Crazy like a fox!

Sometimes things just don't go your way. I have a friend who contracted swine flu right before his season's goal race. It's unfortunate, but factors outside your control can have an enormous impact on a race. Then there are the things that you should be able to control, but for some reason or other didn't.

The GMBC Crazy 6; I'd planned to start slow and ride myself into the race, a good sensible plan that worked to my strengths. It appears one of my strengths is not checking my equipment properly before a race.

My slow start became a very slow start, when after the first lap emergency maintenance was required. While this put the kibosh on my goals it also took away all expectations I had, leaving me with a peaceful mind, free of all the doubts and fears that go along with a goal for a race.

The course was much the same as the Fire Relief 6 hour and included an ascent of Rockwell Run, up and over to the Junction Track, down Cressy Climb and finally round the Quarry Pit. Translated, this equates to pain, giggles, giggles, giggles. A 1:3 pain to giggles ratio is always going to make for fun times. :)



Since my last visit Cressy Climb has evolved, the rock garden has been extended and large jumps and drops have sprouted into existence. The descent was still fast, a few moments off the brakes, pumping the rollers and berms and you'd far exceed any level of comfort you care hold near and dear. Turn after turn of well built berms begged for you to lean harder, to go faster, to test the very limit of your tyres. Do just that and the reward was terror, the reward was adrenalin, the reward was a grin that took forever to wipe off your face.



Lap after lap I slowly clawed my way back through the field, constantly on the look out for a smoother line, a better way, a faster way. Solo racing becomes about the small things, riding that turn better, using less energy to get over that log, banking over that rock better than last lap.

I'd calculated that I'd manage 12 laps, but with time running down my 11th would have to be fast to manage it. I had no idea where I was coming, but I wanted that 12th lap more than anything! Each climb demanded an out of the saddle effort. Legs tired from 6 hours of riding protested about the demand for more power. Corners were ridden with more speed than before, on lines memorised from laps gone by.



Trees snatch at my arms trying to pull me down, rocks looked to bounce my tyres off course, but their determination paled compared to mine. I checked my watch, it was going to be close!

With seconds to spare I crossed the line, or so I thought. Official race time showed I was too late, a mere 20 seconds were between me and the elusive 12th lap. The officials wouldn't consider changing my lap time, even after I offered bribes of beer, chocolate or inner tubes! Next time I'm going to have find that 20 seconds on my own, I'm going to go looking for it on the way down Cressy. :)