Around noon on Saturday I logged on to the PC in my fit "studio" at the shop to check out the changes we recently made to our Facebook Fan Page. It was then that I saw the message from Keevin, a fellow desert-dwelling mountain biker, that read simply "Do you want to go to Mellow Johnny's?". I immediately doubted the feasibility of the idea, as I've been spending the last few months since the end of 'cross just doing lots of long, steady, base miles with my only goal of the season being the 24-hour race. I was in NO shape for cross-country, especially considering the caliber of riders I knew I'd be facing. Clearly I had to go! I arranged to leave work early and sped home to collect my gear for the race. We left Amarillo at about 4 o'clock for the eight-hour drive to Dripping Springs.
I woke at the hotel the next morning up feeling really good, had a decent sized breakfast, and drank what I thought was plenty of water as we drove out to the course. The temperature was supposed to be in the high 80s and the wind was already picking up quite a lot of dust, but I was never worried. My plan was just to finish. We were still a few hours from the start of the race but I decided to kit up (skin suit because why not?) and begin riding around. I was still feeling really good as I continued to eat and drink. I got in a really good warm up and talked to dozens of mountain bikers I haven't seen in months, especially Jeremiah and Peter from Aggieland Cycling. I toed the line with Nathan Winkelman and a host of other really fast guys, but I wasn't really nervous because I just wanted to get out, get some miles in, and finish strong. Once again, little did I know...
The whistle blew and we were off. My mantra over the years has become "hole shot, damage control", and at 200+ pounds, I usually don't have trouble finding a couple dozen watts to make this happen. This day, though, I couldn't find them. I knew from the get-go that I was in trouble. The field blew through the opening bend and over to the single track kicking up a huge cloud of dust. Breathing was next to impossible. I entered the single track in about 15th position. Wink and the fastest guys were gone immediately, and I quickly lost contact with the next small group. Over the course of the next five or six miles I consumed all of my water and my legs and feet began cramping (I left Amarillo in such a hurry that I forgot to put my green Specialized BG footbeds and varus wedges in my new shoes). I basically limped through the last mile or so of the first lap into the feed zone. Jeremiah had two fresh bottles waiting for me, and I drained a neutral bottle as well. I immediately felt a lot better, and considered slogging through a second lap. Ultimately, though, I knew I couldn't come back from the hydration/fitness deficit and would most likely not be able to complete a third lap so I decided to quite while I was ahead... or still alive, anyway.
My spirits were lifted a bit to realize that MANY other racers met the same fate as I did out on the trails. Only seven of the eighteen open single speeders finished, with attrition in the other fields almost just as bad. Pete had a better day, though, with a 6th place finish in a loaded Cat1 field.
We ended the trip with a jump into a hotel swimming pool, traditional post-race fare at Mamasitas in Fredericksburg, and the eight hour return trip to Amarillo. 16 hours of our 32 hour excursion were spent in the car. Embrace the suck.
Here's a picture from Saturday's UCI race that accurately depicts the conditions of the race.
In other news, preparation continues toward my bid to Victory (that's right, capital V) in 24 Hours in Palo Duro Canyon, now a 4-man affair. I made a few phone calls and explained the situation to my boss who did the same. I can't say who just yet, but some very big names are on the short list to join me in June. Stay tuned.
That's all for now.
-Ian
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