First Timer at the Rat Race

'I do remember hearing something along the lines of, “Pedal, Pedal, Pedal… you fatty!”'I get in line at the top of the course.

My breathing is somewhat normal and I am assuming that I look normal to the person standing beside me, but what can you really tell while wearing a full face helmet and goggles? My gut? Now that is a completely different story.

15 secs…

Denise Britton reassures me that I will be fine as I try and shake off any visible jitters as I climb to the starting position.

5, 4, 3, 2…. 1 Go!

Everything stopped. I couldn’t really hear anything, just the sound of my breathing bouncing off the inside of my helmet.

I pedaled out of the gate and into the clearcut. I have ridden this trail numerous times, including twice earlier in the day. I knew what was coming but had no idea of what condition the trail was in.

Trying to pull it together after the loose clear cut section. Photo ~ Sean Greenwood


Pedalling into the clearcut my worst fears were answered. The trail was loose so I couldn’t pin it without washing in the corners. I have had several well-documented wash outs previously so I did my best to keep it clean.

I slowed, not wanting to lose it, knowing that I could probably gain some time in the forest where the trails were in better condition.

I tore as fast as I could through the clearcut, obviously not fast enough for Dan B, as I do remember hearing something along the lines of, “PedalPedalPedal… you fatty!”

The second half of the clearcut was better. I managed a little whip into the forest and then the trail was mine. I knew I had to make up some time so I threw in as many pedal strokes as I could, clipping the pedals on two rocky corners.

Outside of the sound of my breathing, seeing the trees and the rocks rip by me was the most exhilarating experience I have ever felt in my life. Pedal, pedal, pedal… like a mantra in my head.

Coming up to the sections with people standing on the sidelines, I couldn’t see who they were but there were a few voices recognizable in the mass of cheers and makeshift cow bells.

Whipping for the camera. Photo ~ Dan Barham

I have never come into the little gap after the road then into the new double that fast before, and I surprised myself that I managed to keep it together.

The last berm and a few futile pedal strokes to the finish.

Arriving at the bottom I had promised that I wouldn’t swear, that I would get off my bike and move it to the side so that someone else could enter the finish area. My mind was an instant replay of ripping through the trees, the sound of tires rolling over hard pack and the cheers. I had finished my first Dh Race.

I rode down the dirt path to the road and headed for the truck. A cooler with a few beverages waited for my arrival.

Finished.

I now have a clear understanding why people race. As a champion of non-competitive riding, something changed with this event. Maybe racing isn’t all that bad, and maybe pitting yourself against other people is a way of growing and pushing yourself further and harder. While I will never be as fast as the likes of Dylan Dunkerton or Ewan Fafard, I am sure going to have a junk load of fun trying.

Thanks to the good folks that put this race on and to those that volunteered, without you these wouldn’t happen. To those that got injured, heal up… and I’ll see you at the starting gate next year.

The Standings for the event are listed here… Rat Race




Thanks for reading...