The Longest 3 Miles

I glanced down at my computer. It said 142 mph. I didn’t even know that it went that high. That’s pretty fast. Especially on a bike. It’s downright extraordinary when you consider I hadn’t even clipped in yet. Still had a foot on the ground too. I knew this was going to be a tough race, starting out this fast.

That’s what wireless bike computers do for you. Give you a clean look without wires everywhere. Make it easier to change wheels, move computers between bikes – and most importantly they let you know when there are cancer causing radiation, radio waves, and other such invisible nastiness around.

It was at the chicken dinner road race so it’s no surprise the computer was messed up. It did start right by the dump. You know, where they secretly bury nuclear waste.

The race started with a biggish hill (1/2 mile?) with some steepish pitches (12%). We went up easy the first time and I felt pretty good riding near the front. Got squeezed a few times, but that’s ok. Continued to ride near the front for the next few miles as some Lost River guys drove the pace a bit. Eventually I got shuffled to the back. I wasn’t too concerned but decided I needed to move up as we approached a few hills and tight turns. I took an inside line along the shoulder up to the front 5 or so.

When I get there someone says ‘you got a flat, just heard it’. Another guy says ‘yep, it’s going down’. Eff. Yup, this road doesn’t feel near rough enough for Canyon County. I pull off. Air is half gone.

The wheel car pulls up. ‘You got a wheel?’ the wheel guys asks. I didn’t, long story. I think to myself ‘self, you could grab someone elses and chase back on’. I think out loud – ‘ummm’… Wheel guy asks again ‘you got a wheel?’. I say ‘No’. It ain’t always easy doing the right thing.
So I swap out the tube. I use my car key. Left the tire iron in the car. That’s a little ironic. Takes a few minutes. Seems like ages. I get passed by like everybody. Sucks for me. I pull out just in front of the 4/5 guys and start my 50 mile individual tt.

On the start/finish hill I pass Kafka (the slower one), and catch Gary Casella. We ride and chat a bit, but I wanted to ride faster. I catch Mark Bockenstette and ride with him a bit too, but eventually move on. I see a group ahead 5 guys. This may be a good place to ride it out. Anthony Fisher, Carl Arriola, Brad Turpen, Cory Marsh, and Scott White. We noodle with the 4/5 group a bit and I inadvertently ride away from them. I eventually catch and pass Gene Harding, and Darren Lightfield (I think), and then Travis Kocain (I think).

During all that I pretty much hurt. It pretty much sucked. My legs cramped up and muscles popped out that I had never seen before. I think I had my face set to grimace about the entire time. Sometimes I set it to agony. I thought about a lot of stuff. The goofy ass tactics in the 4/5 race that were unfolding around me. How much I hate bee’s. How easy it would be to quit each of the 4 times I rode within feet of my truck. How nice it was of Kevin’s wife to hand me water. How it says Specialized like 26 times on my bike. They should pay me. How I really need to put wheels in the wheel car next time. How glad I am for sunscreen. How glad I am to have an excuse for sucking again. How I may need to get off and walk on the final climb. How they get Dick out of Richard.

You know, the usual stuff.

So at the finish I look down at my computer. 3.81 miles.