Attitude

Hauling a fully mud coated mtb through a two foot deep crater of peanut butter mud, slipping and falling into a tree: one skinned forearm. Riding downhill on muddy trail with tires that refuse to shed mud and sliding into a tree: one bruised hip and shoulder. Slipping on snotty mud in the hike-a-bike section and slamming pedal into shin: one huge purple welt. Plunging down a super steep, slick gravel covered hill (a.k.a. The Gravity Cavity) and hitting the sandy bridge at the bottom at 30 mph, not once but three times, unscathed(!): priceless.

All week I had been debating whether to race at Mt. Snow (good preview and practice for Nationals), go to Moody Park (less technical, less chance of getting all bruised and battered), or simply not race the weekend. The latter really wasn't a choice. I needed to get out there especially after missing last weekend at Putney. The forecast called for scattered showers which meant a decent possibility that conditions at Mt. Snow would be treacherous. I've already seen Mt. Snow in those conditions. It's not pretty. I didn't want to push my luck.

So plan B, Moody Park. I'd heard the course was fast, not very technical and very fun. Sounded like a perfect confidence builder and made more sense than beating the living daylights out of my ego and my body at Mt. Snow. Plus, the race started at 10am instead of 2pm. Done deal. Little did I know that torrential downpours Saturday night and Sunday morning actually made it more of an epic mud fest but I'm getting ahead of myself.

On the road by 6am, I drove north under a low ceiling of grey skies and fog. Ninety minutes later I exited the highway almost on the NH/VT border and the skies opened up. Thunder, lightning, and rain so hard the wipers on high couldn't clear the windshield fast enough. By the time I reached the race site, the rain had stopped but the skies still looked threatening. Decided I'd at least go out and pre-ride a lap just in case the storms started up again and they cancelled the race. Didn't want to have driven all that way for nothing.

I could see how the course could be described as fast and fun. When dry. And it was anything but. The first 1/4 mile was fast, relatively dry double track. Good passing opportunities. Then there was a muddy, rocky, wet root covered uphill grind. Momentum was definitely your friend through this section since if you had to touch down, getting started was difficult at best and in some spots downright impossible. Next there was a twisty, flowy downhill but the ride was broken up by sections of impossible to ride mud holes. Next, another uphill section (dry-ish), that soon flattened out to another fast double track section leading up to the Gravity Cavity (which I never successfully rode up the other side). Next, across the road and into another uphill mud fest that they tried to make easier by putting some wooden pallets out there. I think it only made it worse. Then a muddy, twisty downhill again broken up with sections of unridable areas filled with a mixture of rocks, roots, and more thick, nasty mud. Finally, the downhill would dump you out on the finish line. Whew.

By the time my race went off at 10:30, the sun was attempting to burn through the clouds. I started thinking perhaps we'd luck out and things would dry out a bit. I didn't quite get the effect I was hoping for. The thin runny muddy did indeed start to dry but that just meant that by my third lap, the mud was the consistency of peanut butter.

At the gun, I punched it since I figured I didn't want to be stuck behind the pack on the muddy, uphill grind. I was third into the woods and passed one woman in the first mud bog. Hit the uphill in second and toward the top of the hill was passed by another woman. And that's how it stayed pretty much for the rest of the race. I tried to catch the woman who passed me (thought she was in my age group but turns out she wasn't). By the second lap, I was starting to get tired. Hauling my bike through some of those muddy sections just wasn't fun and in fact, I think the bike weighed an extra 10 lbs due to the layer of mud/leaves/crap clinging to it.

And then it happened: at the start of the third lap, I had about reached my limit. I'm standing up to my knees in mud, trying to step forward and drag my bike (more like a boat anchor) through that energy sucking quicksand when I had a mental meltdown. @#$%^&*( piece of &^%^$#! *&^&^%%$$!!!!! %^&^*&((!!! I lost my grip on the bike, it tipped over to the right, I slid to the left and found myself sitting in that 2ft deep mud. And I just stopped for a few seconds. I sat there. I looked around. No one. And then I just started laughing. Crazy woman sitting in the mud laughing. Wiped my hands, shook it off, reminded myself that the real reason I do this is to have fun. And really, when else do you have a reason to go roll around in the mud, get filthy. I hopped back on and rode better than I rode all day. Attitude change. Instead of fighting the trail, getting angry, feeling frustrated, I threw myself into it. There was still an intensity there but it was more like, "OMG! I want to ride this better/faster/smoother! I own you!" Ditched that downward spiral of bad brain chatter. Only drawback: smiling while riding leads to more mud in teeth. ;-) Finished 1st in the Sport Masters Woman division which earned me a nice jug of NH maple syrup. Can you say more waffles! :)

Afterwards, there was no bike wash. I cleaned up best I could which really isn't saying much. The bike went on the car still coated with goop - chunks of which flew off at highway speeds. It also elicited lots of comments at Dunkin' Donuts in Warner where I stopped to load up on ice coffee and gas. Seems like everyone wanted to know what it was like to go play in the mud. Wicked fun. Only one serious drawback. I noticed later that the damn mud sucked the nail polish right off my toes. There goes my pedicure. Grrrrr....