Circa 2013.
Just FYI...I know I haven't blogged a whole lot in the last couple of months, but let this be a quick reminder that I italicize and double quote all things that are meant to sound intimidating.
Also, the name of this race always reminds me of a movie my brother got me for Christmas about a decade ago. Wonderful gift, by the way.
2014: Ryanne and I signed up in the Coed Duo class. Race date? This past weekend.
Unfortunately, I wouldn't be sucking any young girls into a labyrinth of horror, nor am I a blood-starved ghoul from Hell. Although, that could be kind of cool. Both of those things.
Coed Duo is normally a bad idea for me and Ry. Most recently tested around 2009 when we did the 12 Hour Duo at 24 Hours of Big Bear. Half the time; twice the suffering. She suffered, that is. I consoled her with french fries from the food vendor at 2AM. Proof that ketchup and greasy fingers make thoughts of scary rocks and gnarly downhills go bye bye.
We were fit to have some competition this year at Brady's, and some superstar couples came out of the woodwork.
I went out at the start and pretty much blew my load five times over on the first climb. I managed to be somewhat close behind the lead group, but then remembered that I was still blowing up. Reality set in, and my brain told me I wasn't worthy of seeing Rob Spreng's dirty camelbak bounce up and down, over the hill and far away.
I paid the price recovering on the more-flat singletrack section up top. Bye bye, yellow Camelbak.
Rob Spreng turned into Rob Lochner (who got second SS solo, by the way!).
The rest of the lap was nice.
I bombed the downhill at the end, and Ryanne went out. The trails were pretty dry at this point. Just tacky enough to really get some traction. My bike had barely picked up any mud, so I used my planned bike maintenance time to eat more food. A short bit later, Ry was back at camp.
I went out and hit the first section pretty hard to try and make up some time. Right before the climb, it's a bit flat, so I pushed it quite a bit. I was riding my geared El Mariachi, which I'm still not entirely used to. I guess I could probably be a little better at shifting gears in the woods. I think I may have been a little faster on my singlespeed, but in reality...probably not.
My second lap time ended up pretty consistent with my first. Ryanne's second lap time was a couple minutes faster than her first. Team Park it Yourself, Metallica Breath / Pro Bikes Mountain was sittin' pretty.
At this point, we were somewhere around fourth place. I still felt pretty good, but part of me was pretending to be the blood-starved ghoul from Hell, sucking young girls into a labyrinth of horror. Ryanne was probably fine just riding her bike.
There was a twisty section about halfway through my third lap, and I saw JPok about two minutes back. He was riding with anger, and I knew he'd catch up soon. We made eye contact, and I cursed at him. He cursed back.
I started pushing a bit harder and managed to keep him off me for a while. My calves were about to explode on the quick, rooty uphills. Oh, and it was pouring at this point, too.
JPok caught me a few miles later. The rain continued. I felt like Rick Moranis used his shrink ray on me and Justin, and the two of us were racing through fields of Peanut Butter.
Now all I could think about were giant oatmeal creme pies.
I finished the lap, then Ryanne went out for her third. The weather really started to turn ugly, and there were thoughts that the race may get called. It didn't.
A couple hours later, I finished my fourth lap. Uneventful. My body was ready to accept food and beer. I came in with a five minute buffer to get Ry out on our eighth lap and last lap. Right before the cutoff, JPok came roaring through. We had about four minutes on him, and he went straight back out on a double lap to chase down Ryanne. After a few miles, he was successful.
We ended up in third place, out of a strong field of eleven teams, from top to bottom.
Our first successful outing as a duo team.
We've spent many, many weekends racing, riding, or bikepacking with Justin and Ruth. It was nice to see them this weekend and catch up a bit. I'm sure Ruth is planning a long and crazy trip in the woods as I write this.
I have a video from a couple years ago of Justin dancing to ABBA's Dancing Queen in Ohiopyle, at 1:00AM. I would post this, but I can't get my external hard drive to sync. I don't sync as well as he rides.
We never really raced against Gunnar and Betsy, before. Maybe a couple of times. Our paths never seem to cross too often, but it was fun to be in the same category. They are fun and quite quick. I don't think that's news to anyone. Their attitude seems to rub off on a lot people, which is definitely a good thing.
The fifth place team, Veda and Nate were really, really quick. They're a bit younger than the rest of us, and it reminds me how I wish I had gotten into cycling at a younger age. Despite being young, they already seem to know quite a bit. I've always felt that pulling consistent lap times in a race or being able to ride a bike for 14-16 hours in a day is the result of years and years of hard miles in your legs and brain. It's just as much mental as it is physical, and those two are well on their way to toppling those who were fortunate to stand above them this past weekend. I just hope they didn't see me do a shot of limoncello a few minutes before my last lap. Older doesn't always mean wiser.
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