I rode the course the day before, and observed a few sandtraps and thick loamy downhills, but gave it little thought. It was a bit dry, however the dust cloud behind me looked rather minor. But as the race got underway Saturday morning, hundreds of rapidly churning wheels kicked up the soft dry road surface, and within seconds we were enveloped in a thick cloud of choking dust. Visibility was 5 to 10 feet as the pack surged forward. I guess the first 10 riders must have been OK, but the rest of us couldn't see where we were going. 20 seconds after starting, a huge pile-up occured in front of me - bodies and bikes flying everywhere. I narrowly avoided getting caught in in, and dove far left, only to get mired down in a 6 inch deep trough of sand. I was stuck in this for a while, unable to see what was coming up as I blindly forged ahead. Finally things thinned out and I started rolling normally. Heart rate was maxed from spinning in the sand, and breathing was ragged and gaspy.
A short loop back to the start area, and the single track began. I was amazed how unclogged the trail was - quite a difference from Sport class, where I was continuously frustrated by overly-amped starters who wailed for the first 2 minutes, then died in the bottle-necking single track, slowing down everybody behind them. But what was good about Sport class was I was usually a front-runner and had the run of the trails. In Expert though, seems like there's always someone nipping at your heels.
We were to do 3 laps of this course, which is at least 90% singletrack. Passing was available in short stretches of fire road. But I found everytime I was stuck behind someone on some downhill section, waiting to pass them when we got dumped out on a road, they knew what was up, and would floor it to the next piece of single track. So I never passed there - would take too much effort - in fact didn't pass much at all. Got passed quite a bit though. I knew this race would be competitive, as it would seem a lot of the Bend uber-athletes who normally don't race mountain bikes, decide to do this race as part of their training or something [more on that later]. And the course isn't very technical, what many would call a 'roadie' course.
As I finished my first lap, I was greeted with a chorus of "Go Marc!" and other chants from the numerous spectators. This seemed a little strange to me, until I looked behind me and saw Mark, the mechanic at the Web Cyclery bike shop who sponsored the race. Oh, so it's "Go Mark"! then. I yelled that I was Marc[k] too, but I don't think they got it.
Started the second lap, and the temperature was climbing up there. I was thinking it was going to be a long hot dry day. But I had 60oz in my Camelbak - should be plenty ? The ony thing I hate about Camelbak's is you're never really sure how much you've got left. Bottles you can see it, but with Camelbak's you put your hand back there and heft it up a bit, but you're never quite sure... The dust is taking its toll - my lungs feel raspy, and my left eye's vision is at 50%. I finish the second lap at the 2:07 mark- a big improvement on the 2:20 I did last year for the 2-lap Sport course. Still feeling pretty good, but definitely slowing down a bit. I try to catch up to riders I see in the distance. It take me at least half-an-hour to catch one guy, and after I pass him, it seems like it will take me another half-hour to get away from him. I push it on some of the downhills, and am on my own as I get close to the finish area. But here's the fun (or annoying) thing about this course : once you get near the finish area, the trail starts to do freaky things like loop back along itself, and has a few clover-leaf like loops that throw you out half a mile before you come back again.
I had felt the Cramps creeping up in the last few minutes, and had started chugging lots of fluids to keep them at bay. But in the first finish area loop, they hit hard and fast. Less than 10 minutes to go, and all of a sudden I'm going at half-speed, trying to fight them off. Guzzle, guzzle, stand a bit and try to shake it out. They're persistent, but I know from experience that they magically go away, usually when climbing up something. I keep waiting for the guy I passed to catch up to me, but I guess he was hurting too. The pain is abating, but then I feel that strange sucking sensation that means my Camelback is out of juice. No problem though, only a few minutes to the finish. Look behind me to make sure there's no late surgers, and cruise across the finish in a time of 3:11. I see everybody is caked in a black layer of sweat and dust, and realize I probably look the same. Take off my glasses, and hey I can see again! My time is good (or bad) for 12th out of 19 in my class. I'll take it - especially with this tough crowd.
Now about that Bend uber-athlete phenomenon. Here's proof : every heard of Steve Larsen ? Well, he won the Expert class, finishing in 2:37. This guy was US mountain bike champion at some point, and now finishes top-10 in Ironman triathlons. He even has a mountain bike tire named after him for chrissake ! So this is what you have to deal with in Bend. It was pretty funny hearing everybody bitch about it on the on-line bulletin boards today. Some people basically calling him an asshole : "No wonder he wasn't chosen for the Olympics, he has no honour!". Give it a rest. Personally I think it's kinda cool that I'm racing with someone of that calibre. But I guess if you finish second maybe it's annoying...
So all in all a great 38-mile dust-fest race. But next year, I don't mind if they add a few bucks to the entry fee, and bring in a water truck to douse the road at the start. Oh yeah, they ran out of drinking water too - but there was a refreshing keg of cold beer :)
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