First I said I didn’t want to race the dual slalom at the Jeep King of the Mountain in New Jersey. I raced it, qualified, took home some cash and had a damned fine time. When asked if I was planning on attending the next KOM in Park City, UT, my white little angel self of logic and sensibility sat on my shoulder and asked, “Why tempt fate? We did well had fun and walked away unscathed. Let’s end here.” My little devil self of good times, fate tempting and chance promptly poofed over my other shoulder, said nothing, flew over to my little angel self and gored her with her pitch fork. Needless to say, I registered myself for the Park City race and booked my flight.This was a multi-purpose trip. First, I was going to race. Second, Interbike was the following week and the timing was perfect to drive down from Salt Lake to Las Vegas with Jackie. Third, after ten years of trying to travel with a bike and taking it up the backside from the airlines, I was determined to fly with my bike and pay no bike fee. I had seen it done before in some
creative ways. Connie managed to stuff her frame in a pack and Lisa hauled hers out in a hockey bag. Since I was bringing my small bike, aka “Beatdown Betty” I thought I could break her down enough to fit into my hockey bag, so I disassembled as little as possible to fit everything but the wheels, which I stuffed into a different bag. It’s better to pay $25 for the extra bag rather than a $100 bike fee!The rest of the exchange went something like this:
Me: “You guys are here for the Jeep dual slalom race?”
Rennie: “Um, you’re racing bikes?”
Needless to say, they were not impressed. In fact, as they make their way to the door they avoid my general personal area by a great deal, should my dorkiness somehow be contagious. Thankfully Kimber came and rescued me shortly after. We drove to her place in Park City and the weekend began.
Thursday was building bikes, registering and meeting up with Jackie to finalize things for the Freeride Foundation booth. We spent way too much time in Wal-Mart contemplating the rain-shedding properties of different types of colored tulle, avoiding bus weirdoes, getting coffee and such, but we finally made it to the venue for registration and to look the course over.
The last KOM course in New Jersey was rather mellow, fun, flowy, was about 28 seconds long and had stuff I could jump. The Utah course was not the New Jersey course. It was twice as long, twice as steep and the jumps and gaps were twice as big. It was a monster and I was no longer wearing clean underwear. It was looking like Jackie and I might have more free time on our hands than originally anticipated.
Friday rolled around and all of the athletes met for course inspection, two practice sessions and qualifying.
My first practice session went well. I was taking it easy, rolling the big stuff and finding some lines that I could set up to jump a double or two. We broke for lunch then went out again for the afternoon session. I took one run but could tell I was getting tired. On my second afternoon run I tried to turn it up a bit in the first two corners to clear the first double cleanly, and as soon as I took off, “POW!” My front tire blew clean off the rim, on which I landed, thankfully and miraculously holding on and riding it out. I got it cleaned up and fixed to finish up the rest of practice. There were still two big gaps that would certainly make or break a run that I was not hitting. These two qualifying runs could be my last runs of the weekend if everyone else who was hitting them nailed it in qualies.
By the time qualifying came around the wind had picked up quite a bit. Four of the top women didn’t make the final either due to missing gates or crashing. Jackie and I had played it safe, qualified with rather slow times, but kept it upright and made the money round. Not bad considering the very worst we could walk away with at this point was $500. Sometimes that’s just how it goes in racing. “Slower’s faster.”
I was certainly feeling the fatigue and tiredness set in when we went for dinner, at which point the rain started. I went back home, took a shower and went to bed, then woke up at 2am not to fall back asleep for another two hours. Waking just a few hours after that, Kimber and I loaded into her car to pick Jackie up and meet some friends at the Park City dirt jumps for a quick session.
The rain was periodic, but thunder rumbled and dark clouds loomed in the distance. Jackie and I left the others to set up the Freeride Foundation booth before the really bad weather came. We were glad we did because the weather came and with vengeance.
Spotty rain, thunder and lightning put the athletes on weather notice to be ready to race instead of practice at a moment’s notice. We got our bikes chipped for the timing and were able to take some practice runs, but then the wind kicked up again as we lined up for the final.
We rode up in Jeeps (I'm hanging onto the back)I went up against the UK phenom Fion Griffiths. I think I have been in this situation before at Sea Otter. We line up, the gate drops and she’s three flags down before I realize the race has started. Not this time! The gates open and we’re off. I’m able to hold her wheel until the first big gap. I break hard and she sails over it and out of my sight. It’s done. “Death by Griffiths” but I’m happy with my 6th place. I mean, $1000 for two minutes of lagging behind a world champion ain’t all bad, plus there was an open bar in the VIP tent.
One by one athletes are eliminated and the bar gets fuller and fuller. Then the typhoon hits. Rain comes sheeting down, flying in sideways and I swear, straight up from the ground! Everyone runs for cover and then down to the VIP tent for a dinner of sumptuous comfort foods, warming soups, decadent cakes and yummy brews. Kimber, Jackie, Adie and I hang out there for a while which turned out to be a great way to talk to all of the other athletes person to person. Tara Llanes was there to commentate the event and we had a chance to speak to her as well. I still can’t get over how these Jeep events really bring out the fun and personal sides of people instead of only the “racer face” side. It’s very refreshing.
Well, all good things must come to and end though, and for me they nearly came to a screeching halt. The fact that I had nearly zero sleep the night before, was tired, getting run down and was out playing in the cold rain started to take it’s toll. We girls tore the tent down and stuffed items wherever we could in such a fury that through the rest of the weekend items came up missing…items like, my purse complete with ID, credit cards, etc. By some grace of God, however I had kept one credit card in my pocket. Odd.
Later that night after getting cleaned up we all tried to go out, however without a valid ID, it was impossible to convince the twenty-three year old bouncer that I was, in fact old enough and that if he didn’t let me through the door, the age gap between us was great enough to be acceptable for me to take him over my knee and spank the puddin’ out of him. (That’s in the parental sense) No dice, but it was just as well ‘cause whatever I had caught was beating me into submission.
Sunday there was an awesome girls dirt jump session at I Street in Salt Lake City. Addie, Kimber, Jackie, Lisa, Liana and myself. Pictures say a thousand words and I’m sure you’re tired of reading by now, so here are a few. There's more in the vid below.
Addie promised not to land on my head and Kimber sails over the doubles
Group shot
I was supposed to work out of UT this week, and then head to Interbike with Jackie. Sadly, that’s a no-go. I’m getting sicker and sicker by the minute and need to just go home. I’ve got a flight set for tomorrow but still no ID. Hopefully I’ll be safely posting the rest of the trip details from NY tomorrow…if not I’ll be hitchhiking my way across I-80.
A fun little note: Freeride Foundation (http://www.freeridefoundation.com/) made it to the "Fashion" section of the Utah 48 Straight site! http://www.jeepmtnbiking.com/entertainment/fashion.php
A little video of our exploits. Anyone seen my purse?
