NZCX Series 2012, Round 4: Fog City

The name Fog City leads you to believe that there'd be fog at a 'cross race in the middle of winter in Hamilton.  There was none.  There wasn't any inclement weather to speak of.  Where was the rain, drizzle, mist?  The sun was out too.  This was all kinds of wrong.
The saving grace was that the course was located at Pukete Farm Park, on something resembling a sponge.  Any little dribble of rain gets soaked up by the ground and magically multiplied before it is squeezed out like juice from a lemon as bike riders slice and dice their way across the grassy slopes.

The boys from Fog City Cyclocross (a.k.a. The Pain Train, a.k.a. Il Treno Dolore) had put together a mint little course of ups and downs, crissing and crossing.  And of course two "run ups" that were really a couple of banks that you had to clamber up.  There weren't any artificial barriers this year, but there was one natural barrier going up a little rise onto the "hill" that some dudes performed cunning stunts to get over without dismounting.

I was pretty well organised for racing, so got to hang out and talk to a few others before it was time to get out for a warm up and a better look at the course.  The ground was cutting up pretty good, and there was sloppy mud everywhere on the first descent.  I hit something under the mud, tipping me off balance and I made a sharp right turn directly in front of Andrew W who was out for a warm up too.  I stopped against a small tree and thankfully didn't completely t-bone Andrew off his bike.

I continued with a little more caution to check out the run ups.  Only 3 run ups/dismounts on the whole course meant it was pretty fast and flowed quite well.  The hardpack descent was a nice place to get a bit of breath back before the final clamber up the bank and a little jaunt through the sandpit.

I lined up at the back of the grid, with only two other women racing.  A podium placing was a sure thing today, but I still had an hour or so of racing to get through first.  As I was getting ready, I noticed my rear brake lever was a bit loose.  There was no time to do anything about that, we were off!

There was a little bit of argy bargy on the first descent, mainly because there were so many of us all trying to hold a line through the now sliced and diced, Pukete sponge.  I drifted to the rear of the bunch, with a few stragglers behind me.  I had no idea where the other women were - presumably in front.  Hayley was on a CX rig, but Harriet was on her mountain bike.  Neither of them were anywhere to be seen.

The elite guys had taken off from the front and were long gone.  The benefit of such a small number of racers (just 27 in all) was that no one would be pulled from the race if they were lapped and we all started together.  I was just doing my best to stay ahead of the stragglers and avoid the tag of DFL.  I passed Harriet at some stage, possibly going into the last run up on the lap where she was slowed down with the extra weight of her mountain bike.  I made the most of it and took off, though it was all in vain.

My brake lever was flopping around so much that I couldn't hold onto it at all.  I was riding in the drops so I could still use the brake lever and I was climbing with my hands just behind the hoods.  Not comfortable, and not optimal.  It was certainly not possible for me to continue in this way for the rest of the race.

Photo: Megan Ward

Photo: Megan Ward

After I passed over the start/finish line, I pulled off the course and stopped beside Andrew's tool box.  I fumbled around for the 6mm, found it and peeled back the hood to access the bolt I needed to tighten.  I unhooked the rear brake to increase the cable slack to get the allen key inside the lever body.  What an amateur - I needed a 5mm.  I dove back into the toolbox, found the 5mm and gave the bolt a few quick turns.  I was about to chuck the 5mm back into the toolbox when I realised I needed to tighten that bolt up real good.  I gave it a bit more effort and turned it up nice and tight.  I threw the allen key back into the toolbox, threw the bike over the tape back onto the course and threw myself back into the race.

I took off, wondering if I'd be able to catch Harriet again, mindful that if I let the stress get to me I'd waste energy.  It was at this point I coasted into the first corner and almost went right through it.  No rear brake.  Amateur mistake #2.  I didn't reconnect the brake!  I was pretty bummed out because I'm usually quite methodical in my mechanical work, but obviously the pressure of the situation had got the better of me.

Photo: Megan Ward

With my mechanical issues sorted, I settled into a rhythm of riding almost as hard as I could.  I paced myself on the climbs, put in a good effort on the run ups and then gave it death on the flats and downhills - hoping that this is where I could recover all that lost ground.

I was really enjoying the racing.  It was only the first descent on each lap that really gave me any cause for concern, and even then a crash would most likely have only resulted in a very soft, wet, muddy, ungraceful and embarrassing landing.

The best part about each lap was hearing the cheers and encouragement from the sidelines.  Megan had come out for the afternoon with her dog Bodhi and was giving it heaps, yelling at me from across the course (yes, I could hear you!).  Andrew, Oliver and Ella had also come down to watch and cheer on the racers.  They were at the top of the last climb before the start/finish line.  Even though I had to run up this climb (I'd run out of legs to ride it), they were grinning, yelling, and clapping for me each lap.

My lack of preparation (a common theme throughout this blog) meant that I soon found the 39:18 gear too tall for me and I struggled to make it up some of the longer sections of climbing, let alone the short pinch climbs - although with a bit of a run up and added gusto I could usually make it.  I could see Harriet up ahead and wondered if I could close that gap a bit more.

The worst part for me was riding through the small v-drains in the sandpit, just before the final climb.  They were rough, bumpy, soft, and so energy sapping.  Not to mention they were right before that last climb and there was no way I could get a head of steam up through here to help carry me up the last climb.  It was a little soul destroying.

I missed not having to go over any barriers.  Well, not really... I suck at barriers, but it just seems to be more authentic if there are barriers.  We had the one 'natural' barrier log step, but it just wasn't the same.  Maybe next year I will practice barriers and look forward to riding running them for more than just the added authenticity.

The most gut-wrenching part was about a quarter of the way around the lap when I heard the final lap bell.  It wasn't in my final quarter of the lap... it was the first quarter.  This meant I had many minutes of riding left - a lap and three-quarters.  My heart dropped, I almost gave up.  I was just getting back on my bike after the first runup and passing Peter as he scraped the mud off the rear brake calliper of his road bike (with 'cross forks) to try to get the rear wheel turning.  I realised he was having a much worse day than me and I carried on feeling a little less sorry for myself.

When I got back to the start/finish there were quite a few riders milling around.  They were done and so was I.  If we were going to be casual on rules, I would not bother with a bell lap.  Less than half the field did the bell lap.  I'd have almost been out there on my own anyway.  So I was happy to join in the after race festivities straight away.

We got to sit in the sun on the bank and relive our races with all the necessary embellishments, arm-waving and sound effects that are required when describing bicycle racing.

I picked up two third place results for the day - Open Women and Singlespeed.  Happy as.

Results are up on the Fog City blog.