Rock 1 was cold, but relatively dry and easy to maneuver. My start wasn't as great as my husband's signature move, but my front-line start position served me well by keeping me in the top ten from the start. We wove through the twists and turns and found ourselves at the first double-barrier. I was in 4th but made a quick move into 3rd, dodging the junior riders as I sprinted after my rabbit, the ever-strong Kris Brazil. I was hot on her heals up the notorious Mount Krumpet on the first lap, but sadly watched her and the 1st place Iowa native ride away from me effortlessly as they bombed the following downhill. (With a slight flare up in the vertebrae in my neck, my hand control was hindered and so was my invincibility, so I took it smart and controlled)
Somewhere in the next lap, my teammate, Amy, came around me and I cheered for her to chase the women I couldn't catch. I managed to hold that position, finishing in 4th behind Amy, with our other teammate, Dana, close behind in 6th. It was an awesome day for the hellions....3 top 10 finishes! It was killa!
Jay, sadly, wasn't feelin it as much so his race was tough. He still finished top 15, though, so I was super proud of his racing. Like always, we kicked it on top of Mt. Krumpet for the afternoon, swilling barley sodas w/ the locals as we heckled and cheered the racers.
Rock 2 was another story.... after the previous day's 7 hours of racing, the ruts had made their mark. Top that off with an all-night snow and temps that hovered right around freezing, the day's races were going to be epic.... no matter how hard I try to stray from the over-used phrase.
Dana, Amy, and I were to be the first racers of the day. We arrived early, Jay laying down the first tracks in the snow as I layered up and let my mind go blank. Once on my bike, I was in the zone.... it was the same place I was in before the state championship this year... There were no thoughts. The only sound outside my body was my bike and my quiet breaths. Inside, quiet echoes of songs in my Ipod rattled inside my head, creating a soundtrack to the elements of the course. I was sliding out like crazy at half speed and knew I was in for a major challenge - this was going to be the most inclement race to date for me, and the calm atmosphere within me let me know I was ready.
After a few warm-up laps, I toed the line as the snow dampened my glasses. Aside from anything I could have imagined, I captured the hole shot instantly and lead out through the first twists and turns. The previous day's winner passed me on a slippery left hand curve as my rear wheel slid out. I could hear Dana repeating "you're alright"... my bike steadied itself instantly. Dana, the most awesome mtn biker, came around me and I tried to stick with her over the double barrier. At the run up, I passed her as some issue stopped her at the top and took my place in second. We rode down a slippery off-camber down hill as the falling snow melted on the now exposed mud and ruts. With my hands wrapped tightly around my drops (and far from my breaks) I bombed the short drop to try and catch the leader some 20 yds in front of me. We were on a long straight away I'd ridden 3 times earlier and knew my line. I punched it into one of my hardest gears in an attempt to get on her wheel before the next twists and turns came.
Somewhere beneath the freshly fallen snow, a sideways rut was hiding. I hit it with my front wheel at full speed, twisting it instantly, and throwing me over the bars violently. As I went head first into the snowy ditch, the right side of my rib cage caught my right break lever and bent it almost 45 degrees. Disoriented, I tried to figure out what was going on. I heard Dana scream to find out if I was okay... I reassured her as best I could and urged her to chase down the leader. I forced myself up and checked to see if I could feel any broken bones. Two more riders passed. Although my side hurt, a couple deep breaths didn't seem to aggravate the matter, so I began to run and remount my steed.
