Snotcycle Mountain Bike Race Report

7.6 miles of frozen tundra – and electric fences

“’Weather be damned…”” Mical’s e-mail read. “This sounds like a fun race for you to do!” I looked over the race information provided in the A-list description – a mountain bike race in Leesburg, VA at the end of January, on a private course only open one other time of year – in April for the Bakers Dozen 13 hour mtb race. Never mind that I haven’t been on the bike since September, the introduction from the race director made it sounded like it might be the type of atmosphere I’d enjoy:

“…and a good old fashioned "Fear this", "Piss on Ford, Chevy, and Chrysler", Screw the economy, rebel yell hella good time.I don’t want to hear any of the following crap:

My drivetrain will get damaged
My spandex will get dirty
I will slip in the mud
My toes will get cold
The bourbon in my water bottle tastes funny with cow crap in it”

Yep, I’d better dust off the ‘ole 29er and figure out how to seal my camelback well enough to keep the cow crap out. What about my poor little drivetrain?

Conveniently, the working farm where this race is located is the property adjacent to White's Ferry on the Potomac River, so it was easy to get there early on the cold Saturday morning of race day. I was a little nervous as I crossed the river, as I always am before a mtb race on a course I’ve never been on before. The river had some light ice flowing downstream as the ferry crossed it – foreshadowing of what was to come?

Driving onto the property, I passed through a wide swath of pine trees that had obviously been planted as a buffer to shield the property from the noise of VA 50 which borders it on the west side (the Potomac boarders it on the East). Coming out of the trees, I was surprised at how many cars were already in the frozen, snowy field, - I was a tad early, and the beginner male race was the first race of the day. Doing some slight off-roading in the Prius, I found a spot in the second row of cars. Getting out of the car to go pick up my registration packet, I suddenly realized I had made a mistake in not bringing any warmer clothes for the pre/post race – it was cold! At the registration tent I picked up my swag, a neat winter cap with the snot-cycle logo on it. With no protection from the wind on the walk back to the car I found my fingers already going numb.

Back at the car I realized that I had parked right next to some racers sponsored by Dogfish! They were opening several cases of beer and putting them in a cooler in the back of their truck – I made some small talk with them and asked what they got out of being sponsored by Dogfish other than being everyone’s friend at the end of the race. “That’s pretty much it” they said. From their discussion I gathered that they were entered in the sport and expert class races, so they would be racing later and longer then I would be (beginners do 2 loops of the 7.6 mile course, while sport started an hour later and did 3 loops, experts even later doing 4 loops. Also, all racers would wear smart tags strapped to their ankles, a first for me on a mtb race).

Since it was not that long before my race I got my things in order and decided to do a little pre-race riding to get the feel of riding in the froze/snowy conditions. Getting on my bike I started riding across the field. The traction actually didn’t seem too bad, on the untracked snow you would break through the crust, giving you some traction. Getting on a dirt road through the field I decided to lightly pedal through the turn to see how the traction would hold up, figuring I would be able to right myself if I started to sl….. WHAM! The bike immediately goes down, dropping me on my right hip on solid ice. G*D D*#N that hurt! The thought immediately flashed through my mind of tales about the elderly relative told by sad mourners at the funeral home: “He was in such good shape for 90, until he fell and broke his hip. After that it was just a quick decline until….” Hips get broken on falls like that. Gingerly I flexed my hip, and found it still moved. The hip was not broken, I was not the elderly relative, and there was no need to call the mortician quite yet.

Getting up, and now freezing, I gimped the bike over to the bonfire to warm up, not even sure now if I should start the race. Before making a decision I made a half-hearted attempt to pre-ride the first part of the course. This consisted of a ¼ mile dirt farm-road which varied between sheets of ice and torn-up frozen dirt before entering the pine tree buffer I had driven through earlier. In the trees the snow had not been packed into ice yet. I decided that if I kept it in the low gears and did not try to provide any power or breaking through the turns I would probably survive, but this would be a ride, not a race. Going to the start I heard someone say it was 13 degrees, and although I don’t think it was really that cold, the fall had made it feel even colder – I no longer had any competitive fire to draw on.

At the start of the race I lined up at the very back of the rather large pack of beginner males. “Get Ready – Go!” – and the strangest race start ever unfolded before my eyes: other than a few people at the start of the pack, everyone else lollygagged. There is no other word for it. I heard someone say “This is the slowest race start in history”. It was going so slow that I decided I needed to pass some people just to keep warm - I did a slow cross-country next to the road until getting into the single track in the pine-buffer. Once on the single track the race took on the feel of a leisurely summer ride on cruisers (beyond the fact that it was freezing), with everyone going slow on the straight stretches and then virtually stopping for the curves. The pine buffer reminded me of those easy, flat ski-trails at the resorts out west, and the snow was about that consistency – probably would have made for quite nice cross-country skiing.

At first I was glad to be taking it easy, but soon it became ridiculous – with the snow and the single track it was impossible to pass. After about 2 miles we came out of the pine buffer onto a road bordered by electric fences separating two fields that took you to the center of the farm – at this point I decided it was time to make some headway and started passing people on some good frozen dirt to the side. Thinking it might give me better traction on the ice I turned my front fork suspension off, just in time to get shaken to bits crossing a section of field rutted out with frozen hoof impressions from the resident herd (much worse than trying to rid over cobblestones). This took us into the trees for a convoluted singletrack that lasted around 4.5 miles. This trail “flowed” quite nicely, using the landscape to direct the trail, and I could tell that it would be a lot of fun in the summer. In some ways it is similar to Schaffer’s, but with large rocks with interesting natural cuts in them, just large enough for a rider and bike to fit through. Plus you also rode with views of the river in several stretches. Several log obstacles and drop-downs, with a few short steep climbs, but just technical enough to be interesting, not daunting. Plus the snow in this section was of better quality giving you better traction, so at this point I started catching people again. I would often pass people in bunches as they would come across a fallen rider in a turn, or would bunch up at an obstacle and not be able to get over it due to the snow or nerves. Plus, other riders were getting winded at this point as well (thank you Greenway training runs!), since they hadn’t been on their bikes since summer.

After another short stretch in a pine buffer I broke out of the trees and into the field again for about ½ a mile to finish the loop – here the traction was good with very little snow cover – until you passed through the start at which point you passed over mats which recorded your time – 48 minutes! I was pretty happy with that, as I had heard the Dogfish crowd say it would take about an hour to do a lap.

Starting on the second loop I was starting to get cocky – I had not fallen yet, and was feeling pretty good, although I was also starting to feel the need to eat something. My camelback tube kept ½ way freezing up on me, so I was also not drinking as much as I needed to. Going through the pine buffer I passed a rider who had been in my sights for a while. Coming up to the end of the trees I laid the bike down on a turn – not a hard fall, but as long as I was off the bike I decided to eat a gel, during which time the same rider passed me. Getting back on the bike, I caught up to the rider at the beginning of the dirt road boarded by the electric fences. Remembering the good dirt here from the first time around, I decided to hammer it – I see some ice, but I’m just going straight so I should be able to just go right over it and pass this guy. Wham! I hit the dirt with my left hip, sliding into the fence – not as hard as my first fall but hard enough. To add insult to injury, the electric fence is turned on!! I get shocked twice before I’m able to extricate myself. The other rider looks at me like I’m crazy (what kind of idiot rides his bike into an electric fence?) , asks me if I’m OK, and then continues on. Only my pride is injured, but now the wind is out of my sails again, and the next 5 miles look awfully long.

I ride across the field – at the rutted out cattle crossing someone has cast off their camelback and it lies across the trail, most likely it’s frozen shut and someone has thrown it away in disgust. After the bumpy crossing everything hurts – both hips and arms from the wrecks, as well as the nether regions from 5 months off the bike. I turn my front fork back on, desperate for relief from feeling every bump of the frozen ground. It helps. I pass the guy I wrecked in front of - he gets out of my way, probably scared of what the crazy guy who likes to wreck into electric fences will do next.

I’m now in the 4.5 mile single track, which has decided to prove to me that, whatever I thought in the first loop, it is not my friend. I’m now riding by myself, and without someone in front of me to slow me down (amazing, since at this point I’m tired and feel like I’m crawling) I put the bike down in the first 3 turns I come to. You just cannot lean into the turns at all or the snow acts like loose dirt and causes your front tire to slide out. Plus the riders have worn off the surface snow while riding this section on the first loop, revealing the ice underneath. This makes even small rises in the trail treacherous. I ride the next 3.5 miles without seeing another rider. Am I really on the course? Or did I get stuck in something like Fountainhead’s do-loop, riding forever on a frozen path until exhausted, not to be found until the spring thaw like some perverse Encino man in tights?

Well, turns out I was on the right course after all, passing a few other pathetic souls right before breaking out into the field once again. Although I can spot other riders on the trail before me, my heart is not in it and I don’t even really try to catch them before the finish line. I finish the 2nd loop in 47 minutes, only 1 min faster than my first loop due to the various wrecks. However, I did finish 30th out of 58, which, since I basically started in last place means I passed ~ ½ the field during the course of the race, which just seems crazy.

So, what do I think of Snotcycle? Well, it would be a great course for a 13 hour race in April. The course is much easier physically then the Cranky Monkey 12 hour course in Quantico, although this would present its own challenges because you could push yourself harder, which over 13 hours would really add up. As far as a mtb race in January? It’s an experience, but I’ll have to wait to see how long it takes for the hip-soreness to wear off before I can make an un-biased judgment (yes it was fun). Would I do it next year? Next year I will be one year older, one year closer to that call to the mortician and Erik needs a daddy….

Would I do it next year? Yes, but first I’m buying hip armor.

Fin:
So do I have any regrets?

Yes - The Dogfish team was out racing when I got back, so their cooler was locked and I didn’t even get any beer!!