggedly pedaling squares and wondering how much I could sell my bike for.  I think on the final lap (maybe #3) I regained sight of Pongo in the start/finish area, and tried to put in a last effort to close the gap.  Unfortunately, my lack of training meant that as my legs were pumping harder, by reflexes suffered.  I went down in a corner and basically gave up after that, eventually limping across the line.

To wrap up the season, it was back to Stony one last time.  I would have to say this could be the only place considered my home course, as this would be my third trip out, including one 12 hour race.  I went in not caring how I did.  What did it matter anymore?  The plan was just to try to hang on with Aryn as long as I could.  No rabbit starts!  As I lined up on his wheel, the Tailwind folks did a call-up.  I think I was currently 4^th in the series (due to a good showing at the stage race).  SO I moved to the front, with no intention of staying there.  We took off and stretched out early.  The first climb I usually work hard to stay in the lead.  This year I sat on Simon’s wheel and let people blow by.  I moved around Simon sometime on the first lap, and just kept riding along.  I would catch a glimpse of Aryn on occasion, and it would be enough to keep me working to stay ahead, but not enough to force things.  Second lap (of 4 I believe) was pretty uneventful.  I was still riding, passing some people, getting passed.  Literally “just riding along” that day.  I was actually feeling decent and glad to be on a bike.  On lap three I started to see some yellow shoes ahead of me.  Was I reeling in Osgood?  He must be having an off day, it happens.  I caught up to him and I don’t recall how long I sat on his wheel.  I know there was a climb at the end, and I made an effort to get by and tried to gap him.  I may have gotten a bit of distance, but he never let me go.  It was a group of 4, slightly stung out; me, Osgood, and 2 other racers from 40+.  I came through the pit area the last time and saw Aryn handing out bottles, a mechanical brought him down.

I really wanted to stay ahead of Johnny, and was kept checking to see if he was still back there.  He was.  JUST GIVE UP DAMMIT!  I “allowed” the 40+ guys to get in front of my, and worked to stay with them.  It worked well until the 2 track right before the finish.  At the right hander going towards the parking lot I saw a KLM jersey ahead, it was Lako.  One of the 40+ guys yelled “Look out Brad, here he comes.”  I hadn’t anticipated closing that gap, but the guy yelling pissed me off and I made my move.  I threw down all I had to catch, and then pass Brad.  I had figured he would be right behind me through the finish and pushed across the line.  I barely made it over to a picnic table to collapse upon, my heart pounding, my lungs burning.  Probably the most intense effort of the year.  I had no idea where I finished, but I beat Lako and Osgood, and that would be fantastic on any day.  They were already joking around and I was still breathing like a hyperventilating asthmatic breathing through a snorkel.  In the end I somehow managed a 2^nd place finish.  My best MTB finish of the year.  Probably due to the other guys winding down their seasons.

September:
Nothing much here, a couple of trips to poto after work is all.

At the end of the month was the Burchfield TT.  This would be my actual home course.  I lived about 7 miles away.  I helped layout the initial course the previous year, but did more volunteering than racing then.  Because I knew I was moving to Howell the next weekend, I wanted to do this race.

The Motor Club made the trip out, and I raced as an honorary member.  We left the gates as numbers 3 through 5; I was bringing up the rear.  Since I prerode the course that morning to fix markers, I knew what to expect.  Stage 1: Tight and Twisty, this will favor Diesel.  Stage 2: Flat and open, m only shot.  Stage 3: Flow, Aryn will make a move.  I just tried to manage my losses through the first section.  Twisty and rooty is not my forte.  Next I put it all down through the rough fields, trying to close on Aryn.  I caught him before the bridge and was working hard to stay ahead.  So hard I began a bit of dry-heaving.  I never puked from a bike, but this was certainly close.  Still trying to push the pace (and being pushed) I slid out in one section and my bike blocked the trail, effectively stopping both Aryn and myself.  He got by me as I remounted, and I spent the rest of the course working to catch back up.  We came ripping across the line together.  Before results were posted, I was back out on course riding sweep for the MiSCA kids, but it ended being a Motor sweep of the podium.  Diesel got first, me second and that other guy third.  I was just second from getting the fasted time trophy, and if I didn’t wreck (on my home field) I would have.

October:
Some more Poto.  No official training.

We made it to our luxurious apartment in Howell.  Barely room to store the bikes, let alone ride.  Season essentially over.  Motivation practically nil.

I sold my Peak to Peak entry because I didn’t want to spend the money on the only available condo at Crystal.  I guess I lucked out as conditions seemed pretty awful.

November:
And that takes us to November, Iceman, turkey, and perhaps a new start for 2013…