Welcome to Northern California...
Waking up early Saturday morning to pounding sheets of rain I knew it was going to be a long day at the LaGrange Fall Classic and this year's one day California State Championship Cross-Country Mountain bike race. We watched the Super D finish the evening before on Friday and it didn't look too muddy. During the afternoon clearing, I convinced myself that the 23 mile loop would be semi-rideable. There wasn't too much preriding to be had so I didn't feel like I missed much showing up a day after the rest of the team.
By 7 a.m. the clouds were breaking and starting to warm the snow capped mountains of the Trinity Alps. I went on a morning errand run to get some waterproof Band-Aids to cover my newly sutureless shin from the week priors' single speed training ride misfortune. It was brisk but an absolutely beautiful 37 degrees; with my last minute planning and departure I had forgot my team Platinum raincoat and my stocking cap. I drove up to register at the High School and was happy to see they were registering indoors.
Back to the room at the 49er Motel to eat some more breakfast and start getting dressed. Andy Osborne provided the Pam cooking spray to get Bicycle Bobs' bright green Specialized Epic that Roger had let me demo from the shop floor its final mud resistance treatment. By this time it was up to 42 degrees. I decided to warm up in the motel room and get stretched out instead of getting out into the cold/wet on the bike.
By 10 o'clock most people were at the parking lot Start/Finish getting instructions for the mass start. National Champion Bob Blatner (Bikes4life) came charging up the hill in his Porsche Cayenne with his number plate precariously dangling off his bike still on the hitch rack. Some derailleur breakage had forced last minute repairs and parts swap, brake trouble would strike 15 minutes later during his starting time. Sic Vic, the race coordinator from Team Bigfoot, gave his final instructions and pep talk about the views of Shasta from the top of the course and "avoidable mud puddles." We followed him up to the improvised start line to avoid the "worst clay we would probably encounter" behind the baseball field. A few single speeders were still getting their last articles of clothing situated and a pony tailed mountain unicyclist brought up the back of the group of riders as we climbed to the intermediate start point, I chatted with Terry Dahl about the potential competitor in his group, he joked that if Bob Blatner started a half hour back he might have a chance to be the top 60-plus rider.
There were a wide variety of clothing choices from plastic rain slickers over fleece jackets in the experts, to long sleeved 100% cotton tee shirts in the beginners, and a one-piece short sleeve skin suit worn by a 2007 California/Nevada State Series Champion.
Sic Vic gave the countdown to the pro/experts and the whole group shot off up the fire road at full tilt. I watched as Platinum team members Andy Osburn, Todd Booth, Terry Dahl, Peter Gilberd, and a single speeding Ryan Booth shrunk into the distance as they pulled the front of the pack up the fire road and disappeared around the first corner. A minute went by and we were off in the sport class. There were no leg marks for this race because they would have quickly mudded over by the time the singletrack came. Not knowing who was in my class I first looked around for the big guys and only saw Brad Jellison of the Chicken Ranch crew who looked like he might be near Clydesdale weight but not in my age group. Not wanting to crush myself off the start trying to keep up with the rest of the fast riding sport class I figured who better to set my pace than the Cal/Nev State Champ singlet in my mass start group. We both sped up to pass a few last people before the singletrack started up Garden Gulch Trail. I could see a few Humbolt State University jerseys pop in and our of view up the trail as more riders were slowed by a creeping realization that there wasn't a perfect tire choice for these conditions. Passing was tricky on the slimy trail bed when we reached Howie Ridge. A few miles later on Jackass Ridge Trail the young Champ mis-shifted after being stuck behind a walking rider on a short steep section and had to step off his bike. I squealed on my brakes, he must have felt like I was riding him for a while or thought my momentum could carry me up the pitch because he directed me between himself and the walker and I jumped off and ran up between the two never to see them again.
Variegated fallen tree leaves with vibrant autumnal colors mixed with pine needles made the edges of the trail the place with the most traction; especially after sliding out there from the middle mud of the trail. I settled into the group ahead of me and we winded around the singletrack. Suddenly I saw a familiar face walking toward me the wrong way down the trail. Captain and team director Todd Booth had a dejected look on his face. I silently prayed, hoping the one time Todd had trusted his bike to someone other than home mechanic Don Mach hadn't caused a catastrophic mechanical, costing Todd the state title. Todd muttered about a sidewall tear/blowout in his rear tire as I spun past.
As Sic Vic promised at the start, the Rudy Project eyewear was getting more caked with mud and useless to see through by the minute and had to be abandoned to the jersey pocket. We descended some slippery switchbacks down Rainbow Hansen Trail and an abandon bike sat off to the side. As I pulled my front tire up onto a long footbridge, the bike's fallen owner was being cared for by one of the course marshals. As we climbed toward the crossing of East Weaver Road more people were walking down to help the rider.
I grinded up Musser Hill Spur. A sketchy short steep downhill section followed by a U-turn and a long treacherous hike-a-bike-slip-n-slide section back up the same hill around Musser. It was a daunting start to the seemingly never ending altitude gain of Musser Hill and for me the hardest part of the race. My legs felt buried in thick wet concrete as the extra pounds of mud continued to cake on the bike. I stopped and raised my seat only to have it slowly sink little by little over the next 10 minutes. Taking a much needed short stretch break, I tightened the seat post quick-release skewer with my Allen wrench and raised it back up. Remounting, I bunny hopped and slammed the bike, over and over, trying with limited success to shed as much extra mud weight as possible; reminding myself that I should have used more Pam.
There was no traction to be had on many of the steeper fire road pitches as many like myself were forced to dismount and trudge up the steeper, slippery slopes. Finally some decomposed granite that was hard packed and well drained relieved the pain of the climb as vistas of the snow capped peaks above the course came into view in front of us as I traded positions a few times with a fully rigid steel 29'er single speed.
Beautiful sections of flume trail relieved what seemed like hours of climbing, signifying that most of the 2200 feet of elevation gain was finished. The first creek crossing I thought I could clean, but I went over the bars and landed in the sub 40-degree snow melted water. Figuring now since my hands and feet were soaked with near freezing cold water I might as well take some time to wash off the mud coated bike as best as possible.
Most of the LaGrange Ditch was some of the best riding of the whole race. A narrow ribbon of well-drained gravely singletrack teetered above the carved ditch used for mining in the 1850's.
The flats and downhill felt slow once off the flume ditch, with my bike sinking into the soft surface. It felt like it was going to slide out from under me around every corner coming down the new singletrack section of the Day Ranch Trail. The trail had definitely dried out descending Jackass Ridge, riding in reverse what we had first climbed out of earlier. It was a nice downhill fast finish back into the high school parking lot as my pull tag was removed at 3:03. Most of the Platinum Crew was already finished, cleaned up, and changed into fresh clothes and rehashing the harsh conditions and misfortunes along with the epic sections in a huddle near the finish line. I rolled up and Ryan asked how I did. I said, "I finished." Just happy to still be upright and have the locker room showers warmed up ready to bring my extremities back up to my core temperature.
On the drive out of the mountains to Redding it became apparent why the Trinity Alps are a destination, as Mt. Shasta and Mt. Lassen tried to peek out from behind their cloud veils and sprinkles of Aspen trees highlighted the hillsides. The 1200 mile journey and 23 miles of racing along a rain hammered muddy course seemed to be an unlikely combination for a good time but the camaraderie of teammates and the open road was certainly a fall classic for me.
A big thank you to Platinum Performance, Elite Performance rehabilitation, Roger at Bicycle Bobs, Dr. Steve Birch, my teammates, and all the other sponsors who made it possible to come back from knee surgery in January and ride the State Finals Race in October.
Fresh California State Clydesdale 34-and-under State Champion Luke Werkhoven.