Cruising at Cohutta

Yes, this is really late, but I was on vacation until yesterday. I had access to the intraweb the whole time, but computers remind me of work so much that by last weekend, I wouldn’t even open my laptop to read my nonwork email in case I accidentally saw a Framemaker or RoboHelp icon.

Also, the race? A really expensive group ride (stole that from Lindsay). I’m not known for my blazing speed, but I think I set a personal worst for going slow. I didn’t blow up, have a mechanical, bonk or crash (well, just the once, but it didn’t do any damage). I was just slow – 11:32 and way way back in the women’s field.

I think maybe I was still asleep for most of it. The day before the race, I got up at 3:45 to catch a 4:30 cab for a 6:00 flight and met Tom in Knoxville at 10:30. I didn’t sleep well because I was so worried about forgetting something important and/or not getting up in time. I actually made a checklist for myself that included things like “check the burners” and “lock the door” and set two alarms. By the time we got to Ducktown, socialized, registered, socialized, filled our drop bags, socialized, drove to the B and B, unpacked the car, ate dinner, and socialized, it was time for bed.

When we woke up, it was pouring. When we got to the venue, it was only showering but I had a tremendous lack of enthusiam. Normally, I’m at least a little wired and excited at the start of the race, but this time I was just like “whatever, get it over with.”

The race started up a a paved road for a few miles, then went right into a bunch of sweet singletrack – like Kingdom Trails, but with less climbing. It was slick, but not gooey. I passed a couple of people right off, then rode rode pretty much by myself for a while. Eventually a couple of 100 mile riders caught me, then the 35-mile leaders caught us, then we all caught some more of the 100-milers. From there until checkpoint 1, it was an elbow-to-elbow XC race. After CP1, we were on dirt roads. Really wet dirt roads. After the chaos of the singletrack, I was looking forward to chilling out on the gravel roads, but I was kind of hating them. It was still raining and I was constantly getting sprayed by water. I had a big glob of mud in my left eye and my rear derailleur only worked some of the time. There comes a point in every 100 miler I’ve done where I start to hate it, but that usually happens closer to mile 80 than mile 18.

But then it got better. I started chatting with woman from Charlotte, then a bunch of people from Knoxville. Next thing I knew, I had chatted with my way to CP 2 and it had stopped raining. When I got there, I found out that in my zombie state the day before I had not only put my drop bags in the wrong bins, but also put my both my Heed packets in the same bag. So, no Heed for me, but I did have the Starbucks Doubleshot I had meant for CP4. Caffeine… I love you. CP 2 was the start of a long, long climb, and the more I climbed the better I felt. CP 3 was in the middle of the climb and I was still full and had plenty of water, so I just rode on past. I wasn’t going fast, but I was going steady and I was not hating the race anymore.

After the long climb there was some rollingness on gravel roads then a descent down to CP4 at mile 65ish. 35 miles seemed like a long way and the gravel road thing was getting old, but I could see the singletrack at the end of the tunnel. CP 5 was at 80 miles and was basically one big climb, then one long descent onto singletrack at mile 88 and not a moment too soon. I was already 30 miles over my longest ride of the year and I was tired and out of gas. This last section was a lot more boney than the first section – not so much technical, but lots of small rocks and high-frequency bumps. I rattled both hands off the bars for a second on the first long downhill before I remembered I was running a rigid fork. It was fun stuff though. I had the same thoughts running through my head the whole time: “these trails are awesome!” “I am so f’ing tired” “I want a cheeseburger more than anything in the world.” Finally, the singletrack dumped out onto a paved road and it was one flat, paved mile to the end.

I’m not at all thrilled with my time, but it was a 100 miler in April and I finished. It was a training race! Yeah, that’s it. Except for some hating early on, I had a good time – met lots of new people on the course and got to spend some quality time with our enduro friends. (And if you ever run into Zeke and he tells you the story about me at Mohican, what I meant was “it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”)

We also had a lot of fun at the Company House B and B where we stayed the night before and after the race. Everyone at the inn (6 rooms) was there for the race, so we all had something to talk about.The innkeepers got up early and had breakfast ready for us at 4:45 Saturday am. Sunday morning we were all hanging around in the living room telling war stories and comparing pain. Good times!

I would like to take a moment here to mourn the loss of one of my two precious pairs of 2007 Pearl Izumi Vertex Microsensor shorts (2008 version, not the same!) and my beloved Zoot vest (it was black and had pockets!). After the race, we put our wet stinky clothes in a mesh bag, which managed to stink up the car by the time we drove the 3 miles to the inn. We decided to put the bag on the roof of the car so it wouldn’t stink up the car (any more). You can guess what’s coming here, right? I got up before the coffee was ready sunday morning and drove to the gas station to get some. It was dark. I did not see the bag or remember it was there. We figured out it was missing when we finished packing up the car, and drove the 1 mile route to the gas station, but it was gone. I feel sorry for the person who picked it up.