The
OVCX Darkhorse/UDF/Biowheels Cincinnati three-day weekend are the races I look forward to every year. The highlight of my calendar, if not that I'm targeting them, because I'm necessarily not, it's just that I relish the chance to race in front of my parents and friends from back home in Cincinnati. Even if I earn mediocre results, as I tend to do in these Cat. 2/3 races. It's also a nostalgia thing --
my first 'cross race ever was at Harbin Park -- and back then I did pretty decent, earning a 7th place (out of 15...'cross wasn't so popular then).
Chris, Dave and I left Chicago Thursday evening in the pouring rain -- rain that would soak Friday's course in Devou Park in Northern Kentucky. Speaking of fond memories and nostalgia: Devou Park was the place I always took my lady friends to appreciate the view of Cincinnati's skyline. Or something like that.
At the course, we parked next to
Greg Heck from xXx-Athletico, hung out for a bit, then got changed into the kit to warm up. Chris and I rode up a few hills, but didn't bother going out onto the course due to the ridiculously muddy conditions. Every single bit of the grass sections of the course had been torn to shreds by the earlier races -- and the rain that was continuing to fall was making things worse. But, since cyclocross cherishes those muddy days and races, the mud was something to relish and enjoy.
I had a decent start and tried to stay ahead of the pack as it surged down the muddy embankments and off-camber sections. There was a ton of running because things were so slick that it was impossible to ride; I crashed five or six times, about once per lap, often at a near walking pace. It was slow-going, technical, and tough. I passed my teammates about halfway through the race -- Dave dropped far back with a rolled tubular, Chris was 30 seconds behind. I got 29th place, the best result of the weekend.
Chris drove me over to my dad's house after the race and I celebrated my grandmother's birthday with her at Bella Luna. Everyone from the race went to a burrito party, hung out with
Molly Cameron, and drank Burger beer. Though dinner with my grandma is always a good time, I'll admit that I was a little jealous.
Saturday the skies were clear and the air cool for the second race of the weekend at Sunset Park in Middletown. Sunset Park is a small, tight course that is deceptively long -- the organizers pack a ton of course in. The race started on an uphill climb and entered into the park on a wooden ramp. Descending down the grass, one entered into a sand volleyball court with a 180 at the end.
See my video of the pros riding through the sand here. Then the course hit a series of switchback off-camber sections followed by a nice muddy section behind the fieldhouse. There was a lot going on -- and it required lots of accelerations followed by hard braking and turning. On and off, on and off.
I felt good going into this race, I was warmed-up, but about halfway through the race, about three laps in, I started sliding backward. Chris passed me first, then Dave a lap later. I couldn't maintain contact and in the last lap I lost six places. I just didn't have it. A
jour sans, something we all get every so often. 41st out of 55 finishers.
That night, we all went down to Mainstrasse in Covington for a mediocre meal at Cock & Bull, followed by Goldsprints at the Strasse Haus. In a match with Chris, he started whaling on my arm while
Mike Chewning shoved money in my face. Not surprisingly, I lost the sprint.
We woke up Sunday to some serious cold -- a reminder that winter's on its way, as if cyclocross season wasn't enough. The group got to the race and we were all complaining and crabbing. Dave was sore, Chris was hungover. I actually felt good, albeit just tired from racing and serious post-race hang-out sessioning. The three of us warmed up and I chugged a Coke, my preferred pre-race drink.
I managed to snag a call up to the front of the start line, which is not only intimidating, knowing there's 80 racers behind you, but that I totally don't deserve it. I'll take it every time, if only to get me off the pavement faster and onto the dirt and away from any stupid crashes.
At the whistle I sprinted and was fifth place going into the grass. At this point I was passed by most, if not all the Cat 2 guys, and I settled into something of a steady rhythm punctuated by the awful climb toward the finish line and sandpits. Someone said that no other 1/4 mile takes so much out of ones' self -- and that's entirely true. The grass sucked the will and speed from me, but as it did for everyone else. The rest of the course was a great time, with some power sections, a short, hard climb and that amazing descent into the back section of the course. Four laps to go, I crashed on a corner and
Katsu passed by me, yelling encouragements.
At the end I outsprinted one guy but was unable to get past the five other riders just seconds ahead. My loss, their gain.
I managed to finish 48 out of 63 finishers, and likely 70 some starters. Definitely not my best result, but one I feel like I put everything into.