Stupid is as stupid does and sure enough stupid
couldn't resist having another go at a farewell dirty century. That was mistake
number one, mistake number two - despite the Bear Mtn Beatdown and Cinco de
Mayo on the Alp - the only time I was in worse shape was for my first race and
mistake number three - having never done it, thinking it could be fun to do
this in the rain.
Knowing a lot of the area the WC100 sounded like a
good time, a lap around Williams lake then onto the rail trail before hitting a
lot of carriage roads (all that I knew really well) a big road climb (done that
one dozens of times) shouldn't be too bad. Sure called that one wrong, after a
good steady rain all night long Williams Lake was a muddy lactic acid filled
conga line that dished out a wonderful helping of technical LT effort riding,
an ideal way to warm up for a long day in the saddle. Add to that humidity
running right at 100% yet not providing that cooling rain and it didn't take
long to become a stinking pile of poly pu.
Finally escaping the hell of Williams Lake I was
ready for some roads and freshly mowed fields to ride across before getting to
my old training grounds at Monhonk and Minnewaska. Not quite so fast on that
one, heading up the Keater Avenue climb rather then spinning it out on the rail
trail for a few miles we were funneled into Larson's Loop. Never heard of it,
had no idea it was there and when it is dry out I want to go ride it again but
today fuck that, it was another long section of technical muddy that by the
time it came to an end my thighs were so full of lactic acid the looked like
these.
Half way to the first rest stop and I was almost
out of fluids, planning for this one left a little something to be desired. And
now it was onto the carriage roads and some long grinders. Normally this is
where I love to ride but not now. Then the random thoughts started, maybe the
100k instead, just a little extra climbing and it would be a coast. Then
reality set in, Larson's Loop and a climb back up to Williams Lake and god
forbid some single track there and I started praying that Beth would be my parking
saviour rather then bottle bitch. Struggling into the rest area with temps
dropping and rain coming down hard it was a no brainer - either head down the 6
mile road descent and freeze my nuts off or have Beth pick me up and in 20
minutes it would be a hot shower and fine glass of red wine. I gave it about a
nano second of thought and pulled the phone out and called for the rescue
squad.
Well it appeared to have finally happened, after 18 successful 100s the
streak was over. But alas I am saved by sloppy course markings and last minute
course changes, it was only 92 miles - still 18 for 18 but definitely done with
this.
No comments:
Post a Comment