Go Big or Go Home

By now some of you have probably heard how the first mountainbike race of the season went, but I'm going to give you a full account anyway...

The season kicked off with the Dragon's Back XC race out in Craig County, VA (near Roanoke). This seminal event marked the first of the Virginia Mountainbike Series, back in its full glory for the first time in many years. The weather gods, however, weren't as excited about the series as I was apparently, as I awoke at 5am on race day to a biblical deluge blanketing the tidewater region and extending all the way to the mountains. Mark and I quietly questioned both our sanity and our chances of surviving the day, while loading the car. Then we grabbed a stockpile of coffee and promptly hopped on I-64 West in search of adventure.

By the time we got to the race venue at 10, the rain was letting up a bit, and was even nice enough to hold off until I crossed the finish line. In true W&M style, neither of us warmed up, and I was the last person to toe the start line. Apparently nobody else did either, and the entire sport class agreed to party pace the prologue, which was a nice change from a normal chaotic sprint start.

The first singletrack of the day was the 2 mile climb up to the ridge, which I hit in about 3rd place in the Sport field. About 5 minutes into the climb, I had shed the rest of the guys like a tear and was halfway through the Vet and Masters guys before I looked back. I remember thinking to myself "Hmmm...maybe I won't lose for once". Mark had worked his was up to 2nd in the meantime, and was doing a hell of a job blocking for me, until I got hung up behind a slower group of Masters dudes on a tight section with no room to pass. Over the top of the ridge, Mark, myself, and C-ville Kyle were back together, rounding out the Sport top 3.

The downhill off this first ridge was tons of fun, smooth with lots of swoooooopy tight switchbacks...I hit the bottom first and Kyle and I boogied down the fireroad together, back to the base of the climb, where I dropped him and started to catch up to the Expert field. Once I passed my Expert bro Kirby, I knew I was rolling...I managed to keep it together for once (despite the gnarly 2nd downhill, which was in serious need of some saw work) and come across the line just as the first drops began to fall, 9 minutes ahead of Mark in 2nd place!

Our only reward was a bush league medal (no podium bunnies either), a long drive home in poochy weather, during which Mark nearly fell asleep and killed us, and a crack in my beautiful new bike:


Surprisingly, even this didn't bring me down off the victory high, so I upgraded to Expert ASAP, hoping to get my ass handed to me at my next race so I can go back to feeling absolutely shitbag about myself...I was starting to develop a dangerous amount of self-esteem there, which can't be good for anyone. Like Bob Roll says, nothing propels a bike faster than self-hate.