Greenbrier

4/30/2006
So, the race at Greenbrier last weekend, it didn't go quite as planned. It was a beautiful day and I arrived fairly early, making sure I'd have time to chat with friends and watch Mike and Tris start the Sport category races. I was feeling good as I warmed up later, preparing for the 2 PM start for Pros, Semis, Experts, Clydes and us singlespeeders. That is the latest I've ever started a race, and I was a little concerned because I would be needing my caffeine lift about that time and breakfast would have worn off hours earlier. In an attempt to alleviate those disadvantages to the late start I had stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way to the race and purchased a small coffee, and brought some of my homemade energy bars.

I felt a little unusual lining up with all of the other singlespeeders; somewhat out of place, like a neophyte sneaking into a meeting of the cognoscenti. But the ones I know seem to universally be an easygoing friendly breed, and I was put at ease as I chatted with RickyD, JoeP, Camp and others.

My strategy for the race was simple -- don't slow the experienced SS'rs down at the start, don't blow up in the first mile, take it easy and feel my way around. With the terrain, I wasn't sure how I would hold up. I survived 25 miles and 3 1/2 hours at Michaux Maximus with much worse terrain and conditions the week before, and I figured I would survive the 17 sun drenched miles at Greenbrier -- but I did want to put in a decent showing with my new classmates. When the man shouted, "Go!" I was off at a pretty good clip. I settled back going into the doubletrack for the first climb, and let a few people pass. My carefree attitude lasted about to the technical rocky section, where my competitiveness kicked in. Or maybe it was my impatience at people moving gingerly through the rock garden. In terrain like that speed is your friend. The momentum you have will get you over the rough stuff and keep you from falling over. It's simple physics: rolling bicycles are stable; stopped bicycles fall over. At any rate I passed 4 or 5 people stopped or dawdling through that rocky section trying to pick a line or something. "Come on guys, just blast it!" I was thinking. About half way through the first lap, or maybe not quite half way, I passed RickyD, which I wasn't expecting. He wasn't having a good day at all -- some days are just like that -- maybe he's under some Greenbrier curse; his unfortunate hand injury last year, slow legs this year. About 3/4 of the way through the first lap I came up on JoeP. That didn't seem right either, I shouldn't have caught either of those two... maybe everyone was having a bad day.

I suffered through the rest of that first lap and as I started up the really steep hill on the second lap and got off to walk I saw... was that Camp? Naw, couldn't be. I caught up about 2/3 of the way through the second lap and was trying my darnedest stay on his wheel. Going through the downhill section that leads to the lake, being the really nice guy he is he pulled to the left to let me have the right lane to pass. Having that nice suspension fork I think I was having a much easier time of it than Camp on his rigid -- that section is quite bumpy. 20 seconds later I wished he hadn't given me room to pass, because as I turned onto the lakeside trail I knew by the squirminess that I had flatted the rear tire. Dammit! I haven't run tubes in 4 years, and it would seem learning what tire pressures are safe to run under differing terrain is part of becoming a more experienced rider. Obviously 30 PSI was less than what is required on rocky, rooty trails. Eight minutes or so passed while I was changing the tube -- trying to put that Continental 28" heavy (oh so heavy!) tube on a rim made for 29" was a new challenge I hadn't prepared for, but I eventually got things put back together and was on my way. Surprisingly I still wasn't the last singlespeeder, as I soon caught up to and passed a couple. But a flat tire wasn't the only trouble I was to have that day.

Going up the first climb of the third and final lap, my chain fell off. "What the hell?" I thought. "I'm on a singlespeed, that's not supposed to happen!" I popped the chain back on and finished the climb, and things seemed to be okay again -- until I came to the really steep section. I started mashing hard on the pedals to get up that first rideable part, and suddenly there was no resistance. "Damn chain." And then I looked down. And noticed that my new chainring was in a decidedly un-chainring like shape. In fact it was about as bent as it could get. Two chainring bolts had fallen out or come loose and sheered off, and my race was finished. So, I took the chain apart at the powerlink and took some shortcuts back to the start/finish. I won't say where I think I might have placed, because it really doesn't matter. I DNF'd, my first ever. I was disappointed at what might have been, but not very upset. I had proved to myself that I could keep up with many of the other singlespeeders and that mattered more to me right then than being able to finish the race. And it turned out that I would have a very nice race at Lodi the following weekend...