MSC #2 Results on the way

I'd like to tell you how I did this weekend....but I don't know. The results of the cross country race (and pretty much every race) are still in contention. Not a big deal to me, since I know I wasn't podium. But in the contention period that follows the race, many a racer was very upset.
But results or no, I had a great time on the course. The long and brutal climb led to the long and brutal descent. I led out of the start (ha!), then got passed by a fair number of women as the climb progressed. Long climbs have historically been my weakness, though I've been getting better. But if climbs are my weakness, descending is one of my strengths. I passed six women between the top and the bottom. Man was that satisfying.
Unfortunately I didn't have the same performance on the second (and final) lap. In a freak incident, I managed to hock a giant loogie (gross but necessary when racing) directly on my handlebar. My grip was rotating all over the place, and right about when I figured this out, I ate it HARD. I crashed in the big ring, slamming down in some open singletrack. At least it wasn't the trees.
Thankfully, I only garnered some cuts and bruises as well as a horrendous goose egg on my shin. I hopped back on the bike but my rotating grip had me pretty well put off. I couldn't hold on to my bars, let alone concentrate on riding well. I just went for survival: Make it down the hill without putting myself out of action. I crossed the finish line in one piece, and I have no idea what place.
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Yay, New Mexico!

OK, I'm off to Angel Fire for MSC #2, wish me luck in my cross country race.
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Weekend report

OK, the short version: Friday night I drove to Denver, where I stayed with Will, and his mom. On Saturday I knew I had a race the next day, but I threw logic to the wind and rode the Waterton Canyon/Colorado Trail loop with Wiggitdy. And of course we had to go full tilt up and down...is there any other way to ride?
Sunday we were in the car by 5:40am (ouch!). But it was for a good cause-free race entry, as long as we helped out with the set up and tear down. No problem. In fact, I don't want to sound cavalier about volunteering at races. It's like trail work: If you ride the trails, you should help make them. And if you ride the races, you should help run them. Races wouldn't be possible without volunteers (or else entry fees would be bigger than Avagadro's Number ). So help out! String tape, rake trails, work the registration booth, tear down tents--it's all fun work.
Enough soapbox for now.
Needless to say, the early morning and intense riding made me less than happy for my first couple laps of the very fast, slightly rolling, singletrack-through-open-fields race course. Thankfully I either found more energy or shut out the pain, I'm not sure which. The second half of the race I conjured enough energy to pass the girl that had been the tiny speck off in the distance, finishing in what I thought was something between 6th and 8th. Imagine my surprise to discover that they had read my name off for third place at the awards. Still the results are a little odd; The online version currently says I raced 3 laps (Uh, I very clearly remember suffering through a fourth), and that it took me 36 minutes. I wish!
As for Will, he raced in the sport class, since he just arrived to altitude. That meant he raced the same number of laps as I did. And here's the frustrating part: Even though he broke a chain, raced flat pedals, and just moved from a whopping 700' of elevation, he was still faster than me. Jerk.
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Riding and Racing in Denver

Well, I'm headed up to the big D this weekend to do some riding with my favorite person to ride with, Will, and a race on Sunday. Look for the race report on Monday.
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Dental Work and Determination

What else does a mountain biker do after a root canal, but hop on her bike and ride? Call me crazy, but after nearly wheezing myself to death up a nearby hill a few times, my tooth didn't seem to hurt as much when compared to the burning in my legs...

*Warning: This next section is not for the faint of heart*
The sweet news from my root canal: I am now the proud owner of a 2mm chunk of stainless steel embedded in my jaw. That's right, that little dental pick they use to poke around broke off inside the root of my tooth. Maybe I can use all that excess metal to pick up radio stations from Russia. Boy, that would rock...long rides would be much more entertaining when narrated by somebody named Sergei in Saint Petersburg. :)
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Mountain States Cup #1

I'm racing the Mountain States Cup this summer, and this weekend was my first race. I'm pressed for time (I have a root canal today, ick!), so I'll just say that I got a respectable 5th place in my category, on a course that favored the roadies. I'm sort of the anti-roadie, so I was happy with my performance.
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FROG Race

FROG stands for Front Range Outdoor Groupies. This is a neat little crowd of folks who put on "training" adventure races for each other. Because these events are low key, they are also low cost (a big reason why I haven't done much adventure racing is the multiple hundred dollar entry fees typical to the sport). But this race was just twelve bucks. Who doesn't want to pay $12 to wreck themselves on a nice, sunny Saturday? So my newest riding buddy, Tim, and I teamed up to do last weekend's (week-end's, for those of you who like to rip on how I talk) race in Monument, CO, the next town north of the Springs.
Let me explain the race format: We were given an instruction sheet with sets of coordinates that we plotted on a topographic map, each set corresponding to a checkpoint (CP). Most checkpoints had a question that we had to answer to verify that we were there, i.e. "How many feathers are on the arrow on the USGS benchmark at CP5?" Our mode of transportation was also dictated; "Bike from CP 7 to 8" or "Hike to CP12". But route was completely up to us.
Well, first thing we did was plot CP1 wrong. Doh! Thankfully we realized our mistake before we got too far, but still lost about an hour to our folly. We were able to redeem ourselves in the orienteering course, haring about a regional park chasing pink ribbons tied to trees. Then we began the long slog up Mount Herman road. After about five miles of continual climbing we ditched the bikes and ran to the top of Mount Herman at 9063'. This was not our highest point of the day, as we ran back to the bikes and continued further up the fire road to CP10. Here, at about 9,500', we took stock and realized it would be dark before we reached anymore checkpoints. And we were tired. So, we made the screaming descent back into Monument, knowing that burgers and beers awaited. All told, we spent about 6 hours on the bike and three hours running/orienteering. Not a bad little day.
And yeah, only four teams finished the whole course. Most turned around at CP10 or before. A nice ego boost.
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Grrrreta!

Fruita's most awesome piece of Americana:

Downtown Fruita: Reaowrrr!

Grrrreta is tall

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