Chicago cyclocross

Just got back from racing a cyclocross in Chicago.  I have been racing (multi, cycling, running) on and off for the past 15 years and this was my first attempt to race my bike outside the Western States (CA., NV., AZ.,UT., WA.).  Needless to say I learned ALOT.  First, my stress level of packing my new wheel set / new bike in a "soft case" which I borrowed from my local shop was very high.  I usually pride myself in being a low stress guy, but after flying 4 hours thinking about my bike being tossed around like a "buck ten" guy in a mosh pit, I was freaked.  The bike made it safe & sound, but I blame my stress level in the decision to re-assemble late that night.  This decision would prove to my downfall. 

Got up the next morning to do race prep and also check out Chicago via bike.  I just recently finished "Devil in the White City" and I wanted to check out Jackson Park etc.  The ride turned out to be very cool, but race prep took a very back seat to sight seeing and pretending to be a bike messenger in the big city.  Needless to say my late night re assembly did not show it's ugly head...yet.  Next morning my wife (I love having a cool wife that drives you around to do silly bike races) my daughter and some relatives took a long 2 hour drive to the race venue (thought it would be nice to show off to the relatives how cool cyclocross is).  I arrived at the race venue with about an hour to register, warm up and take the nervous bathroom crap.  My ego was stroked when the register guy announced that I was from district 5 (N Cal. N Nev) and maybe guys should take some notice.  Feeling pretty good about myself I took my 2 open laps with the other Cat 3 - 4 guys explaining to them that what they were calling a hill, we would call a bump.  The course actually set up for me rather well.  Two barrier sections not very technical, the "hill"  and alot of long straight grass sections.  I was convinced that I could do the whole course in my big chain ring.  At the start line the "love" I was getting from the fellas stopped and I found myself basically in the back row of 10 deep 7 to 9 wide.  SHIT.  We all know w/o a good start in cross it will be sooo hard to place.  Sure enough in the first section there was some "yahoo" who got stuck dismounting over the barrier and held the rest of the group up.  I found myself in about 50th place.  We got to the hill and whamm.... Guys were shifting so fast to their little chain ring that it sounded like a nudest colony stuck in zippered suits.  I bridged to the lead pack and realized that there were 5- 6 guys who had around 15 to 20 seconds.  Lap two I bridged to the lead group and realized there were two guys who took a flyer and had again 15 to 25 seconds.  One guy had some great technique and was "hopping" one section of barriers, I realized quickly he would be the one to beat.  Next few laps we all settled in taking some pulls, but "technique guy" stayed away maybe getting 30 seconds max.  Lap 6 came quick, which gave me alot of motivation, because if you do cross and laps are going slow..... man o man does it hurt, but if the laps are coming quickly you usually have a shot at placing.  I decided to try to bridge to "technique guy" and was caught in "no-man's land" when that little "oh shit" bell in my head went off.  I realized that through the last corner my fucking handlebars were coming lose.  You see... my late night re-assembly was about to ruin my whole race.  Yep...  Handle bars basically came off at the next barrier.  I shouldered my bike ran the next 1/4 of lap to the pits and pleaded with someone to produce an allen wrench.  Again, " no love" for the Reno guy!  Finally, some guy threw a cheap leatherman to me, in which I had to try to pull the correct size allen (freakn' bastard) from the cluster of cork screws etc. and I tighten my stem.  Got back on and figured out that I was now somewhere back in 60th place.  To add some salt to my wounds.... "technique guy" came up behind me and tried to lap me.  I had spent some much time (shouldering / fixing) my bike that he was about to LAP ME!  FUCK THAT!  He tried to get me on the barrier before the "hill" and even said something like "move over"!  I put the hammer down on the "hill" and gapped him.  Please place your ear muffs on........FUCK, SHIT, FUCK of all the times to have a mechanical, I just gapped the first place guy by 15 seconds (granted, I just had about a 5 1/2 minute break in the pits) but...... I ended up finsihing and looked back to see I had kept my 10 to 15 second gap on "technique guy".  I think I could have battled him for 1st.

Lesson learned: 

1.  Check your bike carefully before each freakn' race 

2. It is hard to travel and race

3.  Those guys (we all know them) that can always put together top / solid performances anywhere they are at, have tremendous talent  

4. Living at altitude with lots of hills and really fast local races, makes you feel really good in the midwest

5.  Competition brings out the "NO LOVE" clause in all of us.

I'm now ready to jump back into the local scene with the "fellas" and continue to tell them stories of how fast I was and how I should have won in Chicago.