Race: NORBA NCS #2
Place: Snowshoe, WV
Date: 6-15-2003
Distance: 8.9 miles
Speed: 5.0 mph
Time: 1 hour, 36 minutes

For the third consecutive year, the NORBA NCS circuit returned to Snowshow, West Virginia at an altitude of 4700 feet. West Virginia-"Wild and Wonderful." Their state ad slogan should be "Wild, Wonderful, Wet, and Muddy!" Like much of the East Coast, West Virginia has experienced a very wet spring. At the beginning of the weekend, conditions were as muddy as they were two years ago. By the end of the weekend, they were worse. Rain interspersed by dry periods caused all of the singletrack to congeal into a peanut butter like substance, which was unridable. Even the pros were off of their bikes much of the time running. 

The course changed for the better from the last two years. Gone were the two terrible climbs directly up the ski slope. They were replaced by a little downhill and a mile of unridable mud bogs, er, singletrack. The Short Course was approximately 8.9 miles. It began by the registration and spectator area with a short climb up a paved walking path before going into a slightly downhill doubletrack section. The starts would be very fast. The course then narrows and dips into the first short singletrack section-a steep downhill covered with babyhead sized rocks and roots. Two lines were the most common-a roll straight down the middle over the rocks and a smoother line to the left that had a tree sticking out into. The course then veered sharply right and up a gravel covered hill. It dipped back into the typical West Virginia singletrack-tight, twisty, rooty, and rocky. The singletrack and rocks were covered in layers of thick mud that clung to the bikes. Several short, steep downhills were interspersed among the flat singletrack. The course turned right as it headed around "Shaver's Lake" on singletrack covered with gravel. The course then opened up onto an earthen dam by a lake and then onto a gravel road that began the first climb back up the mountain. The first half mile was not hard as it was gradual climbing on the gravel road. The trail then turned up-straight up-for a short hike along a service road before going into the mile of unridable singletrack. With about 3.5 miles to go, the course came back out onto a service road that climbed gradually before taking a left hand turn up a doubletrack climb. The final half mile climbed straight back up the ski slope towards the finish area. 

The small Senior Sport Women's field of six lined up with the rest of the women in Sunday morning's race. There were about 17 ladies total. All amateur divisions were to do one lap of the short course. The promoters shortened everyone's race because of the atrocious course conditions. With some of the pros turning hour and a half laps, the amateur racers knew they were in for a relatively long race despite the short distance. I took my starting position on the front row with the other Sport Women. With the sound of the official's gun, we were off. I stood up and sprinted to the front. I did not want to get caught behind the slower riders in the first singletrack downhill. When I reached the doubletrack, I glanced back and saw that I had about 3 seconds on the field. I put my head down and cranked it out to try to widen it. My legs were saying that they had more gas, so I turned it on a bit more. About fifteen feet before the downhill, I slammed on my brakes, crossed my right foot over the left side of the frame, and did a flying cyclocross dismount to the cheers of....noone. There were only 2 people watching on this usually popular spectator spot. I jogged to the bottom, remounted, and grunted up the first short climb. The lone Master Sport Woman passed me. I would see her off and on throughout the race, always just ahead but never catchable. As I dismounted for the next singletrack, there were a few women within 10 seconds. I pushed the bike and jogged when possible, but the thick mud made it difficult to do more than a slow walk most of the time. I began to pick off the stragglers from the men's Beginner division and the Junior Olympic riders, both of which had at least a 5 minute start on us. I did not see any Sport Women in my immediate vicinity. I continued to walk through the singletrack. I managed to remount for about twenty seconds once but decided not to waste my time trying to get off and on the bike again. It was faster to do a little early preparation for cyclocross season by running and lifting my mountain bike over objects in the way. Finally, I came out onto a gravel section and was able to get back on for a minute or two, which was again interrupted by a mud bog. I took the right hand turn for the short course and hit the singletrack by Shaver's Lake. Ah, flat gravelly bliss! I started to make up time on the woman ahead of me. I was by myself on the singletrack except for the odd Junior here and there. My mind and body were in the zone, and the race was going my way. I was in the lead and had plenty of time to increase it. I dismounted once for a really boggy section. The far side of the "creek" was very steep, and I did not want to chance slipping down if I attempted to ride it. I practiced my running cyclocross dismount and quick remount--anything to save a few seconds. Coming around the lake, I saw another Sport rider behind me. The crazy chick was on a single speed! I did not change my pace because I knew that she would not be able to stay with me once we hit the climb. Having a granny gear on this course was an advantage. She caught up to me and sat behind me around the lake. We chatted for a second and agreed that the mud was beginning to suck. Once we hit the bottom of the gravel road climb, I quickly dropped her. My legs felt great, and my lungs were not giving me any problems. The climb steepened about half way up. Everyone was off of their bikes and walking. I thought it best to do the same. The single speed rider was about thirty seconds behind me. I huffed my way to the top of the climb with burning calves. I remounted for a few seconds before having to get off again at the mile long hike a bike singletrack section. Thankfully, it was flat. The mud was so think that it clung to every part on the bike. This was the first time I ever had clearance problems with disk brakes. Several times, I had to clear the mud, leaves, and a branch from the front arch of my fork. I kept the bike rolling as I did so. Never lose forward momentum I kept telling myself. The mud tried to suck my shoes off. A few times, the mud ran a little thinner or water appeared. I used those to roll Toast (my bike) through to loosen the mud on her tires. I felt fine and kept trudging along trying not to think of anything. 

The service road finally appeared. Only about 3.5 miles to go. I ran, hopped on, pedaled a few revolutions, and heard a crunch. I looked down to see my chain caught in between the cassette and the wheel. I looked back and did not see anyone behind me. I got off and tried to pull the chain from its captivity. After a few seconds, I saw that my cause was fruitless. I was in the lead at a NORBA NCS race for the first time ever. It has been a goal of mine to win a NCS race for three years. My rear derailleur was broken in half, my right rear seat stay was bent, and the derailleur hanger was mangled beyond fixing on the trail. My poor Toast! I had two choices, and I had to make a decision quickly. I could either walk out to the road and go back to the venue or continue to race and finish. I was virtually guaranteed a medal if I finished based on the horrible conditions and the DNF ratio of the last few days. I decided to press on. I needed the exercise and figured that it was easier to walk and run the gradual climb up the trail than the steep road back to the top of the mountain. Several minutes later at the three miles to go sign, the single speed woman passed me. She made the right equipment choice for the day's conditions. I looked back at my mangled bike. I continued to jog. When my calves protested, I walked for thirty seconds. I am a cyclist, not a runner. My muscles are not used to running before cyclocross season. Another Sport Woman passed me right before I hit the forest road climb, which would take me to a half mile to go. I alternated running and walking as conditions on the forest road dictated. I walked where there were rock gardens and thick mud. I jogged as much of the rest as I could. The hard soles of my cycling shoes took a beating as did my feet that had nothing to cushion them during the run. While I love my Sidi's for riding, I was wishing for my Asics running shoes back in my room at the condo. Finally near the top of the forest road, a lone Junior passed me. I popped out onto the pavement and got cheered on by some guys washing their bikes. Click, click, click, click went the Sidis as I ran on the road. A small downhill provided several seconds of relief for my feet as I mounted the bike and coasted. The last doubletrack section was very muddy. Two of the Junior women passed me but had to dismount as the mud grabbed their bikes. When we hit the final gravel road climb, they disappeared. I walked the first half of the hill. My calves were on fire, but I was determined to finish. I looked back and saw no one coming behind me on the hill. I put my head down and continued to trudge. At the top, I looked back again and saw what I thought was the jersey of another Sport woman. I put my legs into fourth gear and began to run as hard as I could. I hit the pavement and nearly fell. I caught my balance and continued to run, egged on by the announcer. I got up to speed, hopped on my bike, and crossed the finish line astride Toast. I got off, walked through the chute, and nearly collapsed. My legs protested that they did not like running. They wanted to ride not jog the course. 

Somehow I held on for third place. Although I was disappointed that I might have won if not for my terrible mechanical, I was proud for having finished. I could have quit and pitied myself with my terrible luck, but I stuck it out and finished. Isn't that what mountain biking is about anyway? Perseverance, sticking it out, relying on yourself, and having a good time no matter what....There is always a next time for the first victory. The memories of this race will certainly be with me for a long time.

Geoff Kabush (Kona) makes the climb up the fire road on the first lap.

Chrissy Redden (Gary Fisher-Subaru) smiles before the start.

Ryder Hejedal (Gary Fisher-Subaru) looking very clean before the start of the race.

Todd Wells (Mongoose-Hyundai) stares into space.

Jeremy Horgan-Kobelski (RLX) thinks about winning.

The Pro Women's XC Podium: 5th: Mary Grigson (Gary Fisher-Subaru), 2nd: Chrissy Redden (Gary Fisher-Subaru), 1st: Jimena Florit (RLX), 3rd: Katerina Hanusova (Luna Chix), 4th: Sue Haywood (Trek-VW)

The Pro Men's XC Podium: 5th Paul Rowney (Sobe-Cannondale), 3rd: Kashi Leuchs (Maxxis-Trek), 1st: Ryder Hejedal (Gary Fisher-Subaru), 2nd: Jeremy Horgan-Kobelski (RLX), 4th: Todd Wells (Mongoose)

Jeremy Horgan-Kobelski is happy with his second place.

Sue Haywood waves to her home state crowd as she crosses the finish line.

Chrissy Redden waves as the finishes 2nd.

Ryder Hejedal crosses the finish line for the win in the Pro Men's XC.

The men look pensive and clean before the start of the muddy Pro XC race.

The Sport Senior Women's podium. Trish Alber (Team Peggy) won 3rd (second from the right.)

This is the damage to Trish's bike-bent derailleur hanger and sheered off rear derailleir.