After my lap, I went back to my pits and had dinner and just chilled out for the evening. I formulated a plan of action for the race and called it a day. There was a lot of technical climbing and the only thing that bothered me about that was my gearing choice of 32x19 might be a little stiff. Talking to Dicky, I learned that he, DJ and Fuzzy all were using 20's or 21's confirmed that I was gonna suffer on Saturday. Little did I know then, by race time my gearing wouldn't mean anything. One thing I did decide was to keep my WTB Weirwolf/Nanoraptor combo instead of changing to meatier Prowler/Exiwolfs. My rationale was that the smaller knobs may not pack up as bad with mud.Saturday morning, I was up early and trying to get a weather forecast on my Blackberry but the stupid thing wouldn't connect so I started listening to people around me talking about a big storm coming through at about 9:00. After the usual pre-race prep, we lined up for the start and sure enough, 8:55 am local time, the storm hit and it rained for the next hour. We started the race with a LeMans start (I am actually getting better at those, although the run at DSG was a short one) and I worked my way into a decent position before the singletrack. There was water everywhere and people sliding all over. About a mile into the woods I went down hard on a small but steep descent. I jumped back up and got going having lost a dozen or so places. Virtually all the climbs were unrideable because of traction issues so I was just trying to finish the first lap and not stress too bad about who was riding what. The rain was coming down good and the mud, although slick, wasn't too sticky at that point. Near the end of our first lap something happened that sealed our fate. The rain stopped and the sun came out.
That was probably the worst thing possible.
I rode through my pits and changed one bottle for a fresh one ( I had another that was untouched) and went straight out for lap 2. My first lap was about 1:40 and I figured the second would be about the same so I should be fine with the two bottles I had. Boy was I wrong. Going through the field I already could tell something wasn't right. My tires were loading up bad with mud and I had no traction at all. I was having trouble riding a straight line (I had already dropped the pressure in both tires to about 20lbs each). Into the singletrack, I had major problems. I couldn't ride a lot of the stuff I had ridden just a couple of hours before. No traction and my tires were packing up badly. I wasn't long before the mud started packing up on my bike causing major handling problems and eventually getting so thick that the wheels stopped rolling.
I had ridden peanut butter mud before but this stuff was incredible. On another steep descent, I crashed hard again. This time I saw stars and impaled myself on a small stick. It hurt! I got up and assessed the damage and walked the rest of the hill. Unable to start back up because of the mud, I continued to walk...................For the next three hours! By now the mud was unbelievably thick and collecting on bikes and bodies at an amazing pace. Pushing my bike, it gained roughly one pound every 5 to 10 feet. I'd push until the wheels stopped rolling, clean off the mud with a stick, carry the bike on my back until I couldn't anymore, set it down and push again. I'd repeat this over and over. At one point, my bike easily weighed 80 lbs and I was scooping off mud in 5lb handfuls at a time. I came across a number of riders calling it a day and quitting. I determined to finish the lap and then decide. The further I went, the more clear the decision was, I was done. I kept telling myself to keep going, not to quit. At one point, the course comes right into the start/finish area and it would be easy to stop. There was food and relief at hand but I forced myself to go back into the woods. The odd thing was that even though my last lap took nearly 4 hours, I only got passed by a couple of people. It was the most impossible and surreal situation I had ever been in on my bike.
In the last mile of the lap, I was finally able to get back on my bike and ride something. It felt good to pedal again after walking so long. Bonked and sore, I rode through the finish and called it a day.
After sorta cleaning up and getting some food, I checked the results just for fun and was surprised to see that most of the field had only one lap, there was quite a few two's and very few three's and four's. Jeremiah Bishop won the Pro Solo with four laps. My two laps placed me in 6th place in my class and in the top 25% overall. It didn't matter much at point, I was just happy it was over.
I felt bad for the promoter because the venue was great and the course was good. It would have been a good race if it was dry. Most of the feedback I heard from others was positive though. I'll be back next year. The weather is what it is and as they say, that's racin'
I snapped this as soon as I got off my bike. I guess the look on my face says it all......
My Optimus went from about 20lbs at the start of the race to 80lbs at the end (and that's afer being cleaned off I don't know how many times). Through it all, I had no mechanical failures whatsoever. Completely encased in mud, my drivetrain still worked. God I love singlespeeds!