Sand Trap

November 1, 2007 · Print This Article

By Tasha
Boulder, Colorado

Here’s a race report that it took me a couple of days to put together in my head, because it needed to be totally, like, profound and stuff. I’m all about profanity. Profoundness. Right. Anyway…

Race #3 in the Boulder Cross Series was last Sunday (after a really SWEET Saturday of Veloswap insanity) at the Boulder Reservoir. So, people told me the course was sandy. I was like, oh whatever, there’ll be some sandy sections. Easy!

NO. There was SAND.

$(%*@*#! SAND.

So I’m all like pre-riding and stuff, and I’m like, sweet straightaway, nice barriers (over a big plastic weird pier) and there are skydivers parachuting into the field next to the course, and I’m watching them and running into things. And then it’s like, BEACH. SAND. AaaghghghghghhH!!!

It was cool. Finished my warmup and lined up. Started talking to my friend Chellie about halloween costumes. Whoops, the official just blew the whistle. What? Was that for us? Oh gee, looks like it’s time to race.

Against all odds I made a nice start and got into the front group just fine. It was a happy sunny ridiculously warm day, temps in the seventies, no wind. I’d just gotten into a nice pace and we gapped the chase group, when on the second lap, I carried too much speed into a turn and slid out. I sort of sat there for a minute while the chase group flew past and a nice mechanic sort of guy picked up my bike and ensured that I was coherent. Then I remembered what I was doing (oh yeah, racing. right?) and hopped back on the bike. I could tell immediately that my butt had lost some skin, and also my knee, but LUCKILY no damage sustained to my sweet Kona or Louis Garneau skinsuit. Pride comes before and after a fall in bike racing.

So, I started chasing, and also trying to brush all the dirt off my butt so everyone could see the nice design on the skinsuit. That was pretty much the rest of the race, except I also nearly fell into the lake no less than three times. The course went right along this super deep wet sand at the edge of the water. By the time I’d worked my way back up through the chase group I was sort of really tired and my butt was sore. So I was entirely content with tenth place.

Really, a delightful day, particularly the sand run-up with its perplexing characteristic of seeming to pull you slower the harder you tried to run fast. Sort of like quicksand, except with spectators and bicycles.

Happy trails and cross courses,

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