The day was wonky right off the bat and continued all the way through the morning until the team members finally got on their bikes and tore it up starting with XC. The plan was to meet at my house on the westside at 7am. I had gone to bed early to catch enough sleep before my 6am alarm. At nearly midnight I received a message from one of our newest members that she could not make it due to an overstay in the emergency room, post-mailboxes. At 7:15 Campbell woke me up and said the team was waiting outside, I don't even remember turning off my alarm, dang. Anyway, it was a frazzled rush to put together my few necessities; chamois, shoes, bike and ready to go.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who was too tired to wake up. When I stepped into my driveway, Stacey was already passed out in the back of my van after having worked all night at the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The drive was pleasant however, and we got to the race with plenty of time to register, shoot the shit and realize that I FORGOT MY HELMET! I've almost done this a million times, but it finally happened. So after passing through all seven stages of the Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle (Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, Acceptance) I managed to find a kind Stanford roadie who didn't need to use her's until the afternoon. I convinced Jackie to race XC, who also went through all said stages and managed to find a suitable helmet for her race. This meant that 10 out of 11 of us were racing XC today, a higher percentage than ever. By some chance of fate and ridiculousness, Chico's gravity team also raced XC (well, kind of) which was a blast.
We all had tons of fun racing, as usual. The course involved 2.5 miles of climbing, mostly on fire road, with a CX-style dismount up a staircase. Then after a grueling uphill quarter mile sandpit, the course immediately descends for 2 miles on some of the smoothest, flowiest, fastest singletrack you'll ever see in an XC race. I finished second in Men's B's. Campbell finished second in B/C girls. Those are the only places I know, but everyone seemed super stoked after the race.
We had 3 hours to relax in the shade in Jackie's truck and exchange massages before super D. Since it was the same as the XC descent, nobody bothered practicing. There were laughs, cries, high-stakes Rochambeau matches, slumbering snores and granola-envy on the part of those who woke up too late and frazzled to remember to bring food.
The super D involved quite a bit of waiting up top as the riders were released in minute intervals. My run was tons of fun, I rode my Bullit which I forgot how bad the blown out shock was. I pedaled and pedaled as hard as I could, taking the burms at lightning speed and sprinting like a mad man and after nearly losing my jewels several times due to lack of rebound on the bike, the race was over and I was covered in sweat after only 4 minutes of riding. The first guy I met at the bottom was a Bulgarian UCSB student named Veselyn who offered to re-build my shock in exchange for certain choice beverages and give it back to me at the next race. How freeking cool! What a deal! What a guy!
Race is over and it's burrito time. After getting lost in downtown Salinas and a quick stop at the legendary Moss Landing produce stand, we roll, nine deep into a cutty restaurant in Watsonville. I'm pretty sure there was more than just pork in my carnitas, but so far no diarrhea. Everyone as usual was super merry and as usual, we stumbled out of the place never wanting to ever eat food again and made the painless drive home in record time.
So that's it. Nothing too out of the universe, but a super enjoyable, mellow day with epic bits of shreddage between 10am to noon and 3pm to 4.
