“The chicken was crossing the road.” My friend and fellow racer Madonna explained
why the neutral start slowed down at one point during the Fool’s Gold 50 mile
race on Saturday, September 7. I heard
this, and nearly snorted water at the person next to me on the post-race drive
back to our cabin. We were euphoric with
finishing a long day, some longer than others, and this conversation kicked off
the silliness for the evening.
The Fool’s Gold 50 mile race started out of the Montaluce
Winery and Estates in Dahlonega, GA.
Racers rolled out behind a lead car onto pavement in the early morning
haze. We dipped into a small hollow and
the pack slowed down. A mother hen and 12 chicks needed to cross the road. That friendly ethic typified the positive
race atmosphere. Fellow racers were
courteous, volunteers helpful, and the course was a mix of gravel road
finishing with a nice amount of smooth, speedy, fall in love with mountain
biking single-track.
I set out at a pace that my legs agreed to, and settled into
gravel road climbing and descending. A
group of us went back on forth, single speeders and geared riders, and made for
some entertainment. People made way on
the descents and the climbs, and there was plenty of room for passing and being
passed. After some time and 18 miles in I refilled my pack with Infinit and my
legs woke up.
After the second aid station I started coming up on some
familiar riders including my friend Jana and then I closed in on my good friend
Madonna. People in Charlotte know
Madonna as MC. I met Madonna, who I’ll
refer to as MC for the rest of this story, when I first began mountain biking. MC was one of my mountain biking
heroines. She still is. She’s fast, a great technical downhiller,
wicked climber, and race savvy. And best of all, she is a kind and thoughtful
person. Except maybe when she is racing.
So I pass MC and the next 10 miles become the best 10 miles
of the race. MC and I killed it on the
single-track. We passed men, women,
chickens, birds, you name it, we were flying.
We saw Elsa, stalwart and steady, as she was pedaling her way in the 100
mile race. Elsa looked happy and the day
was beautiful.
Late in those ten miles I felt my bike get a bit squirrely
on the turns. It’s an odd feeling when your tire wants to jump off the
rim. I realized that my rear tire was
low. Too low. And MC was hot on my wheel.
Smiling MC |
I got a few seconds ahead and checked my mileage. We were at about 43 to 44 miles and there was
one more aid station at mile 47. I
decided to risk rolling my tire off the rim and kept going. The berms and curves got a little interesting
and my legs started to feel the pace.
At mile 47 or so the singletrack ended on gravel road, and
the aid station was in sight. I shouted
for a pump, and the volunteers leapt into action. They finished putting air in my tire just as
MC came up and went by me. I jumped on,
and tore after her. Whereby we both
ended up racing into a dead end.
Classic, eh?
The course markings were a bit confusing to us so we worked
together to figure out where to go. We
turned around and started back to the aid station. MC spotted 2 riders just below the road and
we saw the trail entry.
We dropped into the trail and went after those two
racers. We passed them, and then MC and
I traded positions back and forth. My
legs were protesting. I blew by a
hairpin turn onto singletrack and MC called out to warn me. I turned and
followed her up, and further up another trail.
At mile 50 my legs had had enough. MC passed me, and when she did, she made it
count. I fought and suffered the last four miles on the gravel
and paved roads to the finish. I may
have passed a chicken coop but saw no sign of the chickens. They probably had the good sense to get in
the shade by that time of day.
Warm, sleepy baby chicks. |
Finally, after a turn onto the vineyard property, the black
finish archway appeared, and I was done.
Later, sitting in pool near the finish line and feeling more
coherent, I looked around and saw happy, tired racers enjoying the post race
food, camaraderie, and sharing that blissful feeling of having spent a good day
in the woods. It was an awesome day
racing with teammates and friends. And
next time I'll have that chicken for dinner.
Thanks Coach Chad for your coaching, and
Infinit for your reliable nutrition. Thanks also to Eddie O’Dea for organizing the FoolsGold event.
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