I participated in the Sandwich 50. It is a 50 mile mountain bike race last Saturday. Seeing how there aren’t 50 miles of mountain anything around here, the organizers decided to do 7 laps around Eastwood park. Let me just say I was not physically prepared. I had just started a new consulting job in St. Paul and was unable to ride due to the long commute.
Saturday morning, I woke up and looked at the clock. Unfortunately the clock said 7 am. The race was at 9 am. So I get up and take a quick shower and then put on my lucky Hundo jersey. I picked up the Hundo jersey at last years Almanzo 100 gravel race. It’s quirky and I like it. Loading the Jeep for a race drives me nuts. Mostly because when I get back and precede to unload everything I threw in the Liberty. Seriously, what was I thinking when I took 7 water bottles and a couple of tubes. One of which was a road tube. What was I going to do with that? Wear it as a sash? The Jeep is loaded and the Niner is snuggly on the rack.
I pull into the parking lot around 8:20 am. A few people are putting things together, but hardly any riders have arrived yet. I park next to a pickup truck and meet Todd from Minneapolis. He looks young and fast. Like myself he is also entered into a 100 mile mountain bike race in a couple weeks. My buddy Erik shows up with his new carbon Stumpy. It’s a 29r, and for it’s size it’s wicked light.
Like everybody else, I do the pre-race wait in the port-o-john line. Before the race we are told to place our bikes by the parking lot. Then go stand by the ball diamond fence and put one hand on the fence. We are instructed on the “go” to run around the play ground and then to our bikes. It’s about a quarter mile run. Yes, that’s right folks. It was a Le Mans start. Running to my bike was the only time I could honestly say I was with the lead pack. That would have been a good time for a picture. I got on my bike and the troubles started immediately. Trouble clicking in. You have to be shitting me. I had some issue with these new clips before but not for days and I thought they had worn their way out of that problem. The next problem was my derailer was not behaving on the climbs anytime I put some power to the system the derailer would have the chain doing some nasty jumping around. This basically left me with only one gear for the first lap. Now in the middle of the woods I could smell something. That something was bacon. Ron Moffit and his non-hipsters were makin bacon and handing it out. I yelled to them that I would like a strip. As I passed they had no bacon. I could hear Ron yelling at the guys to stop eating the bacon they were to hand out. A little later with all the bouncing around my seat slipped and now my legs were not at a good geometry for peddling or anything else for that matter. I think I was looking like I was sitting on a bmx bike as I completed my first lap.
Lap 1 is complete and I am way back, and I don’t care. I stopped at my cooler and started fixing all the crap that shook out on the first 7 miles. I pulled the seat up and cranked the clamp so hard I cried out “Mother of Mary!”. Remember Todd? Well he was having issues as well. But, he stopped and gave me a hand in fixing my rear derailer.
Lap 2 has begun and I’m pretty much all by myself. Into the first climb I realize I still have issues and begin adjusting things while still riding. I get the rear derailer set so it’s “kind of” working. I’m nearing the bacon stop and I yell up for 2 strips to make up for last time. Ron yells back, “How do you go so slow and not fall over?” “That’s called talent Mr. Moffit!, mostly a lack of that is.” I receive my 2 bacon strips and continue.
The bacon stop is a mixed blessing. First off, a fatty treat is not what you should be eating during an endurance event. Your body has to work harder to convert it to something your body can burn. However, you could grease your chain with it if necessary. Also, they are cheering a mix of insults and encouragement. “You suck!” “You rock!” “Have some bacon!” Lap 2 finishes with nothing note-worthy.
As I begin lap 3. Al Farrow is yelling me on. Al’s a good guy and freaky fast on the roads. He knows where I am place wise but gives me a pat on the back anyways. In lap 3 I have to stop to adjust my seat and I’m more than slightly pissed off. I drop an “F” bomb and get off my bike to fix it. Somebody watching comes by and asks me how things are going. “Well, when you see a guy racing that’s not on his bike…that’s that typically a good thing.”. I take another strip of bacon and a thunder of insults. I’m out of breath and eating bacon was a problem at this point. I think I spit most of it out. My arms are getting really tired from the ups and downs, and my breaking too much.
Lap 4 just sucked. My bike was not right, and neither was I. I’m out of shape and my bike is not tuned right. I may have told the bacon people to fuck off. Not sure, but whatever I said got a pretty good cheer. The hard bumps are bugging me. I’m really sorry I had not put my Reba fork on. The carbon Niner fork is sweet but not today.
I started lap 5 and in my first climb I got dizzy at the peak. After every clime I was having dizzy spells. I knew at this point I was on my last lap. I would back off and go a crawling speed, but the recovery only lasted until the next climb. I stopped at the bacon stop and got off my bike. I wasn’t sure if I’d be thrown on the grille or hung from a tree. What I got was a lawn chair to sit on and a gator-aid. It was at this point bacon boy James asks me, “So what did you hit?”. “what?”, James points to my arm and it’s scratched up. “I think I hit a tree after climbing the cardiac section, but I don’t recall falling down.”. I sat there for maybe 5 minutes and continued. As I started, a bacon boy pushed me like I was a NASCAR coming out of the pits. I completed the 5th lap. Went to the time keeper and told them I was out. I felt really bad about that. I had a headache that lasted for maybe 45 minutes. Then I felt fine.
I don’t know. I want to think had I not had so many little mechanical things go wrong maybe I could have at least finished. Maybe I should have passed on the bacon. Maybe I should have braved the Spring wintery conditions and road more. I’m not sorry I participated. Especially because on the gift table for the riders, I scored an Elvis Peez container. Anyway, the race put things in perspective for my Almanzo 100 this weekend and the 100 mile Cheq., and the perspective is pretty dam bleak.
