The second race of the Dirty Spokes 2009 Endurance series was held in Winder, GA at Fort Yargo State Park. The usual suspects assembled for the weekend. This year has been a little slower than last year “race-wise”. A combination of weather, timing, and the economy has kept several of us at bay. This would be my first race of the season, and with half the normal miles and no races to date, I was preparing for boot camp.
We may not be the most organized or glamorous team in Georgia, but we have, without a doubt, the best chef. Clark worked his magic Friday night and we were treated to ribs the size of Chihuahuas. Steve and Josh turned in early. Merritt, Clark, Zaxby, and I stayed up and watched the end of Rocky IV . . . the best Rocky.
The trail was bone dry on Friday, but it RAINED ALL NIGHT LONG. I woke up at 3 a.m. thinking, “If it’s like this at nine o’clock, I’m not even starting”. See, I have this policy. I don’t mind riding or racing in the rain. I actually enjoy it sometime. But I don’t start in the rain.
Good or bad, it wasn’t raining when we woke up. We all did our own race day preparations and headed to the start area.
It was a huge field this year. I think the announcer said 400+ entrants. By the looks of it, I’d say that was about right. We had a primo pit area, right on the corner after the timing area. After setting up and kitting up, we headed to the line for the racers meeting and the start.
I won’t go into all the details of the race, but I will mention this. On lap three, something happened. I think the appropriate term is “deluge”. Full-fledged down pour! If you were going uphill, you were riding against a stream. If you were going downhill, you were riding with a stream. If you were in a flat section, which there weren’t many of, you were riding IN A STREAM. The entire course was water. Let me take that back. The entire course wasn’t water. Some of it was “peanut butter”, as Clark would affectionately call it. It made the next hour of racing very interesting.
The sun eventually popped back out long enough to bake the mud on. Then . . . another down pour; then sun. By the time I finished, I couldn’t read the label on my bike and I had literally three layers of mud; crust, semi-crust, and wet, caked on. I did the only thing you can do it circumstances like those. I jumped in the lake head first, shoes and all. I was seriously considering getting a bar of soap, stripping completely down, and taking a full on bath. The presence of the park rangers persuaded me not to.
Josh won . . . of course. Steve did awesome in his first single-speed endeavor. He finished 7th or 8th, I can’t remember. This was the first fat tire race of the year he hasn’t experienced a flat time. Clark and I got 37 miles and 4+ hours of training in. All in all, a pretty good day for the team.
We returned to the cabin for another amazing meal; steak, potatoes, beans, and guacamole dip, not to mention the insane amount of beer we consumed. Suzy, Tiff, and C-Bug came over and had dinner with us. After they left, we hung out with some guys from Tampa, one of which happened to have graduated from Georgia Southern and played volleyball. Small world. We finished the night off around a camp fire. Clark enjoyed it so much, he spent the better part of the night outside. Apparently, it got a little nippy going through the Rockies.
We now get to completely tear apart our bikes, clean, replace, and rebuild. The spoils or racing.
As a side note, my kit, which was completely brown at the finish of the race, looks almost brand new. Special thanks to Hincapie for the awesome new kits... I hope the other guys were as lucky.
