As the days get shorter, the air gets crisper, and most of the road cycling races have finished, the cyclists’ racing calendar turns to cyclocross.  The Book of Knowledge (Wikipedia) describes cyclocross as “a form of bicycle racing. Races consist of many laps of a short (2.5–3.5 km or 1.5–2 mile) course featuring pavement, wooded trails, grass, steep hills and obstacles requiring the rider to quickly dismount, carry the bike while navigating the obstruction and remount.”  Cyclocross is huge in Belgium, where it’s probably their second favorite sport after buggery.

The local bike club was sponsoring the first race of the season at a local Boy Scout camp (speaking of buggery), so I thought I’d sign up (minus the aforementioned buggery).  My expectations weren’t high.  I’ve never really raced my bike before, though I’ve done the Rock Cobbler, which has been described as the longest cyclocross race in the world.  Really, I’m just out to have fun, which is just another way of saying I’m not very fast.  (It’s kind of the cycling equivalent of saying, “She has a really great personality.”)

There are three categories based on skill level, A, B, and C.  Unfortunately for me there were no D or F levels.  I signed up for Men’s C level, as I doubt identifying as a woman would improve my results.  I’m not fast uphill, I’m not brave downhill, and my bike handling skills are suspect, so I fully expected to be DFL and perhaps even be pulled from the race in the event that someone lapped me or the time limit expired.  Luckily, ours was the first race of the day and was expected to last only 30 minutes, so at worst my misery wouldn’t last long and there would be few witnesses.

In the weeks leading up to the race I tailored my rides to include more dirt paths, singletrack, sandpits, and trespasses through vineyards.  I even did a few circuits at the local BMX park, though I’d only use the BMX park if there were no kids around.  I didn’t want anyone to think I was Belgian after all.  I also practiced my mounting and dismounting skills to save seconds on the course, which resulted in a squashed nut.  I wonder if older guys with saggy balls are more at risk.  You’d think the tight pants would hold them in place, but sometimes they just have a mind of their own and get into all kinds of trouble.  Whatever the case may be, Lance Armstrong proved that nuts are overrated in cycling, though I must say there is a vas deferens between us.  

How to crush your nuts

My race started at 9 AM and the venue was about an hour away.  I wanted to get there in time to pre-ride the course, so I woke up bright and early and masticated, caffeinated, and defecated before packing my bike and gear into my car and hitting the road.  Upon arrival I put my bike together, got my number and headed out to pre-ride the course.  It was an uphill start that narrowed to single file after a right turn.  There would be a mad rush to get to this choke point first.  The course was then supposed to head down through the archery range for a maze of turns minus the slings and arrows, but that section was removed because some pre-riders discovered a wasp nest the hard way.  Instead, another right turn led us to a long but not steep uphill culminating in some steps that required a dismount and a remount on a platform covered with pea gravel.  A sharp right turn took us down a short steep grade and back up another steep climb requiring a dismount due to the sharp turns.  After dismounting there was a loose off-camber section where it was hard to remount without the rear wheel sliding out, so I decided I’d run this section.  From here the course descended through a zig zag section through a manzanita forest before exiting out onto a dirt road.  The course then veered up the left bank of the road before a sharp right turn across the road and down a 15% zig zag on loose dirt requiring unclipping one foot from the pedals to maintain balance.  A sharp right turn led us over two logs.  The first was rideable, but the second required a dismount for most riders.  A couple more turns and descents and climbs led us back to the start.  Each lap was about 1.5 miles with 200 feet of climbing, and the race would have four laps.

Course map

Prior to the start there was the usual dick measuring, but it was rather subdued. It was the C group after all.  From the gun the leaders fought for position to get through the choke points leading to uphill while others found their pace.  Mine was slow as I didn’t want to blow up.  Dismounts and remounts were a particular problem for me.  It’s one thing to practice them on a smooth road.  It’s another when doing it on a soft, uneven surface followed by a sharp turn, and I lost at least 15 seconds on each dismount.  The manzanita forest was disorienting for some reason.  Maybe it the ever changing light.  Maybe it was the wavy lines formed by the trees, which made it feel like I was going through a van Gogh painting.  Maybe it was my old man’s eyesight having a hard time following the yellow tape that marked the course.  Or maybe it was tough to concentrate when your heart rate is pushing 180.  Perhaps it was all of the above.  

Manzanita Mayhem

On my third lap I misjudged the line up the left bank of the road and took a spill.  Nothing broken, just a few scratches and a little blood.  No need to rub dirt on the wound.  It was already there.  Nothing to do but remount and move on.  Shortly thereafter on the steep and deep I was lapped by leaders.  Passing through the finish the race official held up a card with an X.  What does that mean?  Last lap?  They are yanking me?  They want me to post a Tweet?  Beats me.  I just kept going.  I’m going to finish all the laps I signed up for.

After a few days the results were finally posted online.  The good news is that I wasn’t DFL, but it turns out I was indeed pulled from the race after the third lap because I had been lapped.  Now I know what the X means.  The winner was one of the riders who discovered the wasp nest and had been stung three times, so maybe he gained some superpowers.

The end is near.

If I do it again, there are a number of things I would do differently.  I would get younger as I was probably the oldest guy in the field.  I would consume more caffeine and sugar for more energy.  I would do another lap during the pre-ride to be more familiar with the course and to practice the tougher parts.  I would change my pedals for ones that have clips on both sides to make it easier to clip in when remounting and knobbier tires to improve cornering.  But it’s a poor craftsman who blames his tools.  What I really need to do is improve my skills.  I need to push my pace even if it means suffering a little.  It’s only 30 minutes.  I need to learn to dismount and remount without losing speed and without crushing a nut.  I also need to get better at cornering in the loose stuff even though that means pushing the limits and falling, which I don’t like.  

So, will I do it again?  The course was fun, and I enjoyed the challenge, but I probably won’t travel to other cyclocross races in the Bay Area just to get beaten down in a 30 minute race.  I might do this particular event next year since it is in my backyard, but mostly I’ll probably stick to the kinds of rides that are still a challenge but less racy and with a great personality.

Screengrabs stolen from the highlights video filmed by another rider.