SSUSA 2010

I blame it on Lynda. When I rode with her last weekend she made singlespeeding look so fun. More fun than it has ever seemed to me.

She was riding a shiny silver Lenz singlespeed. Perhaps coincidentally I had just picked up a shiny silver Lenz frame from Mike on the Kaibab.

As I was drifting off to sleep on Monday I was thinking about transferring my old parts to the new frame when it hit me. Why not leave the shifters off? It’d save me some setup time and Dejay’s “Singlespeed USA” was coming up. Plus Chad had a new YESS tensioner that was rumored to work well on full suspension frames.

Though I had no place asking him for it, given that I had chided him for even thinking about turning his Leviathan into a singlespeed (!), he hooked me up with the tensioner, a cog, some spacers and everything else I needed to turn my shiny Lev into a single. (Thanks Chad)

And so, for the first time I had a legitimate entry and chance at Dejay’s singlespeed race. (Previously I had both “won” the race by cheating on a geared bike and also been completely decimated on a borrowed rigid SS).

course map, a classic Tucson loop

Dejay had a little surprise for us at the start. Front wheels were removed and bikes left on the side of Redington Road. I have one of these:

DT 9mm non quick release skewer. Great for descending Milagrosa and hucking ledges on upper Chiva. Not so great for quick transitions. It really only takes a few extra seconds to tighten down. But I fumbled with it, almost left half tightened, then stopped to twist it some more.

So I started 50 or 60 riders back and the leaders were already out of sight. Fiddlesticks!

I clawed my way into the top twenty relatively quickly, but the price was high. The leaders were well ahead and WAY above, which was not inspiring. I took time benchmarks and surmised that they were not riding any faster than us, they were simply ahead. I planted that (perhaps untrue) thought in my head and kept focused… just a bad start.

I slowly picked a few people off, but it was hard work. I found it almost impossible to bridge up to the chase pack on the singlespeed (spin spin! tuck tuck!), but I did everything I could, and finally passed a Durango rider just before the singletrack. Several chasers were visible ahead on the singletrack, and I knew I had an advantage on the next section of trail, so I backed off and tried to recover. There wasn’t much recovering going on, but I caught the group of 4-5 riders, and Beto was there to clue the others that I knew where I was going. “Follow Scott, he’s GPS man!” At which point they were stuck on me like glue as we made our way down the vague “trail.”

The upper chiva loop is full of steep ledgy climbs. Just rideable on the SS, but I knew my legs held finite strength to climb such things. And that strength was much less than the guys around me. So I walked early and I walked a lot. And I didn’t really lose much time. My entire body was coming unglued, though. It had never really come down from the ferocious start.

The entire race was really fun for me mentally. So many things were new that I had to constantly flex my brain as to how to react and what was “fastest.” I am not used to starting so far back in any race — I’ve always thought that it was hard to deal with mentally and that the urge to give up is too great. But it wasn’t today. I took it as a new challenge and it was super fun. I had plenty of new challenges, so what’s another?

I was a little puzzled that I couldn’t catch anyone on the high chiva descent. It’s easily as techy as anything on Milagrosa, and I was riding aggressively and hucking ledges. Then one of the guys was on the side of the road with a flat.

I could not shake one of the Durango riders, no matter how hard I tried. He admitted to being in survival mode, and I responded by singing the “I love hike-a-bike” song as we pushed our bikes up “the Chute” on chiva, even though I was most definitely in survival mode as well. We kept the pace high on Redington and learned we were in 10th and 11th from other riders on the route. We chatted about the trail ahead and riding in Durango, and though we were talking we punched all the hills, to which my quads responded with the quiver of cramping.

Crud. Cramping is rarely an issue for me, but then I don’t normally ride this fast, nor do I ever ride singlespeed. I figured it was from torturing weak SS-specific muscle groups, not other causes. I tested that theory several times over the next hour, discovering the limits of what I could and could not pedal. It became a game of seeing how much I could get away with, running just up to the edge of cramping, then backing off. If I had been descending a bunch I was good for several bursts out of the saddle. Otherwise there was no choice but to walk.

Learn and adapt. But most of all, keep moving.

I went from 11th to 8th by riding self supported and skipping the “comfort station.” Out of sight, out of mind. I attacked weakly, but one rider who was at the aid station (Tim Allen) pulled me back in. I trailed behind him as I continued to teeter on the edge of shutdown. We caught up to Fuzzy all too quickly. He muttered something about doing a big race just recently, then I pedaled around to continue hunting Tim.

I pedaled on the nose of my seat instead of standing and found that my legs held energy. I just couldn’t access it. Not on this bike and in this terrain. I reeled Tim in on the dirt road climbs just before Milagrosa. I figured the advantage was mine, with all my suspension. But boy was I wrong. He absolutely rocked the trail, start to finish. On an 18 pound rigid bike! Going into the gauntlet I was very curious to see how much he would ride, thinking my trail knowledge and supposed skill would finally give me the break I needed.

But he rode just as much as I did, and when I clipped back in before the first switchback, my calf cramped. Ooh. Had to let that settle down before attempting to navigate the rest of the rock garden. Tim was well ahead by now. Awesome.

I closed in on the straight/fast/rough sections, though I think I was just as rattled as he was, or perhaps more so. Despite my complete lack of composure, I remember several moments of “wow, I love this bike”, flying off a ledge or maneuvering around some tricky obstacle.

I spied Beto ahead, and when I passed it was clear he was either spent, spun out or didn’t care. Maybe a combination of all three. I quickly spun up to Tim as we exited the singletrack onto neighborhood roads. “I guess it’s going to come down to a sprint finish”, he said. “Yeah, kind of lame to sprint flat pavement into someone’s driveway.” But so it was, and after yoyo-ing back and forth a little, I motored on ahead and signed the finish sheet fourth. I don’t really know what place I was (probably 5th because someone didn’t sign in?!), but it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy I was able to ride anywhere near these guys and was able to hold together a solid SS effort. I had an awesome time out there, riding hard, learning and pushing limits. Just another great day on the bike.

I am looking forward to more rides on the SS Lev, for sure.

PS – Check Mike’s pics and words from the snowbiking trip.

And, trackleaders.com is getting slammed by Yukon Quest and Kiwi Brevet fans. Had no idea both of these events were so popular. So far so good on the tracking side of things.