Torin Tries Cyclocross

Well, I apologize for not putting up a post-GMSR blog. I was still trying to figure out if I had died or not. For those interested, here is the recap I sent out to my team after the ordeal.

After GMSR, I hung up the slick tires and tried this weird event called Cyclocross, which involves throwing skinny mountain bike tires on a road bike and riding it places you probably shouldn't.

It's amazing.

My first four races came in late September/early October at Deer Farm and King Pine CX, venues which are roughly a half hour and half-mile from my house respectively.

I entered the Cat 3/4 and 4/5 races at each event, and by some miracle placed top-ten in each. (DF: 5th 4/5, 9th 3/4. KP 2nd 4/5, 7th 3/4)

The courses were tough in each their own way. Deer Farm was a much more technical, sprinty course than King Pine, which featured a monster climb 3/4 of the way through the lap, followed by a descent with a mini-headwall before the finish.

I won beer for my podium placing.

Fast forward to Hallowweekend, and I made the trek down to Hampton Falls for Orchard Cross, a day that started at 4:30 in the morning. Arriving at the venue before sunrise is something I haven't done since my Eastern Cup racing years, but at least it was warm this time. My race was the first of the day, and the dew hadn't quite lifted by the time we were on course. Early corners were slick, and sprinting 4-wide into them saw some (including myself) go down in the first couple laps. At least we figured it out by the pump-track.

Regardless, I found my pack with my teammate Ben and we held a good pace for(read: heckled) each other for the first three laps, sitting just in sight of the lead pack of 5.

After a little bit, I made my move heading up the straightaway and entered no-man's-land for almost a lap before branching up.

At this point, CX races become a contest of who can make it the longest without something breaking or crashing. In this case, over the last two laps, the group of 5 dropped to just 2 between two crashes and a puncture.

For the final half-lap, I hung on to the leader's wheel, and didn't try anything until I saw him fumble while remounting his bike after a set of barriers. I tried sprinting past him on the outside lane of the course (which at this point was between rows of berry bushes), but he headed me off in the last corner, taking the lead into the finish straight.

After eight years of racing, you learn to always take it to the line.

I haven't sprinted this hard since I duked it out my junior year against my teammate in Cross Country, and felt like I was going to die afterward. Looking at the finish line photo, the leader started posting up just before the line, and I was able to come around him and take the win by less than a bike length.