I joined Team WELDNRB this past Sunday for my first WVMBA sanctioned race. Buckle in for a noob’s take on competitive mountain biking.
Starting Line: I’m nervous. I’m confused. But I’ve got a plan. Intimidated by the cluster of bikes on the starting line I decide to hang in the back. Once the race is underway riders will be dropping like flies as tubes pop, crashes occur, cramps set in and determination waivers. When they do…I’ll pass rider after rider as they deal with misfortune. (At this point the experienced racers/readers just laughed out a beer nasal enema)
Mile Marker .0025: There seems to be a fatal issue with my plan. How the heck are these guys moving so freaking fast? A new plan takes form. I think I’d better pass somebody.
Mile Marker .0026: Hah! I can pass these fools on the inside of this turn. Success! 3 riders passed.
Mile Marker .0027: Hey, I just passed you…you can’t pass me back. Dang it.
We burst into the woods onto a near single track carved precariously into the edge of a steep hill. Things are moving really fast and somebody seems to have completely changed the way my gears work. Strange.
Mile Marker 3(?): I had no idea I could fall off my bike so much. Passed, passed, passed, each one as painfully as a kidney stone ( So I’ve heard).
Lap 1, Mile Marker Somewhere: At this point a swear I got passed by a man with no legs and a toddler peddling a red plastic car with a yellow roof. It occurred to me that this was The Big Lobowski and I was Donny. Remember this?
Walter Sobchak: Were you listening to The Dude’s story, Donny?
Donny: What?
Walter Sobchak: Were you listening to The Dude’s story?
Donny: I was bowling.
Walter Sobchak: So you have no frame of reference here, Donny. You’re like a child who wanders into the middle of a movie and wants to know…
The thing is, I’d already been lapped by said child. It was right about then that I finally developed a real plan. Have fun, finish the race . Consequently it was also right about then that I started having fun. I also began to notice that mountain bikers are a great bunch of folks. Almost everyone that passed had time to drop some encouraging words. Even the kid ( who couldn’t have been older then 14 who burned by me on a hill said "Good job, Keep going". Now that is pretty cool)
Incidently, if you ever are in a race and instead of seeing this in front of you
You see this:
You better start enjoying the scenery, ’cause you won’t be winning a camelbak. ( I learned this somewhere around the "razorback" section of the course)
In the end I rode almost 3 miles farther than I had to date, finished dead last in Men’s Sport and had one hell of a time. Oh, and I finished the race, then nearly died in the back of my truck.
I can’t wait for the next race.
