Cyclocross!

As if I needed a new activity to fill my time, right?  Well I finally got the entree I needed to cyclocross, or just cross, for short.  This is something I've been wanting to do for a couple of years, and I kept hearing about this clinic put on by one of the local bike clubs.

Cross is a weird sport, and probably requires more technical skill than most types of biking - bike handling skills are important, but any rider can pick those up with enough practice.  But all the mounting and dismounting and carrying and running takes some instruction or you'll just hurt yourself.

Because of that, I've been checking this group's website regularly, but there was nary a mention of the cross clinic.  Months go by.  Nothing.  More months.  Nothing.  Then, after almost two years of just peddling around on my bike without really knowing what I was doing, the clinic arrives!

It started early on Sunday morning, and it was cold.  But the instructor and assistants did a good job of keeping us all moving, and within an hour or so I was stripping layers (though there were a lot of layers).  The clinic itself covered some basic techniques and what you need to know to get through the course: dismounting, remounting, getting over barriers, proper carry technique both in your hand and on your shoulder, and hairpin turns.  It was so much fun and I seemed to have a decent handle on some of the skills, though there are a couple on which I will have to fight bad habits - I can tell already.

After the clinic there was a race, and folks who took the clinic were invited to attend.  The sun was coming out and it was turning into a nice day, so I decided to hang around for the race.  There was a girl named J who had been there for the clinic.  She looked like a biker, tall and thin.  She was clearly in better shape than me, and she started out ahead of me during the first lap.  But every time we came to an obstacle, I made up ground on her.  So that was my secret.

I hung with her for the first lap and a half, then passed her.  We ended up doing six laps (the lap count is strange - I may get around to explaining that later), and on the last lap, I fell!  It was a completely dry spot, but a hairpin turn that was dry bordering on dusty.  My tires were caked with mud from the wet portions of the track, and I hit that dry dirt just a little too fast.  J gained some serious ground on me, and ended up passing me.

But we had one more obstacle, followed by a huge uphill, and I closed some of the gap.  Lucky for me, J really wasn't paying attention, and didn't push all the way to the finish line, and I passed her with about 10 feet to go.  Whew!