Showdown at Sugar- Race report

In years past, the NORBA series has never ventured farther south than Snowshoe W Virginia, so I never thought I’d be in a position to attend a NORBA Nat’l event. As soon as I heard that Sugar Mtn was on the NORBA calendar for 2006, I made plans to attend. I even went so far as to rearrange my race/training schedule in order to make Sugar Mtn my first ‘A’ race of the season.

I had never ridden at Sugar Mtn. Even though I hadn’t ridden there I knew that it was a climber’s course, after looking at the course map. In the weeks leading up to the race I started concentrating on climbing workouts. Since I was from the flatlands also-known-as Florida, I was gonna be at a serious disadvantage, so I wanted to do everything in my power to shrink that disadvantage. Fortunately, I had some business that took me up to NC about a week and a half early, so that gave me the opportunity to A) get acclimated to the altitude, and B) get some REAL climbing training in.

The week of the race I did a couple days worth of training early on in the week. Not too far from where I was staying was a steep 2.5 mile road, and this road was a great training ground. Sections of the road are a nasty 18% grade, so I think it gave me a good taste of what awaited me at the race.

My plan was to arrive at Sugar Mtn on Thursday and get a couple of laps in on the course, then one more lap on Friday morning. After that I’d take it easy till my race on Saturday. That was my plan, but as is often the case, it fell through before I even got checked in. Someone must’ve been doing a raindance, because it poured all Thursday afternoon… so much for a pre-ride. Since Thursday was a washout (pun intended), the new plan was to hook up with some guys from back home and we’d get a couple of laps in on Friday morning before the Semi-Pro race later in the day.

As tough as I thought the climbing would be, it was nothing compared to the real deal. The initial climb from the base of the slope was a kick in the pants. Being muddy and slick from the previous day’s rain made the climb even harder. I handled the climbs fairly well, but what gave me pause were the technical sections on the descent. Sand, the occasional root, and tight, twisty singletrack is about as technical as my riding gets back home. Rocks and roots galore awaited us on the descent. Did I mention that those rocks/roots were coated in mud and slick from all that rain? Slippery rocks and slick roots… ohh yeah, Sean is walking over that stuff! With my technical skills being somewhat suspect, I decided that, “discretion is the better part of valor”, and figured the best course of action was to do the ole cyclocross thing and run thru the techy stuff.

Once you clear the technical sections you get rewarded to a sick fast run down the slope. Tuck in, and hang on. Yeehaw!

After a couple of laps, it was time to go hang out in the expo area and watch the Semi-Pro XC race (Congrats to Florida boy Ryan Woodall on his win in the Semi-Pro race).

Ryan Woodall, gettin' it done in the Semi-Pro race.

The sun that we got on Friday would end up being a God send for me and my race the following day.

Saturday we were awarded with mild temperatures and more sun. The men’s and women’s Pro XC events were to take place at noon, and even though I had a race to think about there was no way I was gonna miss out on seeing my first ever pro XC race. Several of us hiked up the slope to watch the pros as they came up one of the steepest climbs, and once they had all cleared that section we walked up the slope even farther to catch them as they came down thru the technical areas. At this point, allow me to remind everyone that I still have a race to run in a few hours… so why am I walking UP a ski slope? You really have to be a total retard to walk up a ski slope prior to a race that is going to take you up that very same slope. What can I say, I’m a mtn bike geek.

As it turns out, watching the pros, coupled with the weather would be a major factor in my race.

My race was due to kick off at 3:30pm, so at 2:30 I got changed, got my gear together and went and warmed up.
Throughout all this I was surprisingly calm. This is a national event, I’m not gonna make it without getting a case of nerves, they’ll pop up soon.

At about 3:15 they start calling up the waves of riders. My wave will go at 3:42, and it includes beginner classes from 19 up to 39. There were a LOT of sport and beginner racers. If what the announcer said was true, there were over 200 registered in the two classes… the most ever for a NORBA nat’l event. The various sport waves start going and my wave is inching closer to the start line. Still calm. Hmm, maybe I’m dead.

We’re up. 1 minute before we go. Still calm. Did someone give me some Prozac or somethin’? 30 seconds. This is what I’ve been training for.

GO!

Before my pre-ride, my plan called for punching it for a wee bit at the start, but after experiencing that climb I decided to stick with a strategy of attrition. Get a decent start so as to not get caught behind a bunch of other riders while the leaders get a gap, and then start picking off my competitors on the climbs. Would this strategy work? Read on.

I get the good start I hoped for, solid but not too fast. It’s amazing how a climb can splinter a field of racers almost immediately. No sooner had the climbing started than riders were falling off the pace. I was already passing some riders. With the style of start we had, I had no idea of how many riders were in my actual age category, or even which ones were in my category. I knew of 2, and that was because I heard them mention their category.

The climbs up the slope were the steepest of the course, and there were 3 steep sections. As we were approaching the first steep climb, one of the riders that I knew I was racing against came along side of me, and even got ahead of me by a few feet. As he went by I noticed he was in his big chain ring! Is he crazy!?!? This revelation would lead to my only real mistake of the race. Being as this guy was a beginner, I knew there was no way he could make it up these climbs using his big chain ring without cracking, but what do I do? I attack and reel him back in, and subsequently get ahead of him. *Pre-race plan- Ride your own pace up the steepest sections and go on the attack on the less steep sections.

The steepest section was still to come and I was close to redlining after passing Big Chain Ring guy. At the top of the last steep section there had been a dude with a drum set during the pro race. The drum beat was providing a tempo to pedal to/take their minds off the climb. I wish he had still been there during my race.

I crested that last pitch and I had to stop, as my check engine light was close to coming on. Reeling that guy in had come dangerously close to costing me a DNF. As it was, a quick 15 or so seconds and I got my HR out of the stratosphere and I was moving once again. Some flat/downhill sections allowed me to recover for the next bout of climbing. This would be repeated several times over the course of the race. This course had very little singletrack. Most of it was fireroad with some paved sections thrown in for good measure. After my near disaster I was doing extremely well on the climbs. I was slowly picking off riders. Even now, I don’t know how many, or if any were in my class. I know some were sport class riders, but I just couldn’t take the chance, so I passed every chance I got. I got some good advice prior to the race. “When you pass someone, don’t ease off the second you get past them. Get a gap on them of at least 10 ft. That way they’ll be less likely to pass you back.”

I followed that advice, and I have to say that when I passed someone, I never had them turn right around and pass me back. I’ll remember that little tip.

After an all-too-short descent we were heading up the last sustained climb. This was a recently cut fireroad, and while not as steep as the sections on the slope, it was almost worse than those sections. This climb was fairly straight, so you could look up and see the climb going on, and on, and on, like it was never going to end. It was torture.

I pass two more riders, and would eventually catch on to a train of at least 10 or 12 riders making their way to the top. *Pre race plan- Near the top of the last big climb, attack and gain some ground on the competition.

Of the 10-12 riders in that group I managed to pick off 5 or 6 of them before we entered what was only the second section of singletrack since starting the race. I catch up to and pass another rider in the singletrack. I exit the singletrack, onto a gravel climb, which can mean only one thing. I’m almost to the top, and finished with the climbing! The course peaks right at the entrance to SugarTop condominium, which sits like a monolith atop the mountain.

No more climbing. YES!

The flat paved section allows me to recover and drink some before the white knuckle descent.

*Pre race plan- Survive the technical stuff on the descent. Walk/run almost all of it. Try and make time and/or hold my position the best I can.

Remember how I said that watching the pros would be a factor in my race? Watching all those riders going thru the technical areas allowed me to take note of the lines being taken thru the sections. Add in the fact that the ground had dried considerably, and it resulted in an on-the-fly change in my race strategy.

As I entered the woods, and came upon the first technical section I found myself picking a line and riding it thru. It was a process that was repeated several times. It was as if I had ridden these trails for months. Obstacles that had given me pause the day before were no trouble at all. I’m still amazed at how easily I tackled those sections. My original plan would’ve had me walking almost 80% of the tough sections, but as it was, I rode around 80% of the stuff. While watching the pros, there were still two sections that I intended to walk thru due to their difficulty. As it turns out, I had no choice but to walk these two sections as I encountered a logjam of riders at both spots. No harm, no foul. I make it past all the rocks and roots intact. I survived, the bike survived.

I exit the last wooded section, now it’s just a fast winding descent down the slope to the finish. I follow a sport class rider all the way in, hitting a top speed of 30mph along the way. Wow, what a ride! I finish somewhere around the 45 minute mark, but it would be a LONG time before I learn my final time, as well as how I finished.

Waiting on the results I suffered enough for everyone, so I’ll cut to the chase. I finished with a winning time of 44:51. Second place was around 45 seconds behind me. My time was the third fastest of ALL the beginner classes. I still can’t believe that I went to a national race and won…won on a course with almost 1400’ of climbing. A Florida boy winning on a mountainous course… it’s a feeling that is extremely hard to describe.

The road to this race has been a long one. If someone would’ve asked me back in Aug 2004 if I’d ever find myself winning a NORBA mtn bike race I would’ve laughed at the thought. Going from 310lbs in 2004, to 185lbs in June ’06, AND winning at Sugar Mtn…it’s mind boggling.