One photo summarizes things up quite well. The trails were a disaster and my face says it was "sort of fun?" in a questioning type of way.
So, to back up, the forecast didn't lie the entire week. I knew wet trail was 100% likely. As we departed on Friday, the rain started to fall before noon, an omen of how things were going to unfold. Luckily, we had Jackson Hole's finest Four Wheel Camper and a truck that's armed for the best zombie apocalypse. Needless to say, we were set to be marked as eco-friendly for those that enjoy Prius'...
Mallory and I both had great visions of a relaxing camping weekend in the sun. Relatively quickly, that buzz of excitement turned to silence and then just longing as the miles ticked away. Somehow, I had visions of Cable being closer when I registered in March.
So, to back up, the forecast didn't lie the entire week. I knew wet trail was 100% likely. As we departed on Friday, the rain started to fall before noon, an omen of how things were going to unfold. Luckily, we had Jackson Hole's finest Four Wheel Camper and a truck that's armed for the best zombie apocalypse. Needless to say, we were set to be marked as eco-friendly for those that enjoy Prius'...
Mallory and I both had great visions of a relaxing camping weekend in the sun. Relatively quickly, that buzz of excitement turned to silence and then just longing as the miles ticked away. Somehow, I had visions of Cable being closer when I registered in March.
Equal parts boredom and kid like excitement got the best of me once we hit minimally maintained forest roads after missing a turn to our elusive campground. Maybe it was the ridiculous truck or race day anticipation. Regardless, mudding is frowned upon when you have a toddler in tow. I thought that's what we got the expensive child seat for, no?
If things weren't already bleak as far as family enjoyment, the mosquitoes swarming the car window were certainly icing. Who knew the bugs would be fierce in June? I thought it was only Minnesota's state bird. Regardless, we had a great evening in the camper, dry and unmolested by bugs while my race steed stuck it out in the rain. Thankfully, Ana's excitement for all things camping and outdoor related brought us joy and we turned in uneventfully no later than 8pm.
Throughout the night, the occasional squall woke me as I wondered if the race would go on. As a noob to mountain bike racing, I hadn't the slightest idea on what the tolerance was for unfavorable weather plus trail riding. The minute it threatens rain in the city, the trails close as a ton of hours go into maintaining them yearly.
Morning brought nerves and an equal mix of excitement and dread. Inches of rain had me wishing for better handling skills and maybe that second mud tire, noting that a rear Maxxis Ikon was a horrible choice. Luckily, the low key vibe at packet pick-up and that friendly trail community feel had me settled and looking forward to whatever the day served. In reality, it was a great reminder that Borah was the first of many learning opportunities before the big show at Breck Epic in August. With that thought, I suited up, fiddled with tire pressure and got ready for the day.
Unaccustomed to mountain bike racing, my mass start was tentative until the first corner. Somewhere in the middle third, the pace quickly accelerated to 28mph as the buzz of tires grew louder. The fun really began as we turned off into the wet grass of the Birkie's powerlines. This thinned the crowds a touch and it was time to find the best lines. Without full confidence in my tire selection I found myself constantly going rigid, reminding myself to relax and not over think it. Right before the single track turnoff, a couple people over steered into a corner causing some chirping and intensity from others. Not wanting to be "that guy" had me constantly tense. With questionable handling skills in front and behind, the classic pile ups began to amount as we got further into the first sections of single track. It was undoubtedly going to be a mudfest and at points a slog for anyone not in that front group.
As the miles ticked by, the crowds thinned. At which point it felt just like a day in the woods riding with friends. My confidence and outlook brimmed as this continued. Although it wasn't possible to take an eye off the trail, it was impressive how intuitive and flowy sections of it were. It was probably some of the best I have ridden and I couldn't imagine a dry day on it. As time wore on, it was obvious that this was going to be a race of gear attrition. The slurry of mud and standing water claimed many derailleurs, drivetrains, and wheels among other casualties. Exceptionally boggy sections of remaining trail were mostly an uncoordinated ski of sorts versus a collection of skillful maneuvers. Really, the entire thing could make you do nothing but smile as it was really just embracing the day and playing like a kid in mud. The only thing interrupting that train of thought was the constant question of whether my groaning bike would make it to the finish line. Luckily, it held strong.
In summary, I was simply happy to finish and learn throughout the day. A few things I confirmed were:
If things weren't already bleak as far as family enjoyment, the mosquitoes swarming the car window were certainly icing. Who knew the bugs would be fierce in June? I thought it was only Minnesota's state bird. Regardless, we had a great evening in the camper, dry and unmolested by bugs while my race steed stuck it out in the rain. Thankfully, Ana's excitement for all things camping and outdoor related brought us joy and we turned in uneventfully no later than 8pm.
Throughout the night, the occasional squall woke me as I wondered if the race would go on. As a noob to mountain bike racing, I hadn't the slightest idea on what the tolerance was for unfavorable weather plus trail riding. The minute it threatens rain in the city, the trails close as a ton of hours go into maintaining them yearly.
Morning brought nerves and an equal mix of excitement and dread. Inches of rain had me wishing for better handling skills and maybe that second mud tire, noting that a rear Maxxis Ikon was a horrible choice. Luckily, the low key vibe at packet pick-up and that friendly trail community feel had me settled and looking forward to whatever the day served. In reality, it was a great reminder that Borah was the first of many learning opportunities before the big show at Breck Epic in August. With that thought, I suited up, fiddled with tire pressure and got ready for the day.
Unaccustomed to mountain bike racing, my mass start was tentative until the first corner. Somewhere in the middle third, the pace quickly accelerated to 28mph as the buzz of tires grew louder. The fun really began as we turned off into the wet grass of the Birkie's powerlines. This thinned the crowds a touch and it was time to find the best lines. Without full confidence in my tire selection I found myself constantly going rigid, reminding myself to relax and not over think it. Right before the single track turnoff, a couple people over steered into a corner causing some chirping and intensity from others. Not wanting to be "that guy" had me constantly tense. With questionable handling skills in front and behind, the classic pile ups began to amount as we got further into the first sections of single track. It was undoubtedly going to be a mudfest and at points a slog for anyone not in that front group.
As the miles ticked by, the crowds thinned. At which point it felt just like a day in the woods riding with friends. My confidence and outlook brimmed as this continued. Although it wasn't possible to take an eye off the trail, it was impressive how intuitive and flowy sections of it were. It was probably some of the best I have ridden and I couldn't imagine a dry day on it. As time wore on, it was obvious that this was going to be a race of gear attrition. The slurry of mud and standing water claimed many derailleurs, drivetrains, and wheels among other casualties. Exceptionally boggy sections of remaining trail were mostly an uncoordinated ski of sorts versus a collection of skillful maneuvers. Really, the entire thing could make you do nothing but smile as it was really just embracing the day and playing like a kid in mud. The only thing interrupting that train of thought was the constant question of whether my groaning bike would make it to the finish line. Luckily, it held strong.
In summary, I was simply happy to finish and learn throughout the day. A few things I confirmed were:
- The mountain bike community is awesome - not cliquey and sucky like the road racing community. I'm hooked, similarly to the gravel scene.
- More time on my mountain bike is necessary - my engine is quite good. Handling is what slowed me down.
- Switching to high fats and less carbs in daily life has certainly helped eliminate stomach stress and the need to eat frequently over a 2-5 hour effort. I didn't have to get militant with it to see the benefits.
- River baths may be good for your body, but not your bike. *Hello fork rebuild!