Bear Creek Mid Atlantic Super Series Finals

Coming into the MASS finals this year, I had no expectations at all.  I'd not been racing and was obviously not in the hunt for the series.  I did have a loose plan that came as a result of attempting to reassure my nervous wife that I'd be OK... Being that I was racing for the first time this year on the toughest, most technical course in the MASS, in some of the most oppressive weather that we've had.  I doubt that I convinced her, but my resulting "race plan" was to go out easy (which I don't do), have fun (which I can't do after going out hard) and most of all be safe (Racing at Bear Creek?)  Right... It's not like there are any places to screw up and hurt yourself there.

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I realized that I'd forgotten my license.  Seriously?  It's been on the kitchen counter, all season.  I rummaged through my wallet to find last year's license.  No.  I took that out of my wallet last week when I cleaned out the useless crap.  Great start... I figured the worst thing to happen would be a forced CAT 2 entry and I'd bandit the pro race, get DQ'd and not have my results show up on the USAC page.  Meh.  The registration people were cool about it and after accepting the registration - pending the official's ruling - I politely told her that I'm going to disappear now and nobody will see me until after the race.  I promised to go to the official afterwards to accept my lashings. 

With an hour or so of the start, I went out for a warmup.  From the first crank, my bike was making a god aweful racket.  It was unbearable and it would have been unsportsmanlike for me to ride the thing in it's current state.  I spent 15 minutes scouring the area for the only tool that I didn't grab off the workbench - a bottom bracket tool.  Figures.  After performing bike surgery half an hour from the gun, I headed out for another short warmup.  Not a peep from the bottom bracket... Score.  You're welcome, fellow competitors.  An announcement came that our start was to be delayed by another 10 minutes, which accompanied by my nerves, prompted me to shoot out for another quick loop to stay "warm" - in the 90° heat­.  Good call.  A few minutes later, I returned to a starting grid packed full of 40 guys.  Fail - I could only laugh at myself for that stupidity.  I found a cozy spot in the back row next to Mike Laub and we made some small talk.  Chatting about our bikes and such I overheard one of the guys near us complaining about his back row position.  He was bitching to the CAT 1 field behind us and generally being obnoxious...  Getting annoyed with his broadcasting of excuses, I just wanted them to say go already...

A hundred yards in, there's a short punchy gravel climb that a lot of guys have trouble with, especially in a tight start group.  I knew it was coming and was able to carry momentum through a loose inside line and pass a bunch of guys.  We hit the pavement climb to the trail head and I was steadily moving up.  About half way up, I hear a pleasant greeting from my left.  I look over, smile and start chatting ... "Hey! How's it goin' Steve?"  That brief conversation was enough put me off the pavement and into the bushes.  I almost lose it all together and pray that there are no hidden rocks in the brush.  I held it together and managed to sneak back onto the tarmac.  Most of my momentum and a several positions gone, Lebair asked me "What the hell was that move?"  "Oh, no big deal...."  Jokingly, I said something about Ordons using some trickery to crash me out in the first half mile. "Rat Bastard."  I regained my composure just in time to stop at the trail head for the bottleneck into the woods.  I dismount, stand there, crack a joke and pick my nose... I probably could have had a beer before getting onto the dirt.  Realistically about 15 seconds later, I entered the woods running - the first 25 places were long gone and I could only see the last 10-15 guys.  I guess that is where a good starting position and some gear options make a huge difference.  Pfft.

The trail turned downhill and over the first root, I burped my front tire.  I think "Wow.  It's going to be one of those days I guess..."  It was just a little bit of air, but it was enough to make me nervous for a bit.   I was probably running too much pressure anyway and after making it through the first rock garden, I forgot all about it.  Feeling good starting the first climb I made some passes.  Halfway up, a guy chopped me, twice in a row on two punchy climbs, completely killing my momentum.  Both times they would have been otherwise clean passes and that kind of crap always fires me up whether it's intentional or not.  Luckily, I had to come off the bike the second time and was able to run past him.  Otherwise, I would have definitely burned another match or three to get around on the next flat section.  Thanks, Richard. 

As I started to descend, I could feel Matt Miller on my wheel.  I know he likes it here and descends really well so I offered up a line.  I figured that he would let loose and was hoping that I'd be able to hang on for the ride.  Just after he went around, I could feel my back end starting to get loose.  30 seconds later I was fumbling around with my CO2s on the side of the trail.  Thankfully, it sealed, but I lost my ride down the mountain, a chunk of time and several places in the process.  The rest of that first lap was pretty much a blur.  I rode fairly conservatively, questioning if the tire was good to go or if it was going to let loose in a cloud of Stans at the worst possible moment.   

Second lap, the tire was holding air and after gaining some spots on the climb, my confidence in the bike came returned.  I descended well and could see some people coming back to me.  Near the bottom of the mountain, I nearly T-boned Festa as he practiced some trials in a tight corner.  He kindly apologized and gave up a line shortly thereafter.  I tell you what, it's really refreshing to be out there with guys that aren't assholes.  Despite what our license might say, we're all amateurs and we're all out there for fun.  Some guys lose sight of that and I think that a little sportsmanship and being a genuinely good guy on the trail goes a long way.  Things like that definitely build some Karma and I think we all could use a little extra now and again.  From my limited interactions with Mike, I bet he's got a lot of points.       

Awesome pictures by A.E. Landes Photography

3/4 of the way around lap two, we were starting to hit lapped traffic.  It's always a frustrating and precarious situation when you have this kind of thing going on and every year I think I have the same experiences here.  I always try to be as nice as possible... I say please when I ask for a pass and thank you as I go by.  I know that nobody ever wants to give up their line, but it's a lot safer for everyone.  Stalling only frustrates the faster rider and a lot of times it will make them force a pass - which can be dangerous and frustrating for both racers.  When a racer catches you and has politely asked to pass more than once please don't ask; "Are you there?"  Yes.  I am here.  Yes.  I still want to pass you safely.  And Yes.  My patience is running extremely thin.  Kindly yield in accordance to the rules of racing.   

The third lap I felt pretty strong on the climb and was able to pick off a few more.  I had no idea what position I was in, but I was feeling good about the fact that I had steadily moved up the whole race.  I took a few chances on the descent trying to make up some time on those whom I couldn't see.  I did catch a glimse or three of somebody that was behind me on the switchbacks and that helped me keep on the gas.  Eventually, I started seeing a carrot out in front but I knew I was running out of room.  As we left the woods for the last time, I could see that he was within striking distance.  I knew that I'd really have to work to bring him back on the half mile gravel finish, so I got on it.  I couldn't turn the pedals over quick enough to close it down on the flat around the lake, but he wasn't gaining anything.  As we started the last climb, I could see him struggling.  About 200 yards out, I made contact just as we crested the hill.  I really needed to make a pass here, but I just didn't have it.  I sprinted hard on the downhill finish, but he had the lead position coming into the sweeping corner before the line.  Hoping that the gravel would make him swing wide, I tried a last ditch effort to get around the inside.  I couldn't hold it, the back end broke free and that was it.  We rolled across together, 12th and 13th place. 

I'm pretty happy with how the race panned out.  I stayed relaxed, had fun and didn't get hurt.  I got to put in a race effort on next year's Nationals course, which suits me pretty well.  I'm excited about getting my ass handed to me by the likes of Todd Wells.  I wonder how many guys will be in that field on a single speed?