2020 Snake Time Trial #1
I started eye balling the weather about 5 days out, and it was looking kind of promising. A little rain on Thursday, ending Friday and dry with sunshine and temperatures around 50. But, in true Snake fashion, that changed. The rainfall totals increased and it was projected to rain all day Thursday, Friday, and into Saturday morning. Luckily, the temps were still around 50 but falling throughout the day to the mid 40's.
This is an off season race and I was coming off of a near death experience with the man flu so I didn't have the highest of expectations; I just wanted to have fun and keep the rubber side down. One of those things were achieved.
The night before the race, I was busy getting everything ready, deciding on what to wear for the weather, planning nutrition, mixing bottles, and tuning the bike. Just kidding, I didn't do any of that the night before because I SUCK AT PLANNING ANYTHING! I was actually busy getting my Napoleon Dynamite costume together for the costume going away party we would be attending later that night.
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| PC: Pappa Bradley |
My alarm went off at 5:30 the next morning. I grumbled about all the things I should have done the night before but instead opted to play dress up. Slammed some espresso, gathered my things, and walked out to pouring rain. Excellent. Left the house and picked up my pre-race nutrition, which was a sausage egg mcmuffin and hash brown from McDonalds. I always like to make Carey proud and live up to the nick name that she has given me, which is Dirty Diesel. I met some friends next door in the Cracker Barrel parking lot and followed them down.
It rained nearly all the way there but stopped around the time we pulled in. First light was starting to show over the horizon. I grabbed my number plate, put my crap on, and took a bag of dry clothes/shoes to Brad's truck which was going to be transported to the finish line.
I hurried over to the 34 mile start at about 7:50 because I wanted to be one of the first few out. Being a time trial, you go out one at a time, not a mass start. I figured being one of the first few out would make some of the muddier sections just a bit easier because of less traffic creating ruts and softening the mud. I think that was a good plan. I also had intentions of just keeping a steady pace for the first 17 miles and making sure I had some good power remaining for the last 17 miles which is the harder section with a lot of rock gardens, several of them being uphill.
I chatted with friends Susie and Jim Farmer at the start, as well as a few other guys I knew. Everyone was in good spirits, given the conditions. I was actually kind of excited about the muddy conditions and raging creek crossings. I was maybe 6th or 7th bike off the start line. It starts down a muddy service road littered with large mud holes that you have to skirt around. I caught up to Richie Daigle and said hi to him. We crossed "dry" creek which was no where near dry. Luckily they now have a portable bridge that spans, well, most of the creek. It was so swollen due to the recent rains that it wouldn't quite reach dry ground on the far side. I plunged into the chilly water without touching the brakes, ready for shoes full of water. I picked off a few more people before my buddy James Dunnaway caught up to me and passed me. I knew better than to get on his wheel; he's crazy strong. I said farewell to him and watched him disappear up the 1.5 mile John's Mountain climb.
We reached the first single track at the top of the gravel climb, which continues up into the woods. There was a single speeder behind me huffing and puffing because the steep, wet trail littered with baby heads (small loose rocks similar in size to baby's heads). I asked if he wanted around. Nope. He stayed somewhat close to me as we navigated the wet leaves, mud, and rocks on the steep trail. By the time I hit the top, I noticed he had dropped back. The sun was starting to peek through the dense fog and was causing a crazy bright orange glow through the trees; I wanted to take a picture but I didn't want to stop or slow down to do so.
I hit the ripping fast gravel descent, sort of floating on top of the freshly poured loose limestone gravel. I saw someone approaching from behind. As we started the next climb, what looked like a junior passed me on a bright pink hardtail. Holy shit, he was flying uphill. See ya, never, probably. I hung a left and started up pine needle hill which gave way to another smoking fast single track descent on the other side.
I hit the Pocket Road crossing where I saw Craig Lawson cheering us on. It's always nice to see a familiar face in the middle of nowhere. From here the single track got a little soft with the leaves and mud. Uphill, it feels like all the power is being sucked out of your legs and you're going no where. Another guy soon caught me, and it was Whit McDonald. I don't really know him but we know of each other. He's a strong rider too. I told myself "don't do it" and let him roll on. I was still playing it safe and conserving. He ended up having a really fast time for the conditions. Strong work, Whit!
Started up the next long climb, which is Horn Mountain, after cleaning the muddy switchback at the start. This climb is about two miles; it starts with one long climb, descends a little, then there are a couple of more shorter, steeper, more technical climbs. A really strong single speeder, Rusty Wallace, caught up to me on that section. I let him around but ended up riding with him and chatting for a while. Once we hit some technical descending, I asked to get around him and bombed down to the Highway 136 crossing which is at Snake Creek Gap proper. This starts the more technical section which is the last 17 miles.
Because this section runs largely on the spine of a mountain, it drains very well and doesn't really get muddy at all. I passed through the parking lot, skipping the sag and waving to Craig, who had moved to this spot because he was following his wife, Noel, son, Brady, and the other National Interscholastic Cycling Association (NICA) kids. I began the 1 mile climb up to the top. At one point, there was a river running down the middle of the trail. I could see Rusty behind when I'd look down from a switch back, but we seemed to keep the same distance apart the whole time.
Once on top, I felt good. I started to pick up the pace a little. Unfortunately, I look down and my Wahoo (bike computer) was dead; I guess I had left it on and drained it because it should have had plenty of juice. I walked a few steep, technical sections; I had cleaned them before and it was very slick today so I had nothing to prove to myself. I also think it wastes energy when you get into a technical section and start to bobble and put forth a ton of effort to try to save it without putting a foot down. I just end panting and pissed off that I didn't clean it. After pushing up one section, I threw a leg back over the bike. Unfortunately, the planted foot slipped as the other leg was swinging up and I landed directly on the back tire with one of my, jewels. Vomit was close, but it didn't happen. The pain, ohhhhh the pain. But it subsided as I continued down the trail.
I made it to the long descent down to a creek the crosses back and forth across the trail several times. I plowed through all the water as my feet were already soaked and numb so, meh, who cares. It slowly turns into sloppy service road from here. All the 17 milers had already been through here too, making it more worn and sticky than my first 17 miles. I dropped down a short, steep descent into a sweeping right turn that then turns right back uphill. The bright sun was dancing off the mud in the turn. I knew it was slick. I've seen friends go down there before. I felt the front tire pushing to the left and bike starting to lean right. I waited for the tread to hook up. It never happened. I took a silly spill onto the drive side of the bike. I laughed and hopped back up and got right back on. I started pedaling and all was fine, until I down shifted for the hill. I guess the impact had bent the derailleur hanger bad enough that shifting threw the cage into the spokes and mass destruction ensued.
I pushed the bike up the hill to a level area of ground. The back tire would not even roll. I could hear air leaking from the tire as well. Well, SHIT!! I started inspecting the damage. There was a broken spoke. The small piece at the hub side had slid out into the cassette and was keeping it from spinning. No free wheel. The hanger wasn't actually broken but badly bent, along with the cage. The tire was now totally flat. I began working on removing the derailleur and making it a single speed in order to at least finish the race. I had no way to cut the shifter cable or remove the cap on the end to take it out of the derailleur. So, I got the piece of spoke out of the cassette so it would roll, replaced the wheel with flat tire, let the chain and derailleur dangle, and pushed the bike for about 40 minutes up to the sag station at Stovers Creek Gap. Teammates Carey Lowery and Eric Hile would eventually come by, asking if I needed anything. Carey poked fun about me not being on single speed, as she shifted her gears!
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| Carey topping the hill, shifting her gears |
At the sag, Craig had just showed up there; third time I had seen him today! He and another gentleman were nice enough to take me to the finish line. I chatted with friends about their races and had a beer or two, as well as some chili, thanks to the awesome volunteers! I hitched a ride, with some friends, back to my car at the start. Even though I had a race-ending mechanical, it was still an awesome day and I got to ride about 25 miles. I was most bummed that I had to miss the last 8 miles, which is my favorite section with all the rock gardens and technical terrain. But, I still had a sweet costume party to look forward to with my lovely wife!
Thanks to Trek Store Chattanooga, Rescue Racing, and all of our awesome sponsors. Thanks to all the volunteers who make these events happen.
Congratulations to friends Carey, Monica Dejardins, Starr Affolter, Noel Lawson, Ali Whittier, Eric Hile, Spencer Whittier, Brad Cobb, James Dunnaway, Nick Nichols, Bob Seitz, and Whit McDonald on podium finishes. Sorry if I missed anyone.
We suffer for the animals! If you or anyone you know is interested in pet adoption or just making a small donation to the Charles Smithgall Humane Society, please visit our Rescue Racing Website
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