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Home  Bathroom Reading / News Adam Craig Journal C. Decker, On the Home Front
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C. Decker, On the Home Front |
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Written by Carl Decker
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Wednesday, 11 May 2005 |
 Springtime in Oregon means crappy weather and sweet local mountainbike racing. Now that Oregon is chock-full of talent (Barry Wicks, Ryan Trebon, and Bend newbies Adam Craig and Chris Sheppard come to mind) the racing's even funnerer than before. So that's what I've been up to the last month or so....
Mudslinger :
The first local battle would be fought at the venerable spring classic, the Mudslinger. The playing field would be leveled (or is that steepened?) by a gentlemen's agreement between Wixx, Adam Craig, and I to bring bikes without shifters. I opted to not mess with the SS Minnow's gearing, and upon arriving in Blodgett, counted 36 and 17 teeth. Should be just fine... .
So i ended up running/humping the living daylights out of the Minnow for most of the race. Wixx, AC, and I were alone at the front, save for the ever crafty Erik Tonkin, who wasn't in on the gearless handshake earlier in the week. I would spend the day yo-yoing off the back of this group, running/humping/cursing and then bridging the small gaps on the descents where everybody was coasting and talking about baseball or something (I wasn't up there).
Spring Thaw :
The thaw is another Oregon classic and this year again made for a memorable race. With Adam out of town (racing some unimportant World Cup thingy) Ryan Trebon was called upon to take his place in the singlespeed trifecta. This time it would be Two Kona kids and only one Giant guy.
After a few minutes of sleep in Mike Desalvo's backyard, the night before, I felt ready for anything (as long as it was a nap or some coffee). In the starting grid I noticed the strong and elusive Shaun Doyle stradling a cross bike, no doubt hoping to make the most of the nine miles of flat gravel across the top of the course. If we were to hold him off, we'd need to beat him on the initial climb and final descent, cuz he wouldn't be following he 17mph singlespeed limit on the long traverse.
The initial climb at the thaw goes forever. Wixx, Treefarm, and I let out gasps of "jeezus", "aw, c'mon" and "please let this be the last false summit" for the last half of the pitch, which seemed to get steeper and steeper. Once on the flats, Ryan and I were taking the pulls at the front, as Wixxy had an extra tooth on the back, so could barely sit in (@17mph). Five miles later Doyle joined the fray, and was greeted by Treefarm with a hearty "f**kin great, now what?" Doyle dropped us, that's what. I stayed on his wheel an extra couple of minutes, which turned out to be the winning move, as Doyle flatted later on the singletrack, and the Kona Kids just couldn't quite close the gap on the final rough and fast "hit road" descent. By the time they finished I was relaxing in the grass in beautiful Lithia Park. I had to get relaxing quick though, cuz they were only 15 seconds back!
Cascade Chainbreaker :
The breaker has never lived up to it's (shortened) name. It's always been a pretty fast, fun, medium length event. Wake up in my own bed 1:15 before the gun, eat some cereal, and then go ride some fast westside singletrack. This year it earned the "breaker" moniker. At least for me. Raceday morning had me looking out my bedroom window at a driving rain and wishing that maybe I hadn't saved the 5 bucks by pre-registering yesterday. Upon arriving at the venue a cool 16 minutes before the start, I made the decision to don a windbreaker and bring some extra gloves and food and a hat. Paul Thomasberg would have been proud (though I didn't bring a space blanket or a weapon, as he always does). I figured I'd "Be prepared". The Boyscout Motto.
Turns out I didn't really need any of that stuff. The rain eased up and I was soon wearing a jersey filled to bursting with accessories. What I shoulda brought was an extra pair of legs if I was gonna win the Breaker this year. After a five minute starter lap (with a bottle of booze as a prime) I would not see the leader of the race again. I would spend the next eternity or so in the middle ring, even on slight downhills. I couldn't help but repeatedly look at my rear tire to see if it was flat. That's the kind of power I was puting out. Serious watts man. Dozens of 'em.
To add insult to injury, the course was lengthened this year by oh, 50% or so. So I was able to enjoy the pleasures of slow-motion riding (as hard as I could) at a heartrate of 152 for much longer than any other year. Thankyou Jeebus! Alas, I should stop my whining; I ended up 2nd to Brig, who's riding stronger and stronger this year. Rode the descents pretty well at times and didn't hit my head in the tunnel (ouch). What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? So someday I'll be strong like bull because of this. Plus I won a gift certificate to the brewery. Burgers and beer will usually fix what's broken.
Now it's off to Arkansas for some NRC road racing with Broadmark, then Mt Hood Classic, and then hopefully stellar fitness as the barrage of NORBA and World Cups starts in June. I think I'll take a little nap and rest up...
Later, Deckerator |
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