Coming back at the provincial circuit

All things considered, this past weekend was pretty much the perfect weekend - I mean what more can a guy ask for? Good health, great support, camping, and fantastic weather. Oh, and giant inflatable pretzels, they're important too. As my last blog post says, I was off the bike for 2 weeks, stuck in bed due to a disk problem in my back pinching on my sciatic nerve. Luckily I bounced back so quickly that it alarmed the physiotherapist that I was seeing, who didn't look like he believed me when I told him that I had got back on my bike. This means that in the 3 weeks leading up to the race, I rode my bike 4 or 5 times. I wasn't really going for a good result; I would just be happy to finish the race, to support my friends, and to have a good time camping!

The race was at Albion Hills Conservation Area near Bolton, Ontario - which is a sweet course that hasn't been in the Ontario Cup circuit for 3 or 4 years. Another perk of racing at Albion is that the trails area awesome, and it is attached to a campground. I camped out with the Wolfpak crew, Sarah from Two Wheel Racing, as well as Davis and Hannah from AWI racing - couldn't have asked for a better crew!

I'm the lucky guy on the left, getting my legs stretched out

If we weren't joking by the fire or eating, we had the luxury of swimming to cool off (it was so hot this weekend that I was melting, but maybe that's because I'm used to days like these.

Alex and I are sharing the most buoyant pretzel in the world (thanks Mary Lynch for the photo)

The race course for the elite race was tough! There were two outstandingly unforgiving hills (the Green Monster and the Wall of Pain), as well as a bunch more hills, and insane sun that I just couldn't get away from - but at least there were gnarly features to huck off of in front of the crowds!

On the race start I was thinking mostly of how badly I just wanted to finish such a tough race, especially after being in bed for 3 out of the last 4 weeks or so. Once the gun went off, I was't too aggressive, and filed in near the back of the pack - waiting to see how the long, hot race would unfold.

I had a couple of pretty good laps, with a big collision with a tree, and fell into "no man's land"after that. "No man's land" is that part in the race where the guys behind you aren't fast enough to catch you, but you have lost enough ground on the guys ahead. It's a tough place to be, especially when you're not feeling good and you know that these guys have trained 30+more hours than you over the last 4 weeks.

I kept confident however, and really enjoyed having a cheering section at most places in the course! The tech features were a positive as well, and though there are no photos of me, this is what doing them looked like.

Big shout out to Andrew, who trusted me with his super expensive wheels not to do exactly what Sarah does in this video. It wasn't completely misplaced trust, I landed smoothly and a little closer to the rocks - his wheels are fine.

Currently I'm on the course for the Baie St. Paul Canada Cup bike race, staying at a campground with wifi...weird right? So I'm sitting in the shade by my tent, waiting for the race to start in like 4 hours - hoping to have my legs back to how I was feeling before this back problem!

Big shout out to CLIF bar for fueling this 2 week trip, and Thule for making me able to pack so well!

Canada Cup at Horseshoe

What's the perfect way for a bike racer to spend a weekend that there is no race? Getting a new bike of course! And the best way to test the new bike? A Canada Cup course at Horseshoe Resort, of course. I had a bit of an odd week, with nerve issues in my back actually. Once I got back to Kingston I had some serious issues to sort out; my right leg had slowly got worse to the point that I couldn't bend my knee past 90 degrees, and any bend in my spine would cause intense pain down by my tail bone. It was a total kicker to have my sweet new bike sitting in my living room and not be able to touch it, not to mention how nervous I was not being able to train (or move my legs or back properly) before the race.

Being a graduate student at Queen's University may be hectic, and unpredictable but it does come with benefits. I'm on a couple of lists for varsity teams, and Queen's really does treat their athletes well! We get discounted physio so that with our health plan it ends up being free for a lot of visits (I hope that I still have some free visits...). Another great thing for me was that my main guy for physio (who had been off for 2 months) was finally back, starting the Monday before the Canada Cup. I went to physio starting Tuesday, and we established that I had some sort of nerve entrapment, and that my muscles were very tight in my bum and lower back, but even after physio on Wednesday all we could do was tape my back and hope that helps. By Friday I was still super stiff, not riding, and leaving town for a Canada Cup. I figured that I'd just have to ride through whatever happens, honestly I have 5 chances at national races this year and I wasn't going to complain or miss one of them.

A photo posted by @cfruetel on Jun 3, 2015 at 12:13pm PDT

Ice baths were a daily occurence for me, anything to numb the pain.

I headed up to the course a night early because, why not? I knew that I wouldn't get there much before dark, but I had some great friends to camp with in the bushes right by the course, though we don't always have the best ideas. My friend Roy and I had been talking about giving my new bike more suspension (according to him, it was as easy as taking out a spacer in the fork), and around midnight after some drinks and much needed campfire time we pulled my fork apart. It turns out that the magic spacer to give more suspension travel doesn't exist, and that we didn't have snapring pliers (we ended up ruining my toolbox tweezers). The end product was an over oiled fork with ironically 30% less suspension.

A photo posted by @cfruetel on Jun 9, 2015 at 5:33am PDT

The course was amazing, and I got to ride my first lap of it behind my coach Andrew Watson, which was helpful to learn the good lines through the trail, and soak up all of the advice from Andrew that I could on rear suspension and course tactics. Turns out that we were messing with perfection the night before, that bike floated through all of the tough sections, mastered the rocks, and flew through the fast sections. The only problem was that I couldn't keep air in my rear tire, I ended up doing the first half of the lap 4 times before I finally gave up on the tire and put a new one on (but I never finished the lap off). The trick for me on this course was wide tires, which help through the sand and through the rocky features.

Concentrating (and probably forgetting to breathe) through the rock garden
(Hannah Clarke photo)

The magic thing about a couple of nights spent in a tent was that it somehow fixed my back. Sure it wasn't perfect, but I wasn't wincing with every footstep, it almost didn't hurt to get in and out of my car, and I could ride my bike and maneuver it comfortably. The race was a big deal, with a really big field, the including number one call up from Guatamala (must be prepping for Pan Am games). It had been pretty dry for a while at Horseshoe, and result was a chaotic start that was so dusty that you couldn't see anything. I wasn't even riding on the trail as we climbed up the ski hill, but I was following the pack and staying on the wheel of the guy ahead of me. Miraculously I've only heard of one crash in this start, Evan McNeely from the Norco team had a tumble, but managed to pull his way back to the podium - well done.

This is after it spread out a bit and we still had quite a dust cloud (Hannah Clarke photo)

The start of these races are always chaotic, and you can't let anyone gain an inch on you, or you'll get pushed off the trial. You ride with your elbows out, and you stick to the guy ahead of you - especially when the trial gets tighter. I was sitting in good position into the first piece of tight trail (called "singletrack"), and pushed hard up a steep hill that linked to the next piece of singletrack when I got "Quebecced".  If someone calls a pass in a logical place and is going faster and has room ahead, and it's not too dangerous, typically you don't pedal for a second, get passed, and keep on racing. This was not that. This guy called a pass as we were taking a tight left hand turn into the next bit of singletrack, to which I said no (we were riding in a big train, I was keeping close to the guy ahead's wheel, and he was on the next guy up the trial's wheel etc.). He proceeded to check me off the trail into the bush, and another guy from his team made sure that I couldn't get back on the trail by also passing at the same time. I was within the top 25 riders for sure at this point, and something had caught itself in my new bike, I couldn't pedal even. I lost probably 10 positions while fixing my bike, and was riding at a much slower pace than I would have once I got back on (I had fallen to a slower region of the pack). I made a few passes when I could, and figured that I'd make up some serious ground on the long, wide gravel road climb in the last third of the lap.

Losing space up the hill, getting passed by Robin (thanks Catrina for the picture)

I fell back a lot on this climb however, and couldn't seem to find any speed, and had to make back the time on the punchier climbs and technical sections. This is where I'm happy and amazed with my new bike. The race was my 5th ride on it I believe, and I felt right at home, catching up and passing guys through the technical sections of trail. I had a great battle with a friend from Ontario named Robin, he would kick my arse up the hill every time, but I managed to catch him through the other sections of the course. He also passed with courtesy and would let me pass when I called the pass. By the 3rd lap guys were already getting pulled off the course by the 80% rule (if you're not within 80% of the fastest rider, you're pulled off the course in pro national events). This brought a new focus to the race, as in my last Canada Cup at Tremblant I had been pulled after 3 laps. I pulled away from Robin, but he still made a gap between us on the uphill, and that left a long downhill section to catch him back for what could potentially be my last lap.

You can see the wheel that I'm trying to get away from just behind me
(Hannah Clarke photo)

As we got closer to the lap zone I heard the whistle blowing, and there was still some serious ground to catch; if I was going into a corner or technical bit, Robin was going into the next one, so probably 15 seconds ahead or so. I went quick, not taking risks so that I'd fall and lose another position, but fast enough to catch back my ground and pass Robin by the lap/finish zone I figured. I came out of the huge rock garden and started to sprint, only to notice that Robin had already been pulled off course and that they were not pulling off course at the lap/finish zone. Looks like I'll have to get him next time! Not bad for a guy who couldn't ride or walk so well all week, I was 39th, which doesn't sound bad if I say it like "well there are only 38 dudes in the country faster than me", right?? Luckily I have the opportunity to race a Canada Cup again this Sunday, at Hardwood Ski and Bike near Barrie; another Canada Cup...Back to where I broke my ribs last year. I'm scared, but I'm bringing my A game, so watch out!

Adirondack super awesome shred gnarliness: the path less traveled

Adirondacks March 2015 from Matthew Farquharson on Vimeo.

Different people have different tactics for getting to through the winter, I'm all about embracing winter for a period of time, then forcing it out of my life. One way I like to do this is give it a good wrap up weekend; "Hey winter, let's have fun one last time, then see you in November, okay?". I decided to plan a trip in the Adirondacks and invite all of my friends! Matt. I love you buddy.
I got confirmation that I had a travel partner at noon on Friday, while gorging myself at an all you can eat buffet for students, Matt was coming and he'd be at my place around midnight.
Around 1:30 Matt showed up, we finalized our route plans, and went to bed at about 2 (I was too excited to sleep actually) and we woke up at 5:30am to get an early start on a big trip (Noonmark Mountain, Dix Mountain, Beckhorn, Hough Peak, South Dix Mountain, East Dix (Gracie) Mountain and Macomb Mountain on day 1, followed by a massive hike around Elk Lake to the next range where we would do Pinnacle Mountain, Blake Peak, Mt. Colvin, over Elk Pass to Nippletop Moutain, then Dial Mountain, and Finally Bear Den Mountain before a big hike out to the car.). We didn't look too hard but it seemed to be something like 2 20km days and about 13 mountains or something. Time to sleep.

The first mountain (Noonmark Mountain) was 75% incredible, the whole way up was really nice and challenging, but once we were about 3/4 of the way up, we were above the ceiling (in the clouds), and couldn't see much. We quickly found out that down could be a lot more fun, and started running and jumping to a slide on our bums (or I even penguin slid on my stomach once or twice). This was like going down a waterslide, except for the fact that there are trees and cliffs around, but it was fun and significantly less effort so why not?

We made quick distance along the valley to the next mountain range, where we started climbing Dix Mountain. This was a complete wall to climb, but once we could get to the top we were able to hike along the dagger's edge of the range, the problem was that there had been so few people using these trails that they were very hard to find.

Matt climbing up Dix Mountain, we did this steepness for about 45 minutes. 

I managed to spot some faded snowshoe tracks, and we began our treck from Dis Mountain to Beckhorn, then across to Hough Peak, and eventually South Dix and East Dix. Getting along the razorback of the mountain proved tougher than we expected for a few reasons. Firstly, it being so late in the winter, we figured that we didn't need snowshoes because it hadn't snowed recently. What we didn't foresee was that nobody gets that far out and does the trails so that we were sinking into the snow up to our knees or crotch or armpits. The next problem was that because the prevailing winds always come up one side of the mountain and down the other, you end up with a snowdrift effect that piles snow taller than the trees, and out past where the cliffs and rocks are. This made for precarious walking, as it was a pretty snowy storm, and if you stepped to close to a buried tree, the snow wouldn't support you at all and you could be up to your armpits in snow.

The struggle was real here (and in the video at the end of this post). 

Hiking along the ridgeline was pretty awesome as the cliffs dropped off on both sides, but it was a bummer that there was so much snow that you couldn't really see out. It was a slow going, with lots of crawling just to keep on top of the snow, or to duck under the limbs that make the tops of these trees, and by the time we hit the turnoff where we would go to East Dix Mountain, we decided to do the responsible thing and get over Macomb Mountain so that we got to shelter on time before it got too dark.

Look how skinny these trees are, they're the tops of trees!

When we summitted Macomb, the trail just stopped. We couldn't even find the faintest trail at all. Upon looking at the map, I realized that we had definitely continued along the Dix Mountain chain, and were actually way out on East Dix mountain. We ended up there because we mistook a fork in the trail. In the summer there would have been more forks than there are because nobody had blazed these trails, so we went much too far up another mountain, and now had to get to the shelter for the night as fast as we could before dark. It was hard to see trails in the light when you're not near the well traveled paths, and it was starting to rain. We never got up the elusive Macomb mountain.

Cliff? What cliff?

We found a lean to just as it was getting dark, and after about an hour of running/hiking in the rain.  Thank you Lillian Brook for giving us a dry spot to sleep. I guess that you can't really trust maps in the winter so much, because you're at the mercy of whoever has blazed the trails before. We were pretty relieved to get to the lean to and start boiling water and re-hydrate our space food. I was sitting in my sleeping bag mixing my packet of dehydrated food and boiling water that I realized what my greatest fear would be: if the whole mixture somehow opened while in my bag. Which happened about 20 seconds after this thought occurred. I may have had water and pad thai all over me, but that night's sleep was the best one that I can remember in a while, bundled up in a 3 sided log cabin with a roof over my head. We slept from 8pm to 7am, ate some oatmeal (we had to share Matt's breakfast because I thought that he said he was going to bring me one too), and hit the trail.

Ready to leave our snowed in accommodations

We got out for a long day and started to work our way around the southernmost bit of our route, out past Elk Lake and then wrapping up north west toward the Blake Mountain Range. It was precarious just like the day before, sinking feet in the snow all of the time, which led to a nervous mission-impossible style of hiking, trying to be light on our feet even with the heavy packsWe got about 14 km from where we started and the trail just stopped. Judging by the map however, there would be a trail intersection in less than 1km, so we decided to trudge through some seriously deep snow. How deep? I don't actually know, because if you're walking on pure snow you typically only ever sink to your crotch. I did however see the tops of what would be ~8ft beech trees sticking out from the snow, so I like to imagine that we were in snow over our heads. Went went over a small mountain pass this way and then the trail stopped. 

It took us more than a half hour to go about 700m. And the there was no trail, just signs where the intersection should be. Our options were clear: hike 4 more miles to up two mountain peaks to where we THINK there would be packed trail again, or turn around, and hike 15km back to where we started, and another close-to-20km back to the car over the Dix range again. Given that we couldn't even guarantee that the trail was packed in 4 miles (and that that would take about 8 hours maybe), and that we only had a couple of CLIF bars left, we turned back. Close to 9km later we were back on trail that was hard enough to run on, still 5 or 6km from where we had woken up, and more than 6 hours into our day, which started at 8am. This meant that it was time to run. We set a good pace along the trail, with a fast walk up hills and inclines, and running flat sections and downhills. Our next trail decision came when we got to the fork that would be either taking a trail straight up Dix Mountain, or going a slightly longer route up Hunter's Pass. Either way, we were more than 30km into our second day of hiking, with limited food, limited daylight, and weather that was getting colder. Matt was a big advocate of going straight up and over Dix, we thought that we could back down in the valley on the other side in an hour and a half. Dix mountain broke us. It took more than 2 hours just to reach the summit, and the trail was TOUGH. 

The higher we went, the further from the top we seemed, worn out smiles

Matt had gotten into his every man for himself mode. We were no longer singing songs (which is fair because we were going up a mountain and that requires a lot of breathing), but the banter back and forth had stopped, and it was a stone cold process of walking, crawling, and sinking through the snow. I could also tell that something was wrong because I could take it easy for a minute and still catch up to him. I'm never faster than Matty up a mountain. After more than an hour of silence (mixed with my mumbling about stupid snow and having to swim through snow to get up a mountain) Matt looked back at me and said that he was cold. Sure, it's the winter and it's quite cold and windy, but the trail was very steep and I wasn't cold at all, the poor guy had bonked, and had no blood sugar left. We stopped and shared the last CLIF bar, getting colder but re energizing at the same time, and kept going. We were climbing a bit of a razorback up the mountain, summitting Beckhorn before continuing up Dix, allthewhile with cliffs on both sides, and only somewhat sheltered by the trees from the wind which prevailed from our left. Finally, we were completely exposed and had made the summit of Dix Mountain, which was a dangerous mix of icy rocks and a lot of wind. 

The way down Dix gave us both the energy to keep trucking, sliding down wall that took us 45 minutes to climb the day before was pretty awesome, like a dangerous icy waterslide that lasted 5 minutes. I set the pace across the valley as we ran back to the car, and just as it was getting dark, after 11 hours of hiking, we got back to the road. It was 19 combined hours of hiking, and about 74km in 2 days, I'm glad that I've got great friends to push myself and find new places with, and that when things go went bad, we manged to make the right call and get out of there, even if it involved 48km in one day in the Adirondacks. Thanks for the support buddy, we'll get that whole route in the summer.

Early winter Adirondack trip

I'm sure that everyone has a couple of friends that tend to get them in over their heads. I mean we always have a crazy good fun time, and it's always worth it, but lots of lessons are learned along the way. There was of course the last Adirondack trip, or the impromptu obstacle race, and now backpacking in the snowcovered Adirondacks again. It was another one of those Thursdays, you're not quite sure what you're doing this weekend and you get the call. We had been thinking of doing a trip to the Adirondacks, but there's that transition season between when it's cold, but still traversible with regular gear, and when there's enough snow that you an grip the mountain side again. That window in between is just icy, and not ideal for a big trip.
Luckily for us, the Adirondacks were just getting tons of snow, and conditions were prime for a winter camping and backpacking trip in the mountains. My friends came up Friday night to Kingston and did the responsible thing of going to a party and being DD. After a late night, we got up quite early that morning and headed straight for the border in Kelsey's new car. The border guard was less than impressed with the vomit all over the side of the car (by-product of being DD), but I guess that really wasn't a good enough reason to keep us out of the country.

Cleaning off the side of the car upon arrival just outside of Lake Placid

The first day of hiking we managed 3 different mountains, and had fantastic conditions. Sure it was quite windy at the top, and the fresh snow led to a soaker only an hour in for me, but at least it wasn't too cold to manage!

Nicer conditions when you're still in the tree cover

Hanging out in these winds at the tops of the mountains was fun, but cold!

Coming down these trails was some of the most fun and hard to control hiking/running that I had ever done. The goal is always speed, and the trails are so steep that running down the hills ends up being almost like freefalling down the mountain, planting your feet where you get the opportunity to steer yourself and slow down a little bit. Then having a big pack loaded on your back puts you a bit off balance, so it's all about calculated risks and trying to keep up I guess! 

Walking up the creeks made for extreme danger of soakers

the trails that we had planned to tackle to get up the summits of the mountains had a general trend: they were partially frozen creeks. The area that we were is a conservation area in the mountain range, so as opposed to cut a lot of nice big trails up the mountains, some trails follow creek beds. This makes for the added challenge extra steep and unpredictable trail, as well as the odd wet foot hole. But the views were always worth it.

Stretching it out on the mountain top in front of the stunning scenery

After a couple of different mountain climbs we were all still smiling, not really wearing out too much yet, and Kelsey mentioned how we had had such a great, relaxed day. Matt reminded him that we had been almost running through snow for about five and a half hours, wow, time flies. 

We hunkered into a "lean to" for the night, and I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I knew what I was afraid that a lean to would be, but surely it wouldn't be so bad. 

Cute, right?

And with a view! 

We were starting to get cold after close to 8 hours of hiking in the snow, stopping only to eat chocolate bars, and this didn't seem like a very warm place to be. Luckily I had some dehydrated food and Jack Daniels to warm me up.

It turned out that I was sorely unprepared for the sleeping part of winter camping. JD led me into a false sense of warmth, but my sleeping mat had a hole in it which didn't help, and my sleeping bag was a 3 season bag, plus I only brought stuff that keeps you  warm while you're running, and a flannel shirt. We hunkered in for sleep around 6pm, and got up at 7:30, which is a long time to be in the cold without moving. Precautions that one must take when they've sunken a boot into water, or are doing crazy endurance stuff is to make sure that the boots are not a frozen block in the morning, and to do the same for your water bladder. This means that inside my sleeping bag was me, my boots, and my water bladder. Outside my sleeping bag was the great outdoors, and something like -20C.

By the time the dawn came up I had waited patiently, contemplating every possible piece of gear that I would bring to the next winter camping trip - or just to go bury myself in the snow for the night. I got us up a the crack of dawn, and we got ready to make some oatmeal and get moving. Unfortunately we forgot the oatmeal, so it was another day of eating chocolate bars, my favourite!

We walked down to the nearest creek, broke through the ice and started filling our bladders with water for the day. my hose froze in a couple of minutes, so in order for e to have access to water that day, I had to keep the whole bladder inside my coat next to my body. Once we got moving, it took several hours, but my right foot stopped being so numb! This was a bonus.

Watch the ledge! Cool canyon that we hiked alongside in the morning.

It took us more than 40 minutes to hike to the sunlight, but it was a beautiful clear day!

The thing about such a wonderful, clear day is that it is inevitably cold. And windy. It was so exciting to actually see around me this day, and not have whiteout conditions, and the 100km/h gusts at the top of the mountains were something that I hadn't experienced either.

Kelsey leaning into the wind, Matt looking the other way

Bros on the top of a mountain

Looking forward (we climbed this steep stuff for an hour)

Looking back (so steep of a slope that the trees aren't really in the way of nice pictures)

I seriously enjoyed this trip, and the frost bite and lost toenail are a small price to pay to be introduced to such a great winter passtime. I've invested in some proper stuff to camp with and backpack in the winter, and next time, I'll be ready! 

Hard training can make for a hard time racing!

Much has been happening this summer, life is a little different now, during my first summer as a grad student at Queen’s (taking a two year master’s program in Civil Engineering). Of course I’m finding the time still to train on my bike, and this year I’m training with a power meter every day, which helped me to train this winter and get the speed that I had found in my legs for the first O-Cup. The downside however of being a super motivated guy with a few good results in the bank is that I was pretty sure that I knew everything: I knew that I was fast, I knew how to train really hard, and I knew that I was invincible. Looking back on my training I’m not sure how I did do so well in the first Ontario Cup of the season, but with my boosted confidence I began to train like a madman, pushing myself to my max sometimes four days in a row watching my power output and designing workouts to push myself. I adopted the attitude that if I wasn’t getting to the power I needed, I simply needed to push harder through the pain and keep training, I was on the cusp of racing at pro speed after all, right?

Pretty soon I'll be simulating rivers in this flume!

Tremblant Canada Cup

This attitude led me to some rough racing. There was the Tremblant Canada Cup, a mudslide of an event – and the race to end all bikes. The weekend was fantastic; I rented 3 condos for all of my buddies and I and we had a great long weekend. My nervousness/sore legs showed the night before the race as I was doing an ice bath, I didn’t ride a fast lap (which I always do the day before any race), and I wanted to go to bed early.

I wanted some company in the bathroom to keep my mind off the cold water, then this happened. Good thing I'm the best man at his weeding, right?

On race morning I pushed myself and stayed in the race for two laps, but my fork was totally seized (I was riding an incredibly technical and demanding course with no suspension), making my bike hard and dangerous to race, and I didn’t see the point in racing the whole race because I was damaging my bike, I was letting people pass me in any technical section because it wasn’t fair to slow them down, and one simply can’t race properly if they’re only treating 1/3 of each lap like it’s a race. I dropped out after 2 of 4 laps, and didn’t think much of it. I did however write in my training diary “Not on point” and that was all.

"Racing" up through the village, sometimes a facial expression speaks volumes!
Thanks Joe Bailey for the photo

Check this video my buddy Kelsey put together of the Tremblant descent last year (imagine this with more mud and no suspension)

Mansfield Ontario Cup

The following weekend was the Mansfield Ontario Cup. Historically this has been a fast course for me (it was my top result last year – 18^th place with two flat tires), and I had 4^th call up (meaning that of the racers at this O-Cup only 3 had beaten me in the first one). I had a great day with my buddies the day before, and was very sure of myself in my ability to handle the course at speed. I had a freshly rebuilt fork (thanks Trek Toronto), and loved being called the 4^th fastest guy of the day (before the race). The race begins with a long hill, which I made sure that by the top of I was 4^th, and by the time we came through for a spectator section of tough drops and turns, I was sitting in 3^rd position – ready for my time in the spotlight. I was racing one of my favorite sets of tires, the Bontrager XR0 tires – they have minimal tread but work well and roll fast if you know what you’re doing with them even though my friends thought that it was a bit bold to use them on the sandy course. Anyway, after making it though the intimidating drops and smiling for the cameras, I totally slid out on the corner right afterwards (still in the middle of spectators), and lost 4-5 positions just like that.

Droppin like it's hot (thanks Hannah Clarke for this one)

 I got back on my bike and tried to bridge the gap back to the leaders, and just couldn’t gain any momentum. I watched my power as I was pushing hard, and even my best efforts up the big hills were about 30% below where I should be. I was pretty disheartened the next lap, and even considered dropping out of the race as people kept passing me who I knew I could beat. By third lap I knew I wouldn’t drop out (rather Dead F****g Last than Did Not Finish show up on the results), and in the 4^th lap I began to have fun again, and found my pace for the day. Ironically a spectator can tell my mood during a race by how done up my jersey zipper is. I rode into a 16^th place finish, a far cry from my 4^th place expectations, but still a very good result.

Undone jersey, unimpressed look on my face (Scotty Toucanlife photo)

After I pulled myself together and deciding that I'd better look presentable (Scotty Toucanlife photo)

There was this beautiful surprise though, and she even took me out to dinner with her race winnings!

That's my girl in 2nd place!

Sir Sam's Ontario Cup and Eliminator

Fast forward a few weeks, I’ve had bloodwork done, I’ve been on my own in Kingston (Tori had been at conferences in Halfiax and Portland, Oregon), I’ve been not training much (but also not sleeping much without Tori), and was hopefully fresh ready to race again. I had even practiced the course, on a special weekend training camp with the Mansfield Ontario Cup champion Kelsey Krushel, shredding the course and camping and swimming.

Sir Sam's Jamming

 It was a great course at Sir Sam’s in Haliburton, and though I knew I wouldn’t be close to riding my fastest yet, I was ready for a weekend of fun, camping and swimming, and maybe some racing, including the eliminator.

Good times on the beach with the crew, next OCA calendar cover photo for sure!

Eliminator racing is a short course and it’s a knockout style of race: 4 go into each heat, and two move on until there is one final heat and one final champion. There’s a qualifying round where everyone rides the course (about 2 minutes long) and then we are assigned our heats accordingly. I was somehow ranked 5^th after the qualifier (which surprised me because I didn’t go quite as fast as I could), and was in a great heat with my nemesis for the year Scott L., good buddy from Guelph Will C. and the up-and-coming Theo (who is about 10 years old and half my size). 

Qualifier over the rocks Jim Cassel photo

The eliminator course started in a small straight section then turned 3 times into a pump-track with rocks, then led us out and back in some fast open trail. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t quite get my shoe clipped into my pedal quick enough, and Theo got the holeshot on me! I could have bowled him over to get into the race with the other guys, but really, I’m not about to ruin some kid’s first ever race with some big fast guys. I bided my time and waited until it was safe (by which point the other guys had close to a 100m lead on me (in a 900m course), and called a pass to Theo once the course straightened out. I shot off with an acceleration that even surprised me, and actually caught the other guys pretty quickly. The problem is that I used my “race winning effort” at the start of the race, where Scott and Will both had some gas left in the tank, and handily beat me when it came to the point that mattered; the finish. I had a great time regardless watching the heats go by and I gave Theo a high five, told him good job, and even stuck around to watch his race and podium the next day. Is there any point in being good at a sport if you can’t be a good sport? I don’t really think so.

Bringing up the caboose in the eliminator Jim Cassel photo

The race started with a bit of a mess, and I was not in good position to climb the hill (well all look like ants climbing up it). The hill is about a 5 minute ordeal of zig-zagging up, which was a good opportunity for me to do some hard work and make my way up toward the front of the pack. I had a great first lap jamming with long-time friend Alex Lefebvre (you really impressed me on the downhill buddy!), and bridged away from him up to the next group on lap 2. Lap 3 I spent my time riding with Robin W. and it took me most of the hill on lap 4 to pull  far enough away from him, but then I rode most of the lap on my own. By midway through lap 4 I was beginning to feel the heat, and I was completely aware that I had not had enough to drink (shivers mid-race is usually a great indicator of dehydration/heat exhaustion), but I had no idea what was how bad this was going to get. By the end of the climb on my 5^th lap I figured that I had a good distance on the next guy back, and as long as I rode clean and safe and didn’t fall I’d have 16^th position in the race secured for another week.

It can be a lonely ride up sometimes! (Hannah Clarke photo)

On the technical descent however, I realized what dehydration on such a technical course could mean. The backs of my arms were seizing somehow, along with my quads. Ever get a footcramp? Picture that in your triceps and quads in the middle of a technical race – I’ve had more fun on a bike that’s for sure!

At the end of the downhill I was shocked to see that Mike H., the Norco XC/Downhill rider had ridden like a bat out of hell to catch me, and that I wasn’t so guaranteed that nice 16^th position after all. I had two notable sections to keep him away; a few minutes of technical twisting uphill section, and then the long downhill into the finish area. I picked up my pace as fast as I could through the uphill, and kept him at bay, but once we had gone down a bit of downhill, he was right on my tail again. I shut the door on him a bunch of times, being as wide as I could in the trail so he couldn’t get by, and right before the last technical downhill by the finish I yelled

“NOTHING STUPID, OKAY? WE’LL SPRINT THIS OUT.”

Signifying that passing me on the downhill would get us both hurt and that we had enough flat space down at the bottom to sprint to the finish though the crowds.

No shennanigans on this hill, thanks Hannah Clarke for making my legs look so great in this photo!

Just as I was about to lay down all my force on my pedals to sprint the finish, my chain popped off. It was as simple as that, no sprint for me. I yelled “awwwwwww!” Mike yelled “awwww!” clearly he was looking forward to the sprint finish too, but not enough to wait for me.

Running her through, bike held high and proudly! Jim Cassel photo