From East to middlewest.
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“Do you have any stickers?” A group of day campers no older than eight raid the expo area of the Mt. Snow venue. One child asks for an autograph while another spins the wheel of a proudly displayed superfly. In his eyes the fresh ink equals gold. While MattO may not be the next Olympic hopeful he still races. He suits up earlier than the pros, races, and has time to fine tune each bike of the Subaru Gary Fisher mtb team. While he may disagree that his autograph is worth something I’m sure that his persistence and ability behind the wrench is well worth the gold. My first hand experience behind the scenes of the Fisher machine confirms that it takes more than just fast riders and 29ers to keep this train steamed. From the team manager to the chef it’s no wonder they’ve produced such results at a worldly level. My results are not equivalent to that of JHK or the young Sam Schultz but I did manage to pull off a top ten at the Windham short track. Despite some hindering flats and mental frustrations my two week stint on the national scene brought a whole new meaning to rigid single speed. There were moments when it felt like I brought a rubber knife to a gun fight as the binge and purge circuit got the best of me and my equipment. The rebound would come a day later as the contrary played into my hands. The 36:16 appeared to work with the short course as I sling shotted my big wheels up and around the competition. Go until you pop and then go harder, recovery is not an option. My next national trip will have me considering an alternative drive train for the XC but short track… the single speed is a crowd pleaser.
It didn’t take long to stabalize my manner once back in Wisco. Afterall, optimism was only an hour away. WORS #7 at crystal ridge was sure to bring out the Midwest mashers and with a change in the course we were in for it. Once the start dust settled I found myself towards the front trailing the local heros as we strung it out through the first section of single track. Mid lap I went through the lead as I dismounted the peak before descending with Marko and Mikey in tow. We worked well together with Mike pulling through on the flats and me on the climbs. Moments after our break I felt what appeared to be the tarsals of an unidentified insect down the back of my jersey. Before I had time to reach around and smash it I was stung. I backed off in an attempt to regain my composure when I felt another within inches of the last. Stung again. This time my reach was enough to hear the pollen sucking thorax crunch. It wasn’t until lap two that the realization of tired legs and dehydration hit me. The 36:17 was tough to turn over in the tight single track but managed as it forced me to climb faster resulting in a break. Marko and I gained the gap midway through 3 as we crested the climb together. Everything felt like slow motion. The climb, the single track, even the flats. My tired legs attempted to gap Marko but it all came back on the climb when I started cramping. I made some stupid decisions early on that put me in hydration debt so I dropped back and let him do some work. We continued to work through lapped traffic for the next twenty minutes as the finish grew near. My sit in recovery appeared to be working but at this point in the race anything could happen. As I exited the single track and looked upward to the finish I bolted on the right as Marko went on the left. I motored home for the win with a cramping Marko in a close second.
