Supercross 2016.
This weekend did not go how I dreamt it. Form is fleeting but circumstances outside of the tapes made this particular weekend especially difficult. Saturday was an intensely challenging course. My elevation graph scouting didn't exactly adequately represent the delta Y. I was excited when I learned of the elevation, however was instantly zapped when I showed up and every climb was on soft watt sucking earth.
The race went fine enough. My 4th row start didn't materialize into much. I started on the right side. The start chute was actually contained by curb and eventually fed into the orange metal fencing I've become so accustomed to. I was having difficulty reading where the fence started through the field and missed a really good opportunity to move up when I wimped out thinking I might ride into fence. The race hurt worse then I remember it normally hurting. Power was significantly better than last week. I finished 31/53.
Sunday.
Sunday was a worse day for me leading in. I sat in my room listening to the freezing rain fall on the leaves. I should really take the AC unit out of my window. Between Clio and I we only had 1 set of mud tires for the weekend. I remembered my disk wheel set and vaguely remembered that the front was still okay. Thankfully it held air when I pumped it. I pulled the rotor off, not unlike I was about to put it in the Peugeot, gave it a quick true, swapped my carbon pads out and had myself a usable mud tire. Clio and I planned to do a wheel swap before my race, it would only be the rear and the rims/cassette combo was identical. Rather unfortunately I watched Britt Lee cross the line midpack with a clock time of 55 minutes and change as I heard "last call elite men to staging."
Moments before my name was called Clio rolled in on her pit bike, mud tires were at the top of the hill, I'd have to grab her bike mid-race.
The sprint was forgettable from my 6th row start but once we hit the first off camber I read some wheels well and made 2 really nice moves which moved me up, got me to my preferred line at the top
and set me up for the first uphill corner. My XM rear didn't have enough traction and I ran once I spun out.
So much running for the next few minutes.
As I take stock of the riders around me I see the whole Hudson squad, Jules G (who won his first UCI point Saturday) and a few other heavy hitters. Damn, I'm in a good spot.
The whole time on my bike I'm
nailing lines. I feel like I'm finding the fastest smoothest spots and gliding through things effortlessly. I'm nailing ruts, shredding corners and having a fucking blast. The run ups hurt especially bad and I choose running lines with gradual grades which I notice helps me close ground. Even worse are the muddy flats.
Everywhere the course levels out on peanut butter mud I struggle. The XM tire spins ferociously as I pedal as I move nowhere. I distract the physical pain with mental processing as I think about smooth pedal strokes. On the flats this helps, but the slight uphills are still impossible.
I pass the pit and Clio has here bike hosed off, ~next half lap~
I come through the pit looking for Clio or the bike. I didn't expect here to stick around but I couldn't find the bike. I'm passed by a group of 3 or 4 who were chasing me.
Next half lap I spotted the bike, then the following half lap I pitted. As I ran and mounted my first pedal stroke sucked the chain in a way rivaling the inversion and suck coming down Black Mounting while pre-riding for Pisgah. It's dropped, sucked and fully wrapped.
Two people rush to my help and grab my bike. I squat to the ground and my right hamstring goes into full charlie horse. I shoot the boot, RIP my chain free, find a ring, run, mount and get back into it. The whole ordeal seemed to last an eternity. Evan Murphy and
@keithgarrison pass and gap in the process.
Wow. I can feel the rear tread accelerating me forward. Triple the traction! Still hard, but I'm moving forward noticeably faster. The run ups are getting harder. I catch some tape on my rear stay before the big run up and carry it for a good 30-40 yards. I unclip and kick it off, then keep going. Evan and Keith nail that section and open up some extra gap.
I come through and see 4 to go. I get ready to rip the woods as I'm whistled off course.
Wait, what? How? I.. Fuck.
Minutes later Curtis White comes through. Immediate feelings have me feeling like I was screwed out of at least 1 lap but looking back at the lap times its pretty probable he would have passed my that lap. He was tuning times 2-3 minutes faster per lap.
How???
Beast mode.
I feel mostly cheated because I was really enjoying the course and focusing on slop CX. You don't get to race that shit every day, let alone even ride it.
Saturday night Clio and I joined the JAM crew for diner at Pupusa Magica. Seriously, this place was off the charts. Just look at the storefront.
Sunday I only rode 1 lap before the race. This is what 13 casual minutes on the course "inspecting" looks like. Dat major tom coming through!
An older gentleman approached me while pinning my shoulder numbers. I was in a total daze and I didn't actually get a good look at him. I don't think I knew who he was and I'm certain I couldn't pick him out of a line up, but he delivered me this paper. I shake every time I read it.