The craziest thing happened, I opened my eyes and I was in Giddings, TX
I know I didn’t feel that great.
Some how the old man rallied me up, loaded my car, said I would be ‘mad if I woke up in the morning and felt good’.
So off I went on “the road to Warda.”
It was like a dream, it was like driving on the 4th of July.
There was carnage all over the road. I have never seen so many accidents,
flares,
and emergency vehicles on a drive in my life-
or stupid people driving over 40 mph.
I made it to Giddings, and figured the Ranch gate would be closed so I got a hotel in Giddings.
I didn’t sleep at all. I just lay there in and out of consciousness. That room was cold. Colder than it would have been if I would have slept in the back of the truck.
I made my eggs, not so smartly, with my propane burner, in the bathroom with the vent going. I will remember anytime there is a chance of me getting a hotel to just bring the hot plate. It worked and I didn’t die or catch the place on fire.
Off to the ranch. I was pretty happy I was there. It was cold, 22 degrees.
And I had realized the night before on a phone call,
“Ken, please go out on the back porch and tell me if you see my Leadville Bike Bag and 2 helmets (1 being my headlamp helmet) on the back porch.”
-“yes”
Let me tell you, this is not a good way to start a 12 hour race.
Oh and my rear end salve, where was that, well, of course, my bike bag.
This is going to be interesting. And painful, and at night time, dark.
I know a lot of people at the race.
I am always so happy to see old friends and meet knew ones:
Kathy, Mark, Scott, Daniel, Patti, Bobcat 13, Mike, Nick, Caveman, Cupcake, Jen, James(how ’bout some cash), who else? Well, I am tired, it’s past my bedtime, I know I am forgetting some of you.
It was great being out there. Kathy said, I could use her lights. That’s cool. I was a little pressed for time because I didn’t get to Giddings until a little before midnight, and I didn’t “get up” until 6. I was dilly dallying. Just dragging.
Rush, Rush, food, table,water.
Port-o-potty x a million 🙂
Start, slow jog, bike. Not in a hurry, broken jaw, let everybody go. Oh, oh, it’s frozen, and the roots are slippery, and one hill is so frozen, no one can walk up it, they have to walk up the bluff and then over to the trail.
My jaw surgeon is not going to be happy with this.
Luke, I think, you’re right, I need that fancy downhill helmet for a while.
I’m smooth and relaxed, and feeling, wiped, winded, but good, if I keep slow and steady, nutrition always wins the race, and I have optimal nutrition. But hell, I was ready for my espresso before I even started racing.
Then, I get to the back of the lake.
I slip lose control of the bike on an icy root, I hit another icy root, and lose control a little more, I am getting ready to head butt a tree, and I know the time on the rollers last week saved me from that,
and my screaming f’bomb.
I think, when I can eat a rib-eye I will be good to go to take some risks. Until I get eat a big fat rib eye and some potato chips, I should take it easy.
And give into the icy races.
3rd lap, I hear it the vrrrvrrr sounds of my rear fly wheel. This is not good, free wheel is loose again, and then, my tire goes flat. And I walk off the course, to the timers and ask them to scratch that lap. I ask Scott if I can scratch all 3 laps and go out SS. Hell, I’m not even 3 hours into the race yet. He says, just kick butt on SS.
OK.
I was like,” this is awesome, God wanted me to race my SS, I love my SS, this is so fun, wow, I’m going to get like 8 hours in on my SS. Man, do I love this thing.”
So I go out, I get about half way through that lap and my brake feels weird. The rear brake that I haven’t used in over 2 years because it screeched like a dying elephant. The one the shop ‘fixed’, obviously something went array, because a brake pad fell out.
Had I not just been on the Kona, had I not had a broken jaw, had the course had less ice, and mud, this would not have been an issue. I have been minimally using the rear brake for years. The aforementioned reasons seemed like a good enough reason to hang out with Bobcat 13, and his buddy from College Station and drink my espresso.
I wasn’t really sure what to make of it all.
I recognized I had been fighting a lot of resistance. I walked back and had them scratch my lap, and then, I went to see if anybody had a brake pad. Kathy, Scott, Daniel did not.
I had another idea, David’s Cycles from Houston. They did. And then, I ate my lunch and meditated, and meditated some more, and decided I wasn’t really interested in hitting the freight train. How many times is the Big Man Upstairs going to slap my wrist today, and yesterday, before I actually listen?
How much of an idiot am I going to be? I mean after all this is kind of like driving 55 mph on sheet ice.
Oh, and did I mention when I put my bike in the car, I had a text, “the pipes broke”?
Enough is enough, I am going to cut my losses, go visit with people I think are cool, chill out, and say my good byes.
And I am so grateful because I have this weird feeling that beginning a 4 hour drive at 9 PM after riding my bike for 12 hours with remnants of ice still on the roads is not part of God’s Plan for me today.
So I had a great day, got about 3 laps in, not as big as my 50 plus miles 2 weeks before but hell, I am very happy that I missed the freight train.
Oh, and my 2 laps was good for a podium finish, 3rd place. Pathetic, lets get you ladies out there to race. C’mon girls, I know you’re up for the challenge. There is no reason 2 laps should get 3rd place.
Peace.