Crested Butte 40

It’s Crested Butte!

And Paula riding singletrack! Life is good.

It is unbelievable how green and growing everything is, even though CB is not that far from Salida, and really just on the other side of the divide. The handlebar high lupines and all manner of other thriving greenery were not an exaggeration on the part of the race website. Our tiny pre-ride on the CB40 course can best be described as: pungent. The olfactory sense is one of the best at bringing out memories and feelings, more so than visual sometimes. At times I was reminded of Utah and the Wasatch, and of many Colorado rides and favorite areas. It’s finally time to start thinking about the high country now that snow is in recession.

Due to GPS (user) fail, I didn’t have the track, so I accidentally pre-rode the finishing portion into the CB resort, not the start. But I got a good enough glimpse of the start to get a few small ideas on strategy.

It was a big race, with all Cat 1’s and Wildcats starting together, meaning 150 or so of us. I kept near the front but didn’t kill myself when other people shot off. Nobody got away though there were some bold moves. At the crest of the paved climb before we funneled onto singletrack the race played out predictably. Everyone gunned it to the top, and it felt leg crushing to me. I certainly didn’t want to encourage anyone to ride faster, so I fell back, hovering behind 12 or so riders. There was a 30 second downhill, still on pavement, before the singletrack, and everyone sat up! People reached for their water bottles, I reached for my big ring. From 13th to 4th without even pedaling hard!

We quickly caught the tail end of the Pro Women and the race was shut down for a while as we waited for good places to pass. I think we all welcomed the ‘rest’ as we climbed to 10,600′ and the top of the resort.

photo by Paula Morrison

I’d better watch out, because this racing and fitness thing is getting addicting. I see the appeal more and more, and it isn’t about being ‘fast’ or getting ‘results’ (I haven’t really had any good results anyway). When you’ve got some small semblance of form it simply feels good to ride fast, and is incredibly fun. I had no idea that you could fly up a climb, recover in the first 30 seconds of the downhill, then be fully charged and ready to rail the rest of it. When I raced XC as a junior and in college I used to suffer like you wouldn’t believe–on uphills, downhills and everything in between. I buried myself all the time and could only hold my own climbing. Once the trail turned down I was so shelled that even good skills couldn’t make up for a complete and total lack of strength/composure.

I am not sure if I am pacing better now, riding smarter or it’s just the bits of ‘training’ I have been doing (I still don’t feel like I have done that much). It’s probably a combination, and that combination is a mighty fun one to experience. Throughout the CB40 I felt like I was actually in control, able to surge when needed, back off when shelled, recover and attack again. Though I was breathing hard and definitely working the whole time there were moments when I almost felt guilty for not riding hard enough. And yet I was moving fast, catching and passing Pro riders, and staying in the top five of the Cat 1’s.

Or maybe I was just having a good day. It was hard not to with trails so exquisite as “Upper Upper”, “Strand” and “Deer Creek.” None of them were fresh in my mind, but my mind does remember good trail well, and most of the course was part of the CB100 I raced last fall. I smiled as I recognized certain sections, and recalled how cold and out-of-sorts I was during the 100.

Favorite moments included: watching the bike of the rider in front of me disappear into the Strand Canal, but having too much speed to do anything but dive in and try to pedal underwater to get out of it. It was DEEP! Somehow I pedaled out, and luckily there were enough stream crossings throughout Deer Creek to keep the drivetrain wet and relatively happy.

The granny gear climbing of Deer Creek was awesome! I saw groups of riders walking ahead and figured that would be me soon, but I just kept pedaling… until the whole trail was running mud. Anyone that cleaned all the mud deserves an award!

As I pedaled with the lead 19-29 Cat1, he almost nailed a tricky switchback on Deer Creek. Once I saw him fail I turned on some extra focus so I could clean it and gain a mental advantage. Well, I made it, but my left hamstring came extremely close to cramping just after I rounded the turn. Backfire! I had to stand for a few seconds and slowly stretch it out, and luckily it never bothered me the rest of the race.

Each creek crossing was a nice mental puzzle. Wheelie and hope for the best? Bounce through with both wheels on the ground? Slow down? Speed up? Get off and walk the sticky mud on the sides? Sometimes I chose wisely. Others, poorly, but I loved the challenge and high speed decision making.

There were SO MANY FLOWERS and it was so green, and I could see the backside of Mt. Crested Butte and knew we were looping back, and I felt so good, and there was no nasty rancher to yell at me (CB100), and the sky was so blue, and on and on. I was just loving life, able to completely forget I was racing for some time as I descended alone, putting a big gap on the two riders I had started the descent with.

At the start of the climb to the resort Paula was in the grass, cheering and taking photos. This was a huge boost. I had chased ghosts through Gothic Road, hoping to see the Epic Endurance rider I had been following for so long. But once in the resort I could see 4 or 5 riders, and most importantly, I knew the rest of the course. I revoked the “this is a four hour race, pace smart” rule and turned myself inside out on the 600′ climb. For a while I was tearing it up and gaining a lot of ground. Then in the one snow drift of the whole course (curiously near the bottom of the climb) I jammed my rear derailleur into one side of the snow rut (DUH, melting snow drifts are hard, not soft). No shifty–stuck in granny gear. I stopped and forced it down but lost some momentum.

photo by Paula Morrison

It was really hard to reel people in (funny how much 5% more effort hurts!), but I did pass several, including one in my category — on the final downhill!

photo by Paula Morrison

I finished second in 30-39 and fourth out of the Cat 1’s. I didn’t care that I didn’t win, though it was close, I was just so stoked to have felt strong throughout, raced well and had plenty of power and energy even at the end. I’d highly recommend this race and route, it’s probably the most fun “XC” course I’ve ridden.

I caught up with Ty Brookhart at the finish, among other friends that I saw. We cooled down together and headed back to his place in CB (lucky!) to fetch my arm warmers, say “hi” to Sevan and clean our bikes off.

After awards all I could think of was sitting on a park bench and eating an ice cream cone in downtown CB. That was an easy request to fulfill, and though town was bustling with fat tire bike week and a crazy endless cruiser crit, it was just idyllic, and just perfect. We walked around town, napped a bit, and then Paula went out to get her endorphins for the day while I dipped my legs in the river.

CB actually has a track (Salida’s is torn up for the summer) so it was a good opportunity, though she was very nervous about her workout, and doing it at 9000+ feet.

Still, she nailed it! We enjoyed the short drive back to Salida as the sun set, which was a much cooler time to be driving without A/C. Another great Colorado weekend.

Backtracking a bit… Derrick Nehrenberg (of Juicy Fruita) and I managed to find some rocks in Buena Vista.

Derrick just moved to Salida as well, though more permanently than me. It’s going to be interesting to see where he takes his GPS/MTB business in the future.

Once we saw the “Broken Boyfriend” trail on the map, we had to ride it. There were a couple ledges where one could find oneself with a broken boyfriend, but it wasn’t too bad. I look forward to returning for some “B-Vitamin” (tech trail in the area), hopefully soon.

Paula came with us too and took advantge of the track in BV for another workout.

Looking for Dejay in Salida. Never found him, and it took him a while to find the right route out of town. He accidentally rode right by our back patio (which is not the route) while we were out looking for him. Even as I write this Dejay is off route down by Silver City. I think he gets an award for most off route excursions. Still, he is almost done with the beast that is the divide, and just over twenty days on a singlespeed.

Time for another gorgeous evening ride.

That’s it for now. Thanks for checking in.