Friday, February 3, 2023

Reflection


Tomorrow I will be racing The Snake Creek Gap Time Trials for the 19th year in a row.  I really have raced it close to 50 times as there have been anywhere from 2 to 5 opportunities each year to set your best time. 

I remember the first year, 2005.  I can't put a finger on how I found out about this race. Up until this point, I had only been on tame lap courses, racing cross country.  The Snake was where I first cut my teeth on rocky terrain. I was on my aluminum Specialized S-Works Epic, with 26" wheels, rim brakes, triple chainring, a squiggly SID fork, and a stiff post.  

The course was run in the opposite direction, starting at the gravel road on top on Dug Gap.  I was redlined from the git go.  I rode down "The Wall" white knuckling my skinny bar, pulling on the brake levers with all I had, belly on the saddle.  The finish was not at Dry Creek parking lot (it did not exist then), but where the Pinhoti crossed East Armuchee Road. Bodies piled up in the ditch along the road as we waited for enough of us to collect and be shuttled back in volunteers' pickup trucks.  I can still remember lying flat on my back looking at the blue sky, heart pumping and lungs gasping, trying to bring life back into my thrashed body.  My first coherent thoughts were A) that was F'ing hard! and B) sign me up for next month.

Even though the trail has remained virtually unchanged since then, each year has its own character.  Be it the weather, where I am on this journey of life, or what bike I am riding, this course is brutal and indifferent to you.  While we are timed against others, the true race is against the trail and our own inner demons.

Like February 2013, where there was no bridge at Dry Creek and it was thigh deep and 22 degrees. Somehow I managed to keep my legs dry with large animal OB sleeves.




February 2020 was the closest I came to ever having a DNF at this race.  I was so cold and so miserable at the 1/2 way point, I came up with half a dozen excuses to pull the plug.  But fortunately my good friend Dave was there, racing alongside and helped get my mind right.  Besides the conditions of the roads out of there looked a whole lot worse than just trudging on through the trail.




January 2008 I almost didn't even make it to the start.  I was on "that bus."  As I was riding the school bus over to the start, the driver got behind this slow poke Subaru on the descent off Dug Gap.  She lost air pressure to the brakes, almost plowed over the Subaru, but managed to save it by passing the Subaru on a blind curve.  We were all so fortunate no one was coming up the mountain as well as the drivers' mad skills.

March 2010 was my third fastest time, on a single speed, 3:27.  My second fastest time was March 2009, on my 26" Stumpjumper.  3:26, and just 13 minutes behind Willow Koerber.  March 2014 was my fastest time on my Niner Jet 9, 3:21.




I am not sure why the memories have flooded my thoughts, so much this year in particular. Perhaps it is because I have recently turned 27 for the 27th time.  And have been thinking about my own mortality ... alot. As I have gotten older, the days of the butterflies and the nervous poops are mostly gone.  But I still look forward to putting on that number and tackling the challenges that race day brings.  I feel grateful that I still have these opportunities to play bikes and push my limits.

So as long as the good folks of Northwest Georgia SORBA put on this race, and I am amongst the living, you will see me toeing the line.  This is one tradition I cannot break.

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