Did the first mountain bike race of the season on Sunday and did ok. I felt great for the first 15 minutes. The race started on a well-graded gravel road that went up and down a series of hills. I started about a third of the way back in the pack and seemingly effortlessly glided up to the front three by the end of the road. Then we hit the singletrack and I pretty much maintained my position. Then the course turned uphill and after about the third switchback my legs started protesting about the unfamiliar efforts (my training thus far has mainly been focusing on longer, less intense efforts and included little time on the mountain bike). In the end I was fourth in my age group and had improved my time by a little over a minute from last year.
Tessa was a ski patroller at Ski Santa Fe who was tragically killed in a shark attack while on a Peace Corps mission in Tonga. The race was started in 2006 by the ski patrol as a way to honor her memory. I didn't know about the race the first year, but in 2007 I got first place. Last year Tanya and I were on a backcountry ski trip during the race so I definitely wanted to do the race this year. The proceeds from the race benefited the Anita Salas Memorial Fund which supports breast and cervical cancer victims in New Mexico. After running into a ski patroller friend a couple weeks before the event and learning that there was a sweet prize list, there was even more motivation to win.
Tanya and I showed up at the Ski Basin with plenty of time to register and warm up. I was able to connect with some folks who I hadn't seen in a while which was great. One of those people was a telemark ski instructor named David who had blown out his knee last spring and had spent the last ten months recovering. Another was Jack, the assistant patrol director who was still smarting a bit from getting beaten in 2007. He mentioned something about my knee caps evoking some sort of Tanya Harding scene--all in good fun, though. After some milling around, Cody, the patrol director and organizer of the race gathered over 50 of us at the start line, gave us a description of the route, then Kathy, the race official, started us off.
After the previous week's race, I had a good idea of the pace I could maintain so I started off strong in an effort get a gap right at the beginning and demoralize the other competitors. As the course steepened, I settled into my usual long-strided shuffle, leaned into the slope and tried to find my rhythm. I was a bit unclear about the course at one point and had to look behind me and yell to the closest competitor for directions. He told me the way to go and I settled back into my rhythm. At this point the course got a little more gentle and I was able to get a little glide out of my skins and lengthen my stride. As I hit the top of Broadway the course merged into a cat track and I was able to kick a glide a bit. I looked back and saw that I had a comfortable lead. I could look up to my right and see the top of the course, but still had a ways to go since the up route was a little circuitous.
I crossed Midland which was the descent route and quickly looked at the gates that had been set up to slow down the racers on the descent. Though the course was pretty flat at this point, I was still breathing hard because I had quickened my pace. I stole another look back at the competition and saw that I had increased my lead. Then the course went up into a mogul field which required a bit of care in route finding so that I wouldn't get stuck in the troughs between the moguls. The run was steep and I had to slow my pace a bit to negotiate the tough terrain. Once through this the course hit another cat track and there was a course marshal there to direct racers to a little track that ascended through the trees. This part was a nice change--off the open slopes of the ski area it felt secluded. I had to keep my mind on the race though since the going was a little bit tough. I emerged from the trees to find I was at the top of the Double (known by patrollers as the Riblet). From here the course went down to a little saddle but because it then ascended a fairly steep slope to the top of the quad chairlift, I elected to keep my skins on and just kicked and glided down the short slope.
I caught my breath a bit on the descent so I could hit the last uphill hard. At the top, the course switched back on itself. As I got back to the place where I would de-skin, I saw that David was in second place and making the last ascent--not too bad for someone recovering from knee surgery! I stripped skins, changed over my boots and bindings to the descent mode and headed down. I had raced slalom when I was a kid so I relied on very old muscle memory to get me through the gates quickly. The middle portion of the course was pretty steep and my legs really started to feel the effort of the super-G style turns. The bottom third was on a beginner slope so I crouched into a tuck and tried to keep my skis flat so they would run as fast as possible. I crossed the line to a few cheers from the folks at the finish and waited to see how close David, or anyone else was. He came in a couple minutes later, followed by Cody and Jack. As other racers came across the line, Kathy informed me that I had broken the course record with a time of 28 minutes and change! The usual exchange of war stories ensued among the racers, then we were treated to a catered buffet, a presentation by the group that was benefitting from the event and finally the awards ceremony. K2 skis was a sponsor of the race this year so the top mens and womens racers got their choice of a pair of K2 skis! This was easily the most generous prize I have ever received. It was a great event with a really good vibe and I will definitely be back next year.
This year just didn't seem like a good ski year for me. We had a lot of snow around the holidays and one good storm after that, but I just never got out on skis that much this season. I tried to maintain a weekly pre-dawn lap of the Ski Basin, but mostly I rode my bike in the unseasonably warm winter weather. However, I did target two local ski mountaineering races (they are both actually too short to meet the strict definition) that I'd missed last year because of other commitments. As they approached, I tried to up my ski training a bit. But I definitely did not feel I was at my best.
The first of these was the Pajarito Pinhead Challenge. I read about last year's inaugural event here and it looked interesting because of the way it pitted nordic skate skiers against randonee skiers. Since last year's event was won by skate skiers, I figured that's who my competition would be. The problem was that the skate skiers would be taking a different route up the mountain than those of us with skins so that it would be impossible to keep an eye on the competition. I figured that once I got to the top where the two routes converged, there would either be skate ski tracks that I would have to follow and chase down on the descent or there would be no tracks and I could cruise to the finish. Things turned out a bit differently though.
The late spring has not been good to New Mexico ski resorts and Pajarito Mountain had closed the week before the event was scheduled. Fortunately, they were going to run the race and other festivities anyway and it coincided with a spring storm that covered up some bare spots on the mountain. I arrived early, registered, got my gear ready, warmed up and headed to the start line. Unfortunately, there were only twelve racers, two of them on skate skis, the rest on randonee, telemark and heavier cross country setups with skins. After some discussion about the routes, we were off! The beginning was a mellow service road so the two skate skiers were able to start rather quickly. I tried my best to keep them in sight, but there wasn't too much glide to be had with skins on the fresh spring snow. There was a telemarker (I later found out his name was Hans--you always have to look out of anyone with a northern european name at these events) close behind me and then most everyone else in a group farther behind. As we hit the point where the courses diverged, I tactically let Hans take the lead; the course had not been groomed and there was only a single skin track leading up the steep slope. I figured there would be an advantage to letting someone else pack out the trail a bit.
As we started up I looked back to see that we had already opened a comfortable gap on the other skinners. I only had to follow Hans and then pass him on some mellower terrain or do a faster transition (stripping skins and adjusting boots and bindings for the descent) and I would be home free, or rather free to do battle with the skate skiers who I thought were my main competition. I soon noticed that the up-track was rather steep--steeper than anythiing I regularly trained on and I had to adjust my bindings so that I had more heel lift to more efficiently negotiate the steep terrain. I also noticed that Hans was starting to pull away! Crap! I tried to up my pace, but I was at my sustainable maximum and had to let him go. I figured he wouldn't be able to maintain the pace and he'd crack before the top--I'd seen it before--heck, I'd done it before.
I kept my mind on reaching the top where I could benefit from a longer stride on shallower terrain but Hans kept getting farther and farther away. We reached the cat track which was the point where the skate skiers' route converged with our route and was happy to see that there were no tracks, except for those of Hans. On the gentler grade I was able to shift to more of a kick and glide technique and was just trying to keep Hans in sight. I was still hoping that my superior transition skills would give me a chance to catch up. That seemed like the only chance I would have since Hans seemed only to increase his lead with his own perfect kick and glide form. At this point the course went over a little sub-peak, then descended a bit to a flat saddle, then ascended to the main peak. Somewhere along here, I lost sight of Hans and my hopes for the win evaporated. I reached the top of the peak, stripped my skins, twisted out of one of my bindings (shit! that's not supposed to happen!), put my ski back on and started on the downhill. Since the ski area was closed, we were able to really open it up on the downhill. The new snow made it a little treacherous on my skinny racing skis, but I was able to keep my speed pretty high. I chased Hans' tracks down to the finish where he was casually standing, not even noticeably breathing. I crossed the finish line in second place and found that he had put nearly two minutes into me! I guessed that my lack of skiing this year really had affected my fitness. After I was able to catch my breath, we congratulated each other and I said something like "I guess we showed those skate skiers." "I used to be one of those skate skiers," he said and it all began to make sense to me.
One of the actual skate skiers (Clay) came in for third a few minutes later. The soft new snow had proved to be a detriment (skate ski races are usually run on well-groomed courses) which gave us skinners the advantage. He said he had actually passed a few folks on the downhill as they had face-planted in the soft snow. In the next few minutes, a few of the folks on lighter cross country gear crossed the line with snow packed in various orifices, but they had smiles on their faces. I was disappointed not to have won but was definitely beaten by a superior athlete. I began to worry about my prospects for the following weekend's race: Tessa's Ascension.
I'll definitely try and do this event again as it was well run and the price was right (it was free!). Kudos to the organizers and all the racers for a fun and unique event!
This past Sunday, we put on the first of two cyclocross races that will happen this season in Santa Fe. Everything went off without a hitch and I even got to race, though I started tired from hiking to Lake Peak the previous day and getting up at 5:30am to start setting up the course. I didn't do too badly though. Out of approximately 25 starters I finished ninth out of only 11 finishers. It was definitely a race of attrition.
Cyclcross season has started. I decided to move up to the 'A' races this year since I did pretty well in the 'B' races last season. The difference between 'B' and 'A' races is that the 'A' races are longer (one hour) and the guy who usually wins is the National Masters Champion from last year.
For a change, we had proper Belgian weather: rain and cooler temperatures so I finally got to race in the mud. Fun times and I ended up getting eighth place!
This was what the bike and I looked like after the race.
I'm just going to throw the rest of these up here for folks to see (and only four months after the trip).
Tanya and I have been threatening to write up a trip report for our trip from June but it just hasn't happened. So I'm just going to post up the pictures.
First views of the Mediterranean
An excellent cafe
In front of the Grand Hotel
Tanya at the beach
There was a nice cycling route along the coast that used and old railroad grade. This is one of the tunnels
Some time last year, my dad decided it was time for another extended family get-together in Europe. The venue this time around would be Provence. The plan was for everyone to stay for a week in a house approximately equidistant from Avignon and Aix-en-Provence. Since my minimum stay in Europe is always two weeks, we decided to go a week early and spend some time closer to the Mediterranean.
Tanya and I quickly decided that we would take bikes, but which bikes? After our trip to Spain a couple years ago and the associated challenges of lugging around full size bikes in full size bike cases, we were interested in getting break-away bikes. I, of course, got my Ritchey Breakaway Cross bike last fall, but Tanya was without one. After trying a couple different models with various component combinations, I built up a Surly Travelers (sic) Check for her. This is also a cyclocross bike like mine but features a different coupler system made by Sands Machine Works. Surly was the only frame-maker that could accomodate a person of Tanya's size and thank goodness they could because the only other option was to go custom. Knowing the exchange rate between the Bush Peso and the mighty Euro, affordability was a definite concern.
So, bikes in hand, we headed off to Provence. We flew in to Marseille, took the TGV to the station nearest our destination and got anaxi to La Garde Freinet, a little village in the hills above St. Tropez (all of this without being charged extra for or inconvenienced by our bikes!). We had rented an apartment on the main drag of La Garde which was located in a converted cork factory. The place was great--except for the bathroom. It smelled of things which Tanya will not allow me to describe here. Let's just leave it at that.
Things have been rather busy for me since I've been spending most of my free time helping to organize a mountain bike race (La Tierra Torture). After many preparation meetings that started in October, many emails back and forth designing the jersey, many trips out to the trail system to figure out what the course would be and a few days of improving the trails, we started getting the site ready for the race last Friday and Saturday. Race day, Sunday morning, we headed out early to complete the final set-up and make sure our course-markings were intact. The race started on-time and went off without too many problems. I even got to race! Unfortunately I placed a disappointing ninth in the field of 30--I had hope to do better after getting third place at my last race, but I think the race preparations of the previous two days and a late night dinner with some old friends caught up with me.
Next up: I'm going to try a road race. Should be a learning experience.
