The Tunnel and the Wall of Grass: Mad Anthony CX 2009

Two weeks after my first attempt at racing, I set out for Detroit's historic Fort Wayne to give it another go. I wasn't going to be able to make Kisscross this time around, and the unique setting of Mad Anthony CX made it hard to pass up - and the perfect race for the family.

The day's events started with a 9am 'cross clinic, but that would leave only 30 minutes between the end of the clinic and the beginning of the C race, so I decided that time would be better spent getting warmed up and familiar with the course before the race started.

I started the day with a big bowl of oatmeal, along with coffee and water, hoping an early breakfast would help give me a bit of energy on the course.

I'd packed my duffel bag the night before, so after getting my bike loaded on the car my wife and I got the kids bundled up for a cold day of spectating and exploring and headed southeast.

We left a little after 8 o'clock, which should have put us at the fort by about 9:30, giving me about an hour to register and ride a few laps before the 10:30 start time.

Unfortunately, I was reminded that things don't always work out as planned when at about 45 minutes into our trip, we discovered that the only direct expressway leading to our destination was closed. Completely closed. This sent us on a meandering detour along a series of local roads that themselves constricted traffic due to construction.

So by the time we finally reached the fort, it was going on 10 o'clock. Okay, no problem, registration will take only a couple of minutes, and I should still have time for a lap or two around the course. Except for the fact that the parking lot was about a 5 minute walk from the site of the race. And I didn't bring enough cash for registration, and had to return to the car for a check. And there was a line at registration.

After I hastily pinned on my number (upside down - oops) and downed a gel, I saw that there were just 8 minutes left before the start, and the Cs had already begun to line up. So, with absolutely no knowledge of the course I headed for the starting area. Not only was I not warmed up, but I was cold. I jogged lightly in place as I strained to hear the instructions over the conversations of the riders around me, but was unable to make out any of it. Oh well, it's probably the usual stuff.

Unfortunately, when you've only done one other race, and you also missed the instructions at that race, there is no usual stuff. But I wouldn't know what I'd missed until later.

A few more cold seconds, or minutes, or hours, and the gun was fired - in this case a 150 year old muzzle loader shot by a man in a Civil War-era uniform.

We were off, albeit slowly, headed for what appeared to be a grass-covered wall. Since I hadn't previewed the course, I wasn't sure if I should ride it or run it. The field was still tightly packed, so I opted to run it - really more of a fast walk, as people ahead and around me collided, fell, or dismounted mid-climb. Here I remembered what I had learned at the previous race: that my shoes needed to be tighter or they would slide off during the run-ups. I managed to keep them on, but this really slowed me down, and I probably lost a few seconds on each of the run-ups on every lap. I've since picked up some new mountain bike shoes with velcro straps that will be more secure. Oddly, they smell like band-aids.

So the first lap was pretty good - I felt strong, but cold and slow, and since I hadn't gotten familiar with the course beforehand, I was sort of treating it like a preview lap. I felt a few riders coming up on me, but didn't feel like trying to hold them off.

Chaos on the Wall of Grass

After the first lap, I started to pick up a bit, passed a few riders, and started to feel a bit stronger, except for on the long grassy section, where I struggled to keep my breathing under control. I need to get better at riding on thick grass. That stuff kills me.

Things were pretty much the same through the end of the third lap, and as I passed the finish area, I heard shouts of "2 to go." I decided to slowly up my pace, but to hold back a full effort until the last lap. Most of the lap went well and I even managed to re-pass one rider who had passed me during the last lap.

But as I rounded a corner toward a gravelly climb, I smacked my back wheel on a square curb at the bottom of the hill, an obstacle I'd managed to bunny hop without much effort on previous laps. The sound I heard seemed much too loud for a tire, and I wondered if I'd popped the tire, or had been already riding on a flat. I climbed okay and decided not to worry about it, but at the top of the hill, just before a short, steep descent, I dropped my chain. I should of just jumped off and fixed it, but instead I tried messing around with the front derailleur to get it back on the ring, as riders started to pass me. There wasn't enough time before the descent, so I ended up jumping off anyway, and getting the chain back on while a few more riders went by. All told, I must have lost at least 20 seconds, and at least 6 or 7 places.

Okay fine, these things happen. I headed for the barriers that sat at the bottom of a short, steep, muddy run-up, and pedaled to the start/finish.

As I rolled through the finish I heard 'alright, a cool down lap!' and it occurred to me what had happened, and what important bit of information I missed at the starting lineup. If you get lapped, you're out. So at least one of the riders that passed me when I was dealing with the dropped chain must have lapped me, which meant I was out. Being a total newbie, this was a shocking development. So, it turned out that my strongest lap, having finally warmed up, was completely pointless.

Oh well, I learned something new, and the course itself provided many novelties for me, things I can work into my training - how to take tight 180 turns without slowing down too much, or falling; how to handle the bike on short, steep descents without squeezing the brakes for dear life and losing all of the momentum I could gain from the hill; how to approach steep hills so that I can ride them instead of running them, saving a bit of energy and perhaps a bit of speed.

So, it wasn't a great race for me, but it wasn't terrible. I felt better than the previous race, despite sacrificing both a preview and a decent warm-up, and I never completely fell apart like I did at my first race. If I could get it all together, I might be able to do okay at this.

Sadly, I don't know how I placed as the posted results for the C-class don't include the the last 19 of 44 starters. I emailed the race organizer in the days following the race and he confirmed that the posted results were only partial, and he'd have the full results worked out and posted that evening. Unfortunately this hasn't happened yet. I'm sure there's no intentional slight of the racers at the back of the field, but as a new racer, I find it pretty frustrating. Knowing how I placed helps me to get a better picture of what happened during the race, and to know how I am progressing from race to race. It would also be nice to know whether or not I was DFL. Unfortunately until the full results are released, I have no way of knowing where if I was 26th, 44th, or somewhere in between. When, or if, the results are available, I'll update this post with my place.

More broadly, though, I know that I've got a lot of work to do before I'm approaching the top ten, or even the top twenty. It probably won't happen this year. And that's okay. My goal this season was to learn, and I'm doing a lot of learning.

The Tunnel

The race itself was a blast. The course was a great mixture of very fast hardpack and gravel, ridiculous climbs and run-ups, grueling grassy sections, a hill paved with 150-year old cobblestones, and even a fast, 90 degree turn through a pitch-dark tunnel. It would have been nice to see more racers and spectators, as it was a great venue for a race. The B and A races were great fun to watch, even as the temperature dropped and the sun disappeared. My kids loved exploring the grounds and taking a tour of the limestone barracks.

The organizers plan to run it again next year, and I plan to be there.

In the meantime, I'm a week off from race #3, which will bring me back to the laid-back, celebratory atmosphere of Kisscross, and I'm hoping to be better prepared, arriving on time to get a proper preview and warm-up so that I can give this race everything I've got.

But I think I said that last time.

Be sure to check out Chicky's beautiful gallery of photos of the event and its amazing location, as well as MattMTB1's excellent video montage.

Update: Rules are confusing. I've gotten word that the final results don't include the bottom 19 riders from the C class, who were lapped by the leader, and were not placed. I admit that this is confusing to me, as the USAC rules state the following:

5G1. Any rider lapped before the last lap shall leave the race (unless stated differently prior to the race); if the lapping takes place after the midpoint of the race the rider shall be given a place. Lapped riders who are permitted to remain in the race will all finish on the same lap as the leader and will be placed according to the number of laps they are down and then their position at the finish.

I must be misunderstanding this rule, because if I was lapped during the 4th lap, it would seem to me that I would be given a place.

Obviously I did poorly, and I realize that it really doesn't matter if I was last, 2nd from last, 10th from last. But it seems to me that according to the rules, and to the way the race took place, I should be able to look at the results, and see my name. But I guess that's not the way it is.

But it doesn't matter. I had fun, I learned a lot, and this Sunday I'll do it again. But this time I'll be back at Kisscross, where things are simpler - you do your laps, and then you see how you finished. Sure, maybe this isn't the way "real" racing is done, but for a beginner like me, it's really the best place to race, learn, track my progress, and have fun. And that's why I'm doing this, right?