I felt really good on Day Two. Relaxed, calm...not exactly resigned to failure, but accepting of it. There were only two stages: Rock Garden to Otter Slide, then a quickie down Chutes and Ladders.
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| Tram Bar Gun Show |
Rock Garden is steep, rutted, chunky, chossy, dusty. It's not very technical but it's ferociously rough, gobbling up brake pads and tires and turning your hands into stiffened claws. The other two trails are straightforward flow trails with tiny tabletops and fun berms.
I had my best run ever down Rock Garden. Digging deep and pushing hard distracted me from the harshness and the leg burn. Somewhere up there I fell completely under the sway of the Fuel, front derailleur and all. Sure, it climbs like a sullen camel and chatters like a sorority girl on Adderol, but it devours bumps and sings on switchbacks. Those chubby tires made me feel fast and confident.
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| Exhibiting good-ish form for the first time in my life |
I finished the first stage, rode the quick transition, and sent it down the final track. I had wings. I had a perfect race. Everything went right.
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| I was smiling this hard the whole time |
And I placed fourth. But I couldn't even muster up a bit of resentment. I rode as fast as I could. Those ladies were just way faster.
I checked on friends' results. Two of my kids from the team placed high in the junior categories, Gene got fifth in a stacked field, and Derrick smashed his way down the mountain and won the pro race off the couch.
I ended the day riding a party wave downhill with a bunch of boys, sprinting to keep up with them, cornering recklessly, blinded by dust, whooping and beaming. We finished in a train in view of the awards ceremony, just as Derrick was accepting his medal. We made a huge ruckus, to the amusement of the spectators.
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| Hanging with Team Junkshow and Sick Nick |
I rediscovered my mojo this weekend. Sometimes all it takes is a profoundly mediocre finish.
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