Race Report
Echo Red to Red, March 6, 2010
Category 1 Women, 9th place!
by Elaine Bothe
The first mtb race of the year, with Sage and myself representing the Sorellas in some amazing weather way out in Eastern Oregon. Not a trace of mud anywhere, but lots and lots of bumpy singletrack.
And it’s my cross-country debut as a Cat 1. I’m nervous. After discounting some serious mistakes I made at the start (like being late for staging, oops!) therefore having to start toward the back of the mass start for what musta’ been 100 Pros/Cat 1/Singlespeed men and women, I am pleased with my effort yet there is always room for improvement.
Proud I didn’t get dropped in the neutral 2 mile roll-out, I see Michelle Hannaford’s braids up ahead—she was my nemesis and buddy from Cat 2 Masters last year, she upgraded too! But I couldn't really work my way up much, there were so many people. And it was supposed to be neutral.
Once I got going on the singletrack I started to fly. I picked off some singlespeeders and other riders, including a couple of women. We all have red tags, Pros and Cat 1s, so I’m racing everybody with a ponytail and scoring can sort it out later. Sue Butler (our local hero who is ranked in the top 20 of the world in cyclocross), Michelle, and a bunch of others, however, are long gone.
We’re all strung out like Christmas lights along the serpentine trails. You can see for miles... uphills, downhills, nothing too sustained one way or the other. Bump-y! hardpack greeted my hardtail, thus making my own tail, well, sore. I start to think to myself, hmmm, an extra spring in the back (of my bike!) sure might be nice about now. Turns out everyone suffered, suspension or no.
But I’m enjoying the weather, riding as hard as I can, my HR monitor pooped out but I’m sure I spent the whole time near if not in the hard interval zone... a woman up ahead, I’m closing in, slowly but surely. By now the leaders of the Cat 2 Men’s race, which started a full 15 minutes after my group, were catching us back-markers. Polite passing, I never had to stop, we just chatted and made it all work. I tried to hang onto those wheels as long as I could. One guy passed me, and, hearing a rider coming up, the woman I was stalking pulled off the trail to let him by!! Well, that was too good of an opportunity to pass up, so I rode past her too.
The Pros/Cat 1s shared the first 21 miles with everybody else, and I was finding markers all over the place from last year’s race. I remembered a lot of the hills, creek beds and turns, the rocky stretch where I flatted last year, a cool bridge to ride over then under later, but I couldn’t find the scary parts. I looked really hard, but the treacherous traverses and other scary stuff I remembered just weren’t there. Fortunately, not because they changed the course any, but because my skills grew over last year!
Just when I was about ready to head on into the barn with the Cat 2s and 3s, no! let's see where this other trail goes. 7 or 8 more miles’ worth of entertainment, even though my legs were already screaming full volume. Down a hill, to a really swoopy and swampy orchard full of logs to pop over, bridges, banks and obstacles. FUN!!
A big creek, 30 feet across and a big ol’ log. Cool! I'll ride it, even though it’s 6 feet over fast running water! ERKK! Nope, running it will be just fine, I do NOT want to fall. Cyclocross remount and off I go again. I look across a field to a cliff with ants crawling across it in a diagonal pattern. Ohhhh, that’s the trail, those are bicyclists! and they're walking! uh oh! I attack the hill, having to run a couple of parts but mostly riding it to the cheers of some men I passed as they walked! (OK, most were single speeders, but not all. I checked to make sure.)
A warm cup of HEED at the aid station, the last bits of uphill and sandy traverse to the top of a magnificent ridge overlooking the valley and the Columbia River in the distance, up past the vineyards back onto the gravel road toward the finish. Ahhh, said my butt. Smooth. I down my last two Clif blocks just in case I need a last ditch burst of speed for any reason.
It’s all headwind home, I get into the best tuck a mt bike can provide. TT it, I tell myself. I look back to make sure no one’s coming, head down and pedal. Tire sounds. Ready. oh, a guy. He’s really moving. back to business. More tires. A girl. “Great race!” she said as she passes. “Yeah!” I replied to her. But I thought to myself, who’s done racing? not me!
As I look over to her, I notice she’s on a 29er. Now that’s a mighty inviting wheel if I ever saw one. About a half mile out, too! I can’t believe she made the pass so I glom on. It’s not hard to hang on, and I’m glad I’m out of the wind. Well, I got my bit of recovery, and about a hundred yards out from the finish I stood up and hammered. No warning, no shifting gears, no looking back I just attacked. It worked! I doubt she’ll ever make that mistake again.
What a day. A great race, a burrito with Sage (who finished 4th in the Cat 2 Masters) and my sister Julia and a few other people we knew, sitting in the sun and not winning raffle prizes.
I finished 9th… Michelle finished a spectacular 3rd in the Cat 1s. Wow! Looks like I have some more work to do this year.
Photo courtesy of Oregon Velo.
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