2007 Cross Crusade #7: Series Finale - Hillsboro Stadium

Cross Crusade #7:

Series Finale - Hillsboro Stadium

Hillsboro, Oregon

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Chapter 1:

To Pee or not to Pee

Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it. For weeks I’ve been racing cyclocross in warm, sunny, dry conditions, all a while hearing stories of what cyclocross is really about. The cold, the rain, the mud, the thick goo… We’re now down to the last race of the series and so far have not yet seen true cyclocross conditions. I want to play in the mud and rain, I wished, just like when I was a kid, only now I wouldn't have to answer to mom when I come home.

I arrived in Portland the day before to meet up with some friends for dinner. It was raining, it had been raining, and it was going keep raining. Race day I awoke to... yep, more rain. My wipers were working overtime as me and a friend made our journey to Hillsboro Stadium. After arriving I suited up to take a few warm up laps before my event. This actually made me colder so I road back to my car, got in and turned up the heat. After my "warm up" and a quick stop at the port-o-let I arrived at the start line with a second row starting position after the call-ups. 20 minutes to start and I was already getting cold. Running in place... jumping jacks... whatever I could do to stay warm.

The race start was approaching and my nerves were starting to get the best of me. Do I wear sunglasses to protect the eyes, would they get coated with mud and not allow me to see? I decided against the glasses as so did the majority of the group. I now had to pee again. Still cold, jumping up and down and having to pee. Not a good combination. This could be easily remedied I thought, I mean, I was already wet -- right????.....

Chapter 2:

Ryan vs. the Barriers

Bang! The start was a long strait stretch of paved parking lot. Plenty of room to get a good position in the lead pack. Now wishing I had my sunglasses I could not get a good draft due to the spray of road grime in my eyes forcing me to ride on the outside. A hard left turn forced a realization the it actually was slick out there as my rear tire slid out, slingshotting me from the inside of the turn to the outside. Staying up right I continued to power on. A right turn brought us to our first mud bog. Ok, not so bad, a little sticky but ridable. Up on a flat and fast dirt road now. Grime flinging in my eyes, I could hardly see; constantly blinking. My left eye temporarily out of commission as my contact sifts due to the overpowering grime. Now riding with one good eye, I see our first set of barriers approaching. My dismount was too late. I blame this on having no depth perception as a result of mud in my eye. As I leap one direction over the first barrier my bike slams into it forcing it in the other. I'm now a human mobile with bike, arms and legs flailing every which direction as I do my best to stay upright and not fall on the second barrier. Left foot, knee, right foot, twist, step, reach, hand, left, right, left, right... remount, pedal, pedal, pedal... whew, that was close!

Chapter 3:

Mud

The dirt road now turns to another mud bog. This time there is a deep puddle leading into the thick goo. I think I can ride it. Nope! Stopped dead in my tracks. Note to self: Run this next time. The spectators that have congregated to this spot are now screaming "run! run!" I'm now running, slightly up hill in thick goo, hoping not to loose my shoes. Man, this crap goes on for ever. After leveling off, I get tired of running in goo and remount to make an effort at riding it. The crowd is now yelling "ride! ride!" It is ridable, though not much faster than the guys running next to me. The goo clears and I get back up to speed for a bit before dropping back into it again. Front wheel turning this way and that, just trying not to run off course into the course markers. Another set of barriers forces a dismount and run up a short hill. Remount fine, clipping in, not so fine. I spent precious seconds smacking my foot against the peddles to try to clear the twigs and grime from my cleat. Once clipped back in, down we go again into a quick off camber visit to the mud. Down I go, over the handlebars flat on my back. Note to self: avoid the big hole.

Chapter 4:

More Mud

I peel myself up out the mud, grab my bike and start running. It's official now, I'm dirty. After a short hill it was back to high ground, remount, shake the cleats clean, clip in and go. Gloves and handlebars are now lathered with mud making it difficult to get a secure hold as my hands slip all over the bars. A sharp right hand turn back into the screaming crowd to a slightly down hill mud bog that paralleled the previous stretch I was forced to run. My favorite spot. Apparently JohnnyG's favorite too, and it's no wonder. It was a downhill slippery slide roller coaster that landed you right in a giant mud puddle on a hard left turn. Powering though the giant puddle at the bottom, I cleared it. Throwing rocks and mud from my rear wheel trying to keep forward motion and it was back to pavement for the final stretch of the first lap.

Chapter 5:

Lots More Mud

My hands now are very cold and am having difficulty holding on to the bars. The second lap was better than the first as I stayed up right and remembered some of the tricky sections from the first although each successive lap seemed to get more sloppy than the previous. Mud continued to fly. My eyes seemed to catch most of it as I was really struggling to see. Blink blink - clear - blink, blink - blur. The mud in my eyes felt like sand paper, it was really starting to hurt now. "Ok, one more lap, you can hold out for one more lap." I could really start to feel the weight of the mud and grime collecting in my cloths, my bike and my shoes. I thought to myself: "how was I ever going to get them clean again?" ...Ok, not really.

Four laps total and finished in 17th. Just squeaking in under the 18 limit for points earning. It was now time to clean up and head home. Cleaning up was not quite as successful or rewarding as I has forgotten my solar shower at home. I wiped what I could with a small towel and hid the rest with my street cloths.

Results for Men B: http://app.obra.org/results/2007/Cyclocross/6467#race_90349
Video: http://www.crosscrusade.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=1523&PN=1

All in all, a great series with plenty of friends and co-racers for support and company. Thank for reading and for all your encouragement.

Happy Holidays!

Your humble race reporter,
Ryan Brown

2007 Cross Crusade #6: Estacada Timber Park

Race Report
Cross Crusade #6: Estacada Timber Park
Estacada, Oregon
Sunday, November 11

Cross Crusade #6???  What happened to 4 and 5 (for those of you keeping track)?  Well, #4, Astoria, I was out with the flu and Barton Park was the same weekend as one of our mountain bike events held in Echo, OR; couldn’t miss that.  Plus, I was getting a little burnt out on driving to Portland every weekend.

Fully recharged and ready to hit the cx scene again, JohnnyG, Brian and I left the Tri-Cities last Sunday morning to attend Oregon’s 6th cyclocross race in the Cross Crusade series (www.crosscrusade.com).  Brian would be racing first at 10:00 am, John at 11:00 then finally I would race at noon.  In order to make Brian’s race start we had to leave super early.  We realized this as we pulled into Starbucks’ parking lot only to find a dark, deserted building leaving us with a dark, deserted pit in our stomachs.  Luckily I had brought a thermos of coffee from home.  At this point I was hesitant to reveal it in fear of being attacked but I decided as being the driver it was medically necessary in order to arrive at the venue safe and on time.  …that was my defense and I was sticking to it!  Stopping in Hood River along the way relief was in sight.  We arrived at a brightly lit Starbucks with many happy baristas ready to take our order.  Things were looking up.  Already having my coffee I went across the street to grab breakfast at McDonalds.  The Deluxe Breakfast consists of 3 pancakes, 2 scrambled eggs, 1 biscuit, 1 sausage and a hash brown (a pre-race meal adopted from a fellow triathlete friend of mine).

Brian was the first one to race in the Men's C category.  Remembering his last experience at Horning's Hideout he decided to forgo the warm-up lap and jump strait into the race cold.  A pre ride of the course wasn't going to keep him from racing this time.  Still recovering from a dislocated finger immobilized in a brace, 4 laps and a middle of the pack finish and injury free, Brian was happy.  John was next up in the Masters B 35+ category.  5 laps and dropping to a 10 place finish, this was not quite what he had hoped for especially after a strong 2nd place finish at Alpenrose.  Still a great finish in my book.

12:00 pm:  it was now my turn.  After a 30 minute warm-up I was the first to arrived at the start line.  I wasn't going to get a bad start this time.  Front tire on the start line; the race director announces "one minute to start."  Bang!  Struggling to get clipped into my peddle, I immediately fall back several places.  Not quite the start I had hopped for.  Riders swerving this way and that, all I could do was ride safe and avoid getting my front wheel clipped thus falling back several more places.  After making the first right turn I realized just how muddy and slippery the course was going to be.  The sun was out and it was warm but the previous days of nonstop raining had turned the course into a true cyclocross mud fest.  The first lap revealed a relatively flat course with many turns, a couple of them way off camber and a few steep descents and hills.  The conditions were muddy and slippery but the new Michelin Mud 2s really gripped well.  The off camber corners needed to be approached with caution.  Just at the crest of the first big decent was a structure reminiscent of my childhood days.  It was about 4 feet wide, 3 feet long, about a foot high in the back and tapered off to a point that met the ground in the front.  Wee!!!  I launched of that sucker with grace and style.  I felt like I was in the air for an eternity.  I must have caught a 3 feet of air! ...and every lap after that.  I was a kid again.  Later on the course was a narrow slippery bridge that exited to a sharp left causing a bottle neck every lap.  The last climb would have been ridable under dry conditions, but alas, these weren't dry conditions.  This was Portland and it was cross season.  I would get half way up thinking I could ride it when my rear wheel would just start spinning forcing a dismount to run the rest.  The remount was a struggle after clogging my cleats with grass and mud.  It would be several yards before getting clipped back in.  And just after fighting that battle.  It was time to dismount again...  The infamous "6 pack" of barriers were back.  I haven't seen these since Alpenrose.  The approach to the barriers was a muddy gooey mess on a 180 degree turn forcing a early dismount.  Again, after running the barriers, the remount was a struggle, this time standing trying to force the cleat through the grass and mud stuck to the bottom of my shoe.  The first lap was flawless, so the next lap I decided to pick it up a notch on some of the corners.  Not 30 seconds into the second lap I was pealing myself up out of the mud.  My entire left side was covered in mud and I had a tweaked the left shifter; also caked with grass and mud.

After a quick remount, systems check and loosing another few places, everything was operational and off I went.  I was now behind this guy with obnoxious red socks that covered his entire lower leg.  I don't know why but I had to beat him.  At this point a top finish was out of the question and I needed a target.  He and I were back and forth for the next 2 laps.  He definitely had better handling skill than I.  Every lap would pan out like this:  He would gain some ground on the twisty section through the trees.  I would catch and pass him on the strait flat sections and a few of the shallow climbs on the other end of the course.  He would then regain his led on the final descent that led directly into the final steep climb just before the finish line.  He was able to ride this climb but I was force to run it every time.  The final lap was no different than any other except we were both giving it everything we had.  I was ahead, and had some ground on the red socks guy going into the bridge.  Making the final descent, I picked a wide line to get some speed going into the hill.  I got halfway up before I couldn't go any further.  A flash of red caught my eye.  I quickly dismounted and started running but it was no use.  He had already passed me and was still on his bike making his way to the top.  ...but wait, trying to maneuver around another racer he got cut off and was forced to dismount.  As he and the other racer were struggling to get off their bikes and start running I put the hammer down and sprinted up the hill giving it everything I had.  All a while people screaming and cow bells clangin' to help us up that last hill and on to the finish.  Quickly remounting, I powered through the last 20 yards in a dead sprint to the finish; beating Mr. Red Socks Guy and leaving with sense of accomplishment.  I finished pretty consistent with my previous races in 16th place out of 80 or so riders.  (Results: http://app.obra.org/results/event/6466#race_89069) Definitely my favorite course so far.  It was now time to shed the muddy clothes, remount the buddy bikes atop my car (now muddy) and exchange tall tells of our glorious victories as way make our journey home.  Up next, the series finale at Hillsboro Stadium.  Double the points, triple the mud, quadruple the fun!

‘Til next time, your humble race reporter,

Ryan Brown

"The 6-Pack"

2007 Cross Crusade #3: Rainier High School

Race Report

Cross Crusade #3: Rainier High School

Rainier, Oregon

Sunday, October 21

If last week was a journey to the ol’ south down in the bayou, this week was a drive to the early nineties to a high school that sat atop a hillside that brought memories of football rivalries and homecoming celebrations.

Rainier High School is located on top of Rainier Hill just 30 minutes north of Vancouver, WA.  It is vary pretty this time of year with all the fall colors coming out and glistening from the previous day’s rain storm.

I arrived a day early to meet up with some friends in Vancouver for dinner.  The drive past Hood River was nerve-racking as the rain fell in sheets and covered the freeway.  Wipers at full tempo and knuckles white with a death grip that could crush a rock (not really, but that’s what it felt like), it took a few seconds after I stopped just to relax enough to let go.  My friends were very hospitable as I was given a warm bed, allowed me to sleep in and fed a gourmet bagel breakfast sandwich and tasty coffee in the morning.  I had everything I needed for a great race that day.

Arriving at the venue a few hours before the start of my category, cars packed into every nook and cranny, racers huddled under their tents on trainers warming up for their event and bikers riding this way and that, I instantly felt at home or at least amongst a familiar setting.  It took some searching to find a place to park but after a few minutes we found a spot high above the high school and race course.

I suited up to take a practice lap to check out the course as my friend Lori (who has never been to a cyclocross event before) ventured out the see what all the fuss was about.  She saw folks on road bikes riding through the grass and mud like little children who found a mud puddle and didn’t care what mom was going to think.  There were friends and family members, boys and girls; screaming, taunting spectators shaking loud cowbells; bikes of all shapes and sizes.  There were burgers grillin’ up at the start line, Belgian waffles cookin’ at the finish and on top of that a scent pure fun and excitement saturated the air.

As Lori was out soakin’ up the good times I road a practice lap.  The course started out with a climb from the starting line, up past the vendor/expo area and finish line on a paved road to a dirt path that followed the north end of the school property.  The path was wet and slippery but solid.  The path quickly took a left to descended parallel the road we drove up leading up to the high school.  It was interrupted with many root forcing me to stay out of the saddle.  A hard left at the bottom connected with a gravel road for a brief moment and quickly turned right onto some grass above a football field.  An off camber right into an ‘S’ turn around a large tree would spell doom for those coming in to fast.  Another decent down into the football field, behind the goal post and onto the track for a 200 meter sprint to the first run up  (which was very rideable if kept to the outside away from the slippery center).  A quick 180 at the top, back to the track for a quick 100m then a left into the mud bogs.  This was about a 300 meter stretch of pure muck along side the soccer field.  Riding it was questionable as every peddle stroke spun the rear tire as the front sank deeper and deeper.  Now that my tires were 4 lbs heaver with no traction the course headed off into the woods.  Here there were tight twists and turns on a greasy dirt path with a couple of steep climbs that forced a run up because traction was non-existent.  A quick remount at the top and a short flat paved section to spin off the mud a regain traction it was a quick left turn decent into the “sand pit.”  This was a short section of the course that brought us past the jungle gym through deep sand where steering wasn’t an option.  Just like in that game with the ball you drop at the top of an angled surface with several pins hoping it exits the bottom on the big prize slot...  Here, pick a good line at the start of the sand pit and hope you came out somewhere in the middle on the other side and not into the slide on the left or the tree on the right.  After the pit was a hard left, through a set of swings and back into the trees before spitting you back out onto the soccer field.  A wide sweeping right arc though the grass to get up to speed brought you to a 200 meter climb back to the finish.  Fortunately no berries but plenty of slick hills that forced plenty of dismounts.

I arrived at the start early to secure a good position only to be forced to a third row start after the single speed division and the call-ups of my division worked their way to the front.  The whistle blew and we were off for 45 minutes of pure hell.  Five laps later, no technical issues, and staying upright, I had a good race and, down one spot from last week, finished 16th out of 77 Man B riders.

A quick shower, dinner and a short drive I was back home already planning the next adventure which will be held in Astoria, OR (filming location for the hit 80’s movie The Goonies) this weekend for the 4th event of the Cross Crusade series.

‘Til next time, your humble race reporter,

Ryan Brown

2007 Cross Crusade #2: Horning’s Hideout

Race Report

Cross Crusade #2: Horning’s Hideout

North Plains, Oregon

Sunday, October 14

The fog was thick and fluid, the morning sunlight fighting to be seen through the trees; we motored down a narrow dirt road.  Winding around trees and marsh it was a seen reminiscent of Deliverance.  In fact, I think I heard dueling banjos playing in the background.  Wait a minute, it was Dueling Banjos.  Just for fun (after getting a heads up from a fellow crosser that had been here before) I had downloaded Dueling Banjos from the soundtrack Deliverance to my iPod and started it just as we entered the decent into Horning’s Hideout.  It fit perfectly! :^)

Brian Schur and I had left town Sunday morning at 4:00 am to arrive in time for his cyclocross race start at 10:00 am (mine was at noon).  Arriving a few hours early, we had plenty of time to get Brian registered and take a few practice/warm-up laps before his start.  One lap revealed a dry, twisty course with lots of off camber turns and little opportunity for speed.  Constantly braking to avoid sliding out and short steep hills required changing gears often.  There was lots of single track with some grass and gravel road (loose gravel), only two run-ups and one set of barriers; everything else was rideable.

Finishing our first lap and a short discussion about strategy we hit it again.  This time pushing the limits to see where we could make time; power sliding through corners, attempted to “ride” the run-ups, and looking for the perfect line on the descents; it was flawless.  On a distant off-camber left turn that brought you into it from a slight down-hill grassy area on to a gravel road with a lake just feet from the edge, it required finesse and the perfect amount of breaking to survive the turn.  I made it.  Brian, right behind me, was not as fortunate.  Feeling a little too secure about the corner he came in to fast.  Not able to go wide to correct for his speed he was forced to wash out.  He went down hard scraping up his knee and shoulder.  After a quick inventory of “what works and what don’t” he felt a numbing sensation underneath his full fingered gloves.  Removing his left glove revealed a finger that was not like the others.  All he could do is laugh and say “hey Ryan, you got to check this out!”  A quick glance at his had showed a dislocated pinky finger.  “Well, are you going to pull it back into place” I asked?  A quick tug and we were back in business; so we thought.  Every time he tried to make a fist it would “pop” back out again.  “This is not good” he said.  A nearby paramedic was on the scene quickly had a splint in place and sent us on our way.  Brian got his entry forwarded to another race and was now just along for the ride.

A few hours later, Brian now officially labeled as Ryan’s support crew/camera man; I was making my last few warm up loops around a small hillside surrounding the start line.  I noticed a few riders starting to line up.  I quickly headed down to secure a nice 2nd row starting position.  I immediately flagged down my “support crew” to bring me some water to wash down a gel.  A quick thumbs up to my “support crew” indicated I was good to go.

As we neared the start time the race director informed us he was going to call up the top 15 riders from last week’s event.  Well, I was 13th overall last week so this would mean a front row start.  …not quite.  By the time I was called up, the front line was already full and I was back in the second row again.  Oh well, such is life.

Ok, now I’m getting nervous.  A quick glance to spot my “camera man” I quickly made a few goofy poses at him to try and shrug off the butterflies and remind myself it’s all about having a good time.

Lap 1:  The sun was now shining brightly and the air temp was a comfortable 60 deg.  A calm covered the crowd and now I’m staring strait at a 75 yard climb out of an outdoor amphitheater.  A few moments later the whistle blew and it was complete chaos as cow bells rang, spectators cheered and 80 riders in unison sprinted up the hill and made a hard left turn passed the expo area and a scent of Belgian waffles cookin' in the background.  ...Yum!  I was in about 20th position.  Moments later was a hard right going from gravel up an off-camber climb over an exposed root to a short single track section.  Needless to say this was a spot where many spectators congregated to taunt the fallen.  A few sharp turns revealed a strait stretch to gain some momentum into our first grassy section.  It started with a fast bumpy descent.  Coming in hot I just relaxed the arms and legs and let the bike take the beating.  Needing to get around several I was forced to the not-so-traveled area resulting in even harder conditions. ...I felt my jaw starting to rattle so bad I though it was going to fall off.  A quick break, hard off-camber right then, oh no, crash corner!  Getting into the drops, lowering my center of gravity and hugging the cones, I picked the largest arc through the corner as I could.  Whew!  Still upright but barely scraping the edge of the gravel road; a few more feet and this might have turned into a triathlon.  Now it was back into the trees for some more single track.  A few rolling hills, a short fast section to pass a few more people, a hard 180 right hand turn to a steep steep descent followed by yet another off camber right onto a gravel road.  Don't think anyone actually turned on the road but took it wide and turned on the grass on the other side.  A quick climb to some more wooded single track, another off-camber, foot-down, left hand turn and back to some more jaw rattling rough grassy switch backs.  Our first run-up was an immediate hard right and about 20 yards in length up into the trees.  A quick remount at the top only to dismount again 50 yards later for our 2nd and final run up.  It consisted of two short stair-step style run ups.   I found this to be rideable on my practice loop but was to congested with people now to even attempt.  ...maybe next time.  More single track with a series of short leg burning climbs, another fast decent to a right turn on yet another gravel road, with one more long climb back to the expo area.  A right turn at the top was our final loop away from the expo that brought us to a sticky, slow-you-down, cry-to-your-mama muddy section.  A fast decent into another friggen off-camber sweeping turn.  Again, hugging the cones seemed to work for me.  It was a little more hard packed and less traveled there and my tires were gripping nicely thus allowing me to pass a few more riders.  A fast decent just before a set of two barriers forced me to lay on the breaks and skid into the dismount.  Hop, hop, a quick remount and 6 minutes later, I was off for another lap.

Lap 2: Pretty much the same thing... whoa, there's the root...  ... Fly down the rough grassy descent all the while my brain is being scrambled.  ...Uh oh, watch the "crash corner!"   ...huff it up the run-ups and... Oh no!  Stuck in my large front chain ring???  Un-clipping, I tap "gently" with my toe to see if I can shake it loose.  ...nothing!  There must be something wrong with the shifter.  I am now out of the saddle on the climbs grinding away in my large ring in the front and large ring in the back.  Folks passing me left and right as I give everything I have to keep enough momentum from turning the later hills into more run-ups.  ...hop, hop, clear the barriers, remount and go for lap 3...

Lap 3: Watch the root!  ...make up some places on the down hill trying not to get bounced off the bike.  ...power slide!  Scramble up the run-ups.  Force a grin for my camera man on the hills as I creep by, sweat now pouring down my face.  ...Hop, hop, remount and go...

Lap 4: Root! ...Rattle!  ...Move up a few positions. ...Slide!  ...Crawl!  ...Dig, dig, dig!  ...Loose a few positions.  ...Hop, hop, remount, repeat!

The laps now start ticking by... Lap 5 ...Lap 6  ...Lap 7.  Now at the end of the final lap, rounding the final bend into the barriers, I give it everything I've got.  Two other folks are right next to me; one in front and one behind.  Forced into the barriers on the outside, I take the barriers with force but it was no use.  Having the finish line only yards away from the barriers, no one bothered to remount as the three of us run it in for the finish.  I place 15th overall dropping two spots from last week.  Had yet another fun filled cx race with no injuries and managed to keep the rubber side down.  Lived to tell about it and race another day.

A quick bite to eat and it was time make the journey home.  Next stop: Rainier High School for event # 3 on October 21.

'Til next time...
Your humble race reporter,

Ryan Brown

2007 ross Crusade Event #1: Alpenrose Dairy, Portland

Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... HOP... Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... RUN!!!  Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... HOP HOP... Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... CRASH! Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... CLIMB... Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal... HOP HOP HOP HOP HOP HOP... Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal...  REPEAT... FINISH... KEEL OVER... EAT... GO HOME. :^)

2007 XTERRA USA National Championships

XTERRA USA
National Championships
Lake Tahoe, Nevada
September 30, 2007

Xterra Vashon Island, Xterra Mountain Championships, Xterra Wild Ride… Now Xterra USA. Earning enough points to not only qualify for Nationals but acquire the rank of Regional Champion in my age group, it was time. Cramming all as much gear and food in the back of

my car as I could, I departed for Lake Tahoe. Stocked up with enough Red Bull and beef jerky to feed an army, an 11 hour audio book (The Golden Compass) and the power of Text Messaging, I had everything I needed to make the 700 mile journey.

After splitting the drive up between two days, I arrived at the lake Friday afternoon to cold temperatures and high winds. Earlier that morning the winds and swells in the lake had capsized a boat.

The next morning I awoke to snow covered paths and freezing temperatures. Watching the Sport race (Xterra Nevada) held that day and how cold it was, I quickly scrambled to obtain a full wetsuit (as I had only brought a sleeveless) and some extra warm weather attire.

That night was the pre-race banquet, The Night of Champions, where awards and recognition were given out to athletes and staff. For example: Mr. Xterra, Xterra Ambassadors, top Points Series winners and the regional champions. It was an entertaining evening with speakers, videos and awards. I received the coveted 2007 Regional Champion bike jersey and a moment to show it off on stage (along with 100 or so others).

The night before the race, the temperatures, once again, dipped below freezing. Race morning was very chilly, although there was now snow this time, the skies were clear and the forecast called for warmer temperatures. Things were looking good.

As the start of the race crept up so did my nervousness. Being one of the first to arrive at the Hyatt Regency Beach, things were calm and quiet. One by one athletes started filling the beach until it was packed with hundreds of participants and spectators resembling a bowl of red and green gum balls with their brightly colored swim caps contrasting their black wetsuits.

After the national anthem and a quick warm up it was time to line the beach and prepare for the mass swim start. A lowed explosion of the canon and we were off. The first leg was a two loop, 1.5-kilometer swim in Lake Tahoe. There must have been a cold stream flowing into the lake nearby as temperatures near the beach were very cold but about 75 yards out the temps warmed up significantly and turned out to be very comfortable. After the first loop, athletes had to get out of the lake and run 50 yards or so long the beach before getting back into the lake for our last loop.

Triathlons usually consist of a swim, bike and run (in that order) and 2 transitions: one for the bike and one for the run. But today, it was more like a swim-run-bike-run with three transitions because the “run up” to the first official transition was a 1/2 mile journey passed some businesses, down a walk path, across the street, through a parking lot and finally to the bike racks. Most everyone left a pair of running shoes at the beach for this purpose which was, unofficially, my first transition with the 2nd and 3rd at the bike racks.

By the time I made it to the “swim/run to bike” transition my fingers and toes were cold making it very difficult to put on socks, shoes, gloves, arm warmers, etc... After spending minutes “suiting up” for the bike leg, I was off and, except for my toes, exceptionally warm.

The bike leg was a grueling 32-kilometer loop. Starting at 6200-feet above sea level, the first section of the bike course was a 1,600-foot climb up the sandy Tunnel Creek Road to the famous Flume Trail, a 4.5-mile section of single track known for its exposed crossings of sheer rock faces and incredible views of Lake Tahoe. The second leg of the bike course was the famous aspen lined route near Marlette Lake. It's a leg-burning climb to nearly 9,000-feet above sea level.

The return trip was a fast decent down twisty single track to Tunnel Creek Road and finally returning to the bike-to-run transition that seemed to last only minutes as average speeds were in the tear wrenching thirties.

The run was smooth, flat and, theoretically, fast. It was a 2 loop, 10-kilometer, single track rollercoaster. Twisting left and turning right and gradual ups and downs, the course kept you on your toes… literally. Quite a difference from the steep, uneven, rocky course in Utah a month and a half ago that nearly brought me to my knees. No, this course was different. Footing wasn’t an issue here, no, it was balance. Ducking under fallen trees and running along them length wise. One wrong move and it would be a 15-foot plunge into a creek below.

Starting the run, temperatures were now well into the 60s but my feet didn’t seem to care as they hadn’t warmed up from the swim. First, running felt like running on stumps because I had no feeling in my toes. Then, as they started to thaw the pins and needles feeling came and finally, the pain set in, like pliers crushing my toes. Luckily this didn’t last very long and neither did my energy. The altitude from the bike course must have affected me because the only thing I wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. It took everything I had to stay up right and keep moving. Every mile or so I was forced to walk to regain strength. This pretty much went on until I reached the finish line. I finished 9th/35 in my age group and 60th/353 overall.

A quick awards presentation/BBQ and dinner with my folks it was time for bed. Monday would come quickly and I had a long journey home the next day.

After a quick breakfast the next morning at the Hyatt, I hit the road. Finishing up my audio book, several text messages to keep me company and another 700 miles later, I was back home quickly in bed.

My First Cyclocross

My First Cyclocross

by

Ryan (Flyin’) Brown

(Mr. Limbaugh’s 3rd Grade English)

     I came to lying on the grass, facing a bright blue sky, my back wrenched with pain, mouth dry, teeth aching, lungs burning barely taking in oxygen.  “What has happened to me?” I though.  “What have I put myself through?”  Looking around I notice others as well, collapsed, gazing aimlessly about the surroundings.  Some holding their stomach as if ready to explode, others completely still.  “Dead?” I wondered.

     I hear music.  No, no, not the kind you might imagine at the pearly white gates, but rhythmic, dance club style.  I muster up some energy to sit up and try to assess the situation.  Noticing a small area where many people are trapped behind a fence.  “Are they drinking beer?”  There’s a huge banner to the right.  I rub my eyes and squint.  It reads “Finish.”  Interrupting my gaze, an announcer over a loud speaker hollers “It’s a ragin’ 7th annual Star-Crossed here at the Marymoor Velodrome, kickin’ off the 2007 cyclocross season as our top Cat 4 finishers make there way to the Finish...”

...

     It had only been about an hour earlier that I was riding warm up laps with John Limbaugh of Pasco, Brian Schur of Kennewick and Ivan Anderholm of Hermiston.  We had 10 minutes or so for one final warm up lap.  I had just received my new Trek X01 cross bike only 3 days earlier.  Still trying to dial in the rear derailleur as it had not been shifting well, my attention was not on the course ahead of me...  The next thing I notice was the beer garden to my left.  I quickly realized this is where they set up a set of barriers.  It was too late.  Quickly trying to unclip and dismount, I get one foot out and partially around the back of the bike when I slam into the first of two barriers.  The next thing I know I’m lying face down between the two barriers under my bike next to the beer garden.  Quite embarrassing!!!  “At least you got that out of the way.”  John chuckles as he grabs my right arm to help me up.  I dust myself off and continue on.

      The race director had earlier announced that start position would be based on assigned race number.  So, not in a rush to the start line of the Cat, 4’s race, I ride carefully not to make any more mistakes before my race.  Brian and I round the final bend to the start.  …and there they are all 88 or so of them all lined up ready to go.  We had arrived late and were forced to start at the back of the pack.  This was upsetting to me but would soon realize it to be an advantage of sorts.

     Lining up in the back of the pack, only 8 riders wide, spouting a few more colorful words under my breath about my start position, I notice Ivan not too far ahead of me.  The gun goes off and the leaders take off in an ALL OUT SPRINT.  Row by row the pack roles out.  I’m now really getting frustrated as I notice the leaders taking the first corner about 200 meters ahead and I’m just crossing the start line.  I give it EVERYTHING I’ve got.  Weaving through the cluster of bikers trying to make up some time.  I think being in the back and upset help my initial start as I gave more to try and catch the leaders than I would have had I started in a better position.

     After passing half the pack 200 meters later and a handful or so of enemies made, the first corner was a congested mess.  Slowing WAY down to avoid tangled aluminum and rubber, I negotiate the piles of riders down; I make the first corner unharmed.  Passing another 10 or so through the corner the course opens up and I let’er rip!

     The weather was, well, perfect.  Perfect by Tri-City standards.  Sunny, calm and warm.  Although, from what I hear, this is not ideal cyclocross weather.  According to seasoned veterans, cyclocross weather is wet, cold, and well, miserable.  Perfect for cyclocrossing.  So today truly made for a fast, fast course.  The course was a mix of grass, pavement, short climbs up the back side of the velodrome and 2 sets of berriers; one forcing a short run-up and the other in front of the beer garden for the fans.  The grassy area was hard and rough.  I believe they may have an issue with gophers or something because there were plenty of holes dug in the grass that made sitting nearly impossible.

     One by one I start picking them off.  After the first couple of lap and no crashes, I hear John Limbaugh on the side lines, warming up for his cat to start right after ours, hollering out “your in the top 10! Keep it up!”  “Ok,” I thought, “let’s keep giving everything and see what you can do.”  Every few laps, I here the announcer mention my name and how I’m working my way up the pack from dead last.  This, of course, adds motivation to my efforts and I dig deeper to tap every bit of energy and strength to keep movin’ up.

     The course is a tangled mess of twists and turns.  Very spectator friendly, very easy to assess your position, but very hard on the breaks.  I notice 2 riders way off the front.  I was about a minute off these two with about 20 minutes to go.  The riders around me were now a little tougher to catch and it was starting to be more back-and-forth between a group of about 5 of us.  These guys were really hard to shake.

     Lap by lap, I continue to pick’em off and there’s John giving me updates as I go...  “You’er in 9th...  8th...”  By now I’m really getting tired.  Wishing I had my full suspension mountain bike, the rough, hard grass is killing my back and hands.

     Three laps to go.  No sign of John to get updates from and I’m to spent to focus on how many I’ve passed.  I just focus on the next guy in front of me ‘til I overtake him and find the next guy.  By now the racers are completely spread evenly across the entire course as I start to lap some of the slower guys making it difficult to assess my position.

     Two laps to go.  There are 3 of us now jockeying for position.  Although not quite sure of my position, I knew I had a chance for a podium finish (Top 5).  Over the 2 barriers in front of the beer garden where fans cheered and hollered over the blarin’ tunes from the hip-pop DJ, out across the velodrome, and out toward the parking lot. So continuing to max out the effort, we made our way back to the parking lot near the start line to finish our last lap.  I went super wide around the 90 deg. turn at the start line to maintain speed.  Leaning into the turn as far as I dare with knobby tires, I just clear the flags on the other side as I stand to sprint for the guy ahead of me.  Looking back, the other two guys are right on my tail.  Back on the grass things slow down a bit so I give a little more.  Through the rough bumpy section on the south end of the course, struggling to keep a strait line to the run-up/log barriers.  Obviously the spot to be if you’re a spectator as there were hundreds of them, all lined up to see some “action.”  Here, there are about 4 logs in a row on a slight incline turn up the grassy back side of the velodrome.  Dismount - hop, hop, hop, hop - remount, clip in and go.  Flawless.  I think I’m starting to get the hang of this stuff.  Now to the far east side of the course were there was a short dirt road where I could get up top speed and rest my back a bit from all the crazy bumps in the grass. Back on the grass on the north end and now right on the wheel of the guy I was chasing.  Another 90 deg turn as we head into the center portion of the course.  I get a burst of motivation and energy and fly the guy as I make a perfect line through the zig-zag on the north grassy bank of the valodrome.  The other two guys are still on my tail.  Across the smooth track of the velodrome now on the inside near the beer garden and Finish line.  Making one last 90 deg turn, I fall back one spot.  I’m now just trying to hang on his wheel not to loose any ground.  The last 100 meter stretch was strait past the beer garden to the finish.  I could see a handful of people beyond the Finish and was unsure if they were lapped riders or top finishers.  Still I know I was in a good position for finishing so I gave it everything to keep my position.   Past the beer garden, past the announcer, under the Finish arch and strait to a clear open grassy area to lie down and die!

...

     “Yes folks, we’ve got a great course in store for you today. ... It’s fast, it’s tough and it’s spectator friendly...”  The announcer continues to welcome the riders into the finish.  I ended up with a 4th place finish, 3 seconds behind 3rd and 43 seconds behind 1st and scored some nice swag.  Not too bad for my first cyclocross race.

Results: http://www.seattlecyclocross.com/starcrossedresults07.pdf

The rest of the evening was less painful but not any less exciting as we stuck around to watch the elite man and woman race under the “Stars” as we sipped hot lattes and mochas to help stay warm.  Next Cyclocross: Portland velodrome, Alpenrose, Oct. 7th.  But first, I must defend my XTERRA title at Lake Tahoe this weekend.

     Life is good... :)

...

2007 XTERRA Regional Champion

Well, the waiting is over and it’s official.  May it be your pleasure to know the Northwest age group XTERRA Regional Champion. :)  I’ll be signing photos and answering questions this Sunday at Starbucks. :)  Or maybe I’ll just go biking instead.  :)  The following link has info on the champions.  I guess they will be introducing them at the National Championships as well.

http://www.xterraplanet.com/news/press_article.cfm?id=2029

My little idea to do a few XTERRA races has turned out to be quite an adventure.  To recap: XTERRA Vashon Island on July 15 started it all off giving me some confidence that I might go to Tahoe.  Next was XTERRA Mountain Championships in Ogden UT on August 18 giving me enough points to go to Nationals, the last race was XTERRA Wild Ride in McCall, ID on August 26 where I earned enough points for regional champion.

I’m now in full swing peak training for Nationals at Lake Tahoe on September 30, cramming in as much speed work as I can stand over a 4 week period.  Running 4 days a week including 2 track workouts, hill repeats and long runs (thanks Brian!! #%$@!!); swimming 3 days a week at a time of day no human should have to experience; and biking 3 days a week including 3 epic rides at Harris Park (this Sunday being the longest: 4-5 hours (with Greg Turpen no less).

Worlds?  Well, maybe next year…

Ryan

2007 XTERRA Mountain Championships & Wild Ride

August 18 was the XTERRA Mountain Championships held at Snowbasin near Ogden, Utah. It included a 1.5 k swim, a 35 k mountain bike, and an 8.5 k trail run. This is part of the America Tour that would help me earn points to qualify for Nationals at Lake Tahoe, Nevada. The top 10 in my age group would qualify for Nationals and I was sitting in 11^th. A middle of the pack finish would be all I need to move into the top 10. With one more race yet to come (McCall, ID), I was not too worried about it.

The days leading up to the event were hot and dry somewhere in the mid 90s. Not having any rain for weeks and a pre-ride of the course earlier that week revealed dry, dusty conditions. A wide tire with a low profile would work nice but only riding half the course, and having to a lube to my chain several times, promised to make chain suck and even worse, breaking a chain, a concern during the event.oe, Nevada. The top 10 in my age group would qualify for Nationals and I was sitting in 11^th. A middle of the pack finish would be all I need to move into the top 10. With one more race yet to come (McCall, ID), I was not too worried about it.

As the evening approached so did dark storm clouds. By night time there was thunder and lightning and plenty of rain. It was quite the light show.The afternoon before the event the officials checked the lake temperature: 74 degrees. The “no wetsuit” rule was put into effect. With no wetsuit I would be swimming either without a tri-top to reduce the drag in the water but would have to somehow pull it on over a wet sticky body thus taking more time in transition or swim with my tri-top on creating more drag but producing a quicker transition. This was a dilemma and in triathlon, every second counts.imb as would the water temp. The “no wetsuit” limit is 72 degrees and the lake was quickly approaching this. This no wetsuit rule is a safety precaution to reduce the risk of heat exhaustion and is enforced vary firmly. Not being prepared for a swim without a wet suit I was starting to get worried.As the days went by before the event the temperatures would continue to climb as would the water temp. The “no wetsuit” limit is 72 degrees and the lake was quickly approaching this. This no wetsuit rule is a safety precaution to reduce the risk of heat exhaustion and is enforced vary firmly. Not being prepared for a swim without a wet suit I was starting to get worried.

Waking up race morning to much cooler temperatures, it promised make for ideal conditions. Arriving at the swim start to set up my gear, the officials were informing everyone that the “no wetsuit” rule was being withdrawn. Apparently, the rain had stirred up the lake bringing the cooler water from below the surface to the top. The temperature had dropped nearly 10 degrees brining the lake to a comfortable 65 degrees.

After a quick warm up in the lake it was 9:00 am and time to start. The cannon’s explosion signaled the start and we were off.

I had been sick with chest congestion the weeks following up to the event so I took it easy during the swim as a precaution so that I did not blow up before the bike leg. This was smart because there was no opportunity to recover on the bike. After 2 laps, I was out of the 1.5 K swim in 22 minutes in tacked and ready to tackle the hellatious bike course that awaited.

Shortly after transition, the bike would start its ascent up the mountain and costing was not an option. The bike course would start at 4500 feet and climb to 7500 feet at the highest point, ascending a total of 3400 feet and only descending 1800 (where’s the love?).

Having rained the night before, the trails were in excellent condition. No dust, no chain suck, no worries, just hammer like crazy! And that’s just what I did. Knowing the steepest portion of the course wouldn’t come ‘til the last half of the bike leg just passed ski lodge, I would start off conservative and slowly build up so that I would have enough energy for the last loop above the lodge.

Climbing at a snails pace of 6 miles per hour I had plenty of opportunity to take in some of beautiful surrounding country. The course was mostly single track with a nice double track lead-in to secure a position. There was a little bit of everything here: single track, double track, rocky sections that needed fines to negotiate, switch backs, bridge crossings, stairs to descend, fast zigzag descents (although not many), trees…

Finding a small group of about 4 riders at about my same level I could maintain a good pace and still have some company. That all changed at the first major descent.

After a year and a half of familiarizing my self with my bike I finally felt comfortable to just opened ‘er up and let ‘er fly. And that’s what she did. Every opportunity I had to pass, I did. What a rush. This was some of the best single track I’ve encountered in a long time. No wash outs, hard pack and very grippy (not sure if that’s even a word). As long as I kept my head up and anticipated the corners I just flew. But that didn’t last too long. Back to more climbing.

Ahh, the first feed zone. Fresh cold water. Tossing my empty bottle and grabbing a new one, I immediately took a mouthful. Refreshing! I would definitely need this for the next 8 miles that await.

Finally reaching the lodge at 6300 feet I could see the transition area, but we weren’t done yet. The trail took a harsh right that directed us up a steep, steep, STEEP jeep trail; the kind of trail that you rid over your front tire to keep from falling backward. Picking the easiest gear and giving just enough to keep moving, I feared if I gave any more I would explode. …a little recovery and up we go again, this time many people are running their bikes. Not me, I’m going to make it! Swerving left and right just to keep my balance I inched up the trail. Folk running were now starting to pass me. “Almost there, not going to quit now.”

After reaching the top, or what I thought was the top based on my observation down below, I noticed more climbing… Anyway, you get the idea.“Phew!” Over the jeep trail and on to some more single track. Looking up, I could see our trail wind up the mountain side dotted with mountain bikers. The switchbacks went up for ever. At the very top I could all I could see were little tiny dots with wheels.

Finally I reached the top at 7500 feet. “Wow, what a view!” I thought only for a second before starting the last descent back down to the lodge. At this point the racers were pretty spread out and I had the trail all to myself. Again I just opened ‘er up and enjoyed the ride. Dropping 1200 feet over 4 miles in 14 minutes. Back and forth, up and down, catching air every few minutes, it didn’t take long ‘til I was back at the lodge racking my bike and getting ready for the run.

After climbing for so long I knew my legs weren’t going to be very happy to start running. But not just running, running up hill…

After a speedy transition, and running around the lodge, it was up hill again. It was about a 300 foot climb over about a half mile. Instantly my quads started to cramp up. I forced myself to run through it but that didn’t last long.

Now finding my self walk I was quite frustrated. Every step was an effort just to get my leg muscles to work properly. “This is going to be a long run,” I thought. But then after a few minutes the cramping started to go away. Continuing to walk I reached the top of the hill. The walk turned fast stride, the stride turned into a jog, the jog turned into a run ‘til I was back up to race pace. “This was great!” My spirits were lifted and I was on my way.

Running over rocky terrain, leaping over rocks and roots, zigzagging though twisty single track, my mind was alert and attentive. ...planning every step and turn. One wrong step would mean devastation. ...and then it happened. I rolled my foot off the edge of a small rock and twisted my ankle. “Ouch!” I said, along with a few other words, as I tried to slow down.

It’s not like I could instantly stop running and remove the weight from the injured ankle. I had a pretty good pace goin’. Nor could I through myself to the ground. ...it was rocky. So I slowed as fast as I could while screaming ouch and stuff.

Again I was walking. I thought for sure this was it. I walked for about another 1/2 mile and things started to feel good. I tried to run but it hurt. I found that if I ran on my toes it removed the strain on the outside of my ankle. So that’s what I did. The last 3 miles was an odd looking limp but it got me to the Finnish in a semi respectable 46 minutes and 37 seconds for the 5.2 mile run finishing the whole thing in 3 hours 13 minutes and 15 seconds. Placing 6th in my age group, I earned enough points to put me in third place for the Northwest region and secure my entry into Nationals at Lake Tahoe in September.

Fast forward one week:

Saturday, August 25, my friend (Brian Schur) and I camped in Ponderosa State Park near McCall, ID, as we geared up for Sundays event: The Wild Rockies Xterra. This is the last stop for athletes to earn points toward entry into Nationals at Lake Tahoe. I currently had more than enough points to qualify so my hope here was to earn enough points for Regional Champion.

Xterra McCall consisted of a 3/4 mile swim in Payette Lake, a 19.7 mile mountain bike ride in the surrounding mountains and a 6.2 mile trail run in Ponderosa State Park.

A pre ride of the course revealed a very technical, rocky, dry course with lots of opportunity to get off the bike. Stream crossing, bolder obstacles, steep run ups, and a deep powder descent that hid many more unseen obstacles. Unlike Utah, this course would required attentiveness and skill to negotiate the terrain.

Race morning was a chilly 44 degrees that made jumping into the 60 degree lake feel like a warm bath. The water was calm and the air was still. It was going to be a great day for the event.

The race started at 9:00 am with what was said to be a 3/4 mile swim. I was out of the water in just over 8 minutes within the top ten swimmers. It was defiantly shorter than 3/4 mile. Racing though transition in 1:30, I was soon on my bike.

There were no surprises on the bike course. A good clean ride with no hiccups. Climbing the first 7 miles easily holding my position, negotiating the rocky sections with ease, running a few steep sections was unavoidable, and descending the deep powder section cautiously, I arrived back to the transition area intact and still somewhere in the top ten with a 1:39:43 bike split.

Just after a minute, I was out of transition and on the run. The run course was similar to Utah without the crazy hill climb at the start and about a mile longer. The run course consisted of shallow rolling hills with a few steep sections and one set of stairs. There were switchbacks, uneven rocky sections, bridge crossings, fallen trees to crawl under, hefty roots to jump over and a warning for a few bears! Yep, that’s what they said, “watch out for bears.” What the heck? Well, if anything was going to make me run faster, I guess bears would be it. I saw no bears, but I sure was ready for a sprint if need be.

Not seeing too many folks out on the run course, I figured they were either eaten or I had put enough distance on the bike to cruise in for a top ten finish. And that’s just what I did. I finished 10th overall and 5th in my age group with a 51:33 run split and 2:42:05 overall earning enough points to move int 1st place for regional champion. Brian Schur finished 13th with a time of 2:44:30.

The final Xterra event for the year is Nationals held at Lake Tahoe on September 30th. Supposedly harder than Utah but not any less attractive. But for the time being, my focus will be on recovery for Titanium Man this weekend in Kennewick.

Your humble race reporter,

Ryan Brown

2007 Whisky Dick Triathlon Race Report

The race strategies started a day early for this year’s Whisky Dick Triathlon…

The Whisky Dick is not your ordinary triathlon. ...it's longer than an Olympic distance but not quit a Half Iron either. ...it travels through three Washington Cities (towns really). ...and is a point to point race, meaning the finish is not at the same location as the start. This is true for all three events -- including the swim. …a logistical nightmare.

The swim is in the Columbia River at Vantage. It's a one mile swim and starts just north of the swim exit and bike transition.

The bike leaves Vantage and takes the old Vantage Highway up over Whisky Dick Pass. The first 12 miles climes 1900 feet (usually against grueling head winds) before only gaining 850 feet back as it descends into Kittitas totaling 26.2 miles arriving at the bike to run transition.

The run leaves Kittitas into the blazing hot country farm roads that separate Ellensburg from Kittitas. These roads seem to go forever. Long, strait and flat. Finally finishing up in Ellensburg after 8.8 shoe melting miles.

The night before the race as I rest quietly at my father’s house in Yakima, I read their local paper. In it is an article about the race and my 2nd place at The Valley of the Sun triathlon held only two weeks before. It also mentions that my performance at the Whisky Dick has improved every year since '03 and this might be the year. "Looks like Ryan is the man to beet" it stated. Might as well stick a big red bull’s eye on my back. I could only hope that my competition didn't get a hold of this. Maybe I could change my name or race number and pretend to be someone else.

The next morning was no different than any other race morning: Up way too early, eat when I'm not hungry and out the door before the rest of the world has finished dreaming about building go-carts with their ex-landlords (or whatever).

Arriving at the swim start in Vantage, conditions are much cooler and calmer that past years (last years high was 105 with head winds as high a 20 mph). Times would definitely be fast today. After a brief pre-race meeting, it was off to the swim start.

Bang!! As Mr. Whisky Dick himself fires a shot from an old musket or whatever it was time to start. I had a pretty good swim (20:15). Exited in 3rd (plus a few extra team swimmers), passed one in transition and caught the other as I headed out on the bike.

I figured if I was going to take this thing I would need a pretty good lead on the bike. So that was my focus. I sighted a few team riders that had gotten the lead due to some extraordinary team swimmers. Half way to the top I had passed all the team riders and had no one else to chase.

Ryan Brown leads eventual winner Lane
Seeley up a climb during the bike portion of
the Whisky Dick Triathlon

I noticed my hart rate dropping as there was no more incentive to go hard. I realized if I didn't pick it up I would run the risk of others catching me. So I put the hammer down and didn't let up.

Arriving at Kittitas with a healthy lead I started the run. The first few miles felt good. I was holding the pace I wanted and was in pretty good spirits.

After rounding the first corner after what seemed to be the longest, loneliest 2 miles I've ever ran was another long stretch of road that would seem to go on forever (4 miles of long, straight, blazing asphalt to be exact).

It was then I started to hear foot steps. ...foot steps at a very high cadence. ...approaching rather quickly. Whoosh!!! Lane Seeley (younger brother of Matt Seeley) came and went as if I was walking. I tried to hang but it was no use, my legs just didn't comprehend "blazing fast."

As the miles clicked by he continued to gain distance on me. Every foot strike he seemed to get smaller and smaller until he was just a tiny dot in the distance. ...and then he was gone. Things were quiet again, and lonely. Mile after mile, aid station after aid station... what seemed to be another 100 miles later, another team runner came up on me and he was gone as well.

By now I was in town and only had another mile or so to go. Taking every advantage I could to stay cool, I would run through local people’s yards that had there sprinklers running in hops I could make it to the finish line without melting.

36 miles, 2 hours, 44 minutes, and 50 seconds later, I arrived in tacked and in second place (12 minutes faster than last year). But it wasn't close by any means. Lane Seeley finished in 2:38:39; running a minute faster per mile on average.

Mark McLean finished 1st in his age group and 11th overall in 3:00:21. He enjoyed the race so much that he’s already looking forward to next year.

Paul Meier in 3rd in his age group and 13th overall in 3:04:21.5, over 20 minutes faster than last year!

Here's a link to the complete results: http://www.whiskydick.com/2007/WhiskyDick2007_Individuals.html

Another Whisky Dick in the record books. Thanks for talking the time to read. Stay tuned for more Xterra adventures as I continue to ride the beaten path on my way to qualify for Nationals at Lake Tahoe this September.

Your humble race reporter,
Ryan Brown

2007 XTERRA Vashon Island Off Road Triathlon

After a 15 minute ferry ride from Tacoma, we (Brian Schur, Derrick Watkins and I) arrived on Vashon Island (just southwest of Seattle) shortly after 12:00 pm Saturday, July 14.

Ryan, Brian, & Derrick Ready to Go!!

Vashon Island is host to many tourist attractions. This weekend’s attractions included the Vashon Island Strawberry Festival and the Vashon Island XTERRA triathlon.

The Vashon Island Strawberry Festival is probably the biggest event held on the Island all year. It features artist exhibits, a grand parade, classic cars, live music and entertainment, food vendors, arts and crafts and more. Pretty much the whole island gets involved in this event. ...all except for a small group of thrill seeking individuals that call themselves triathletes. ...and not just triathletes, but XTERRA triathletes.

The Vashon Island XTERRA is Washington’s only XTERRA and is part of the XTERRA Point Series to earn an entry into XTERRA Nationals held each year at Lake Tahoe. for those of you that don’t know, XTERRA is the off-road cousin to triathlon.

So many exciting things to do and see on the Island. How would we ever decide what to do? Needles to say, this small group of weekend warriors was not interested in anything having to do with fruit, art exhibits or parades. The Strawberry Festival will have to wait, this year my goal is to earn an entry into XTERRA Nationals. The top 10 athletes in my age group and region (Northwest) will qualify for Tahoe.

We did manage to take in a bit of the strawberry festivities as we searched for a place to eat lunch. While enjoying a sandwich we were able to watch the local fire department take up an entire 1/4 mile stretch of road as they put on a competition among their fellow fire fighters consisting of a race to get suited up, drag a “victim” up one street, carry 2 chain saws down another, then hose down 3 traffic cones 25 yards away. Quite entertaining.

But now it was back to business. After lunch we headed to the race site to pre-ride the course. One loop of the 2 loop bike course and also road the run course. Before this weekend, if I could imagine what an XTERRA course should look like, this would be it.

The swim is a salt water swim in Quartermaster Harbor, just off the Puget Sound. The bike is two loops and consists of twists, turns, roots (big ones, the kind you can, and will, get your chain ring hung up on), steep climbs, fast descents, drop offs, stinging nettle, and lots and lots of trees! At one point the trees were so dense that it was hard to see. The run started out with a major climb out of the park that seemed to go on for ever. Just like the bike course it also consisted of many twists and turns, roots, steep climbs, fast (knee buckling) descents, drop offs, more stinging nettle and even more trees!

After pre-riding the course, swollen and itchy from the nettle and down to 2 good rear derailleur (starting with 3), it was crunch time. Derrick had busted his to bits just before finishing up. Brian and Derrick both suffering severely from an allergic reaction to the nettle were in desperate need of Benadryl.

It was now 6:30 pm, Brian’s voice all but gone and Derrick sneezing uncontrollably using his shirt as a snot rag, it was time to make a decision: fined some Benadryl to relieve the two of their suffering or track down a bike shop that would still be open to purchase a rear derailleur? Find the derailleur of course!

We finally traced down a bike shop in Tacoma that had the derailleur and was open ‘til 8:00 pm. The next two ferries would leave at 6:50 and 7:45. It was 6:50 or perish.

We arrived at the ferry at 6:53 leaving a few 100 miles worth of rubber somewhere along the way. There were 4 cars head of us and were still cars onto the ferry. One by one the attendant was signaling them on. He pointed to the car right in front of us and waved them on. He pointed to us and held up his palm. “That it” he said.

There was one last option: single speed! We would wait ‘til in the morning at the race venue to make the conversion in case we were able to fine a derailleur there.

We turned around to locate some Benadryl, eat some dinner then set up camp. Having just enough light to set up camp it was time for bed.

Race morning, rested, and in better spirits, we all had breakfast consisting of our own pre-race meals: I have my usual bagel, peanut butter and honey; Brian I think had a Power Bar; and Derrick, well, something he found the night before at the grocery store: instant Mac & Cheese with a little caned chicken. We packed up and headed to the race start.

The weather was calm and cool. The water temp was somewhere in the high 60’s so I decided not to bother with a wetsuit. Derrick ended up with the race director’s mountain bike to race on. Things were starting to come together. Also, it was nice to see a familiar face at the event. Tony Sako was escaping a family function in Seattle to come don and race.

The swim would start off a boat dock a ways into the salt water bay. 15 minutes before the race start we all headed to the dock. I felt the water temp with my hands. It was a little chilly. “this feels a little cooler than high 60’s” I said. I jumped in to a quick warm up, quickly turned around, got out and started whining like a little girl. This is way too cold for no wet suit. I looked around and saw no one else without a suit. This was going to be one cold swim.

9:00 am and we were off. Men first then women. About 110 athletes took the plunge. Getting out there a ways, the water actually felt warmer and was actually just about right.

I noticed a lead group pulling away in the water and couldn’t bridge the gap. I cam out of the water about 4 minutes behind the leader and about 2 min behind the chase group in about 17th.

Not having to deal with a wet suit and fast transition skills, I was able to start the bike in about 12th place. I passed a few more right at the beginning of the bike as we made our way through town to the forest.

I was now sitting in about 7th place. For the first lap there would be very little athletes around me. I caught and passed one early in the first loop on one of the climbs while later I would be passed by someone else on one of the technical, rooted, tree infested descents.

At the end of the loop, after a long and technical, wear-you-out, descent there was a 3 foot drop onto a flat graveled parking lot that was hidden by a turn around a large tree, if not handled correctly, would throw you over the handle bars face first into the gravel. Pre-riding the course the day before, we were prepared. Coming in hot, I pulled up hard to come flying off the drop of landing hard using every bit of full suspension I had to absorb the shock. I noticed lots of spectators with their cameras cheering as I flew by them. From what I hear, this was the sight for a great deal of entertainment for spectators as many racers did not make it as they crashed into the gravel parking lot.

Derrick and Brian also made it with no scraps and bruises... Tony on the other hand was not quite as fortunate. The first lap, not knowing what to expect, bailed just before the corner as his bike flew off the edge to the street below. Chasing after his bike, he had bypassed the drop off completely still unaware of the troubles awaiting him for the second lap.

My second lap consisted of lapping a few of the slower athletes. Although mostly single track, the slower riders were very courteous and pulled to the side as I not-so-gracefully pounded the dirt flying from root to root.

I managed to complete the 2nd loop rubber side down as well as Derrick and Brian. Tony, on the other hand, did remember to slow before the last turn into the parking lot but was unaware of the shame and humility awaiting him around the corner.

After making the turn, Tony immediately hit the brakes throwing his rear tire into the air as he plummeted down the drop off, landing head first somehow on top of his bike. Cameras flashing, the crowd loved it, they cheered him back on his bike to the bike-to-run transition.

Starting the run, my legs were heavy and the climb seemed to last forever. After leveling off, the rest of the run was rolling hills and very twisty. The trees were so dense that it was impossible to see anyone else on the course unless I was right on ’em. I could hear rustling in the thick foliage but couldn’t tell if it was someone coming up on me or if I was coming up on them. Either way, I picked it up and eventually caught and passed someone as he said “good job” and “go get ’em!” I continued to keep the pace up around the corners using the tree branches and vines to help keep the momentum up.

After a though battle on the run with knee aching descents, ankle tweaking turns and shrubbery hiding all sorts of ankle high surprises, I finished with a 6 place overall, 3rd in my age group and 61 (out of a possible 75) points toward a Nationals qualification. Brian finished just outside of top 10 in 11th, Derrick in 54th and Tony in 60th.

My next XTERRA will be in Ogden, UT on August 18th followed by McCall, ID on August 26th. A little closer on the radar though is the Whisky Dick triathlon in Vantage this weekend.

Your humble reporter,

Ryan