I’m stoked that our boys defended our turf in The Werst Race. The giant climb up to Morgan Lake was mini-epic, as usually. This time it was the first ever organized race, and The Mon and Rad Doc reigned supreme. I’m sure the wicked-fast running competition and pro bike ringers were surprised by our local prowess. Both Mon and Rad had mechanical problems on the climb, but still kept the rocket boosters thrusting for the gold and silver finish. We relied on our intimate knowledge of the climb and then dialed in just the right bike set-ups for the clutch ascension of Morgan Lake Road. The premise of the race (bike v shoe) was truly a challenge to the very nature of cycling, but our local heroes defended our honor. After all, going to Morgan Lake on a bike would be a fruitless endeavor if it were faster to just leave the bike at home.
As for me, I pulled off another great pre-race preparation by tapering 3 straight days spending most of the time in bed with a fever and knives in my throat. I really wanted to do this race though, so I figured as long as I could stay upright on a bike, I’d do it. No seat is better to watch a race from than a bicycle seat. I’m really tired of being sick though. Usually, once a year is all I can stomach, but this seems to be the same sickness that others in the region have gotten, which reincarnates itself after a period of wellness. So I’m assuming this is the second wave, and I won’t be sick again until sometime near Memorial Day next year. I really need to race at full-strength sometime soon. I have a triathlon next weekend and Mt. Hood the following. I’ll be fuming if I’m not close to 100 percent soon.
Four runners passed me on the climb, but that obviously isn’t going to stop me from talking smack on behalf of my cycling compatriots. Getting passed by a runner is both impressive and eerie, probably because it never happens to a cyclist. Let me describe it. The sound of the breathing is very similar to a cyclist passing. In fact, I thought it was someone on a bike until they got right beside me where I noticed a distinctly different gravel sound, that of a quieter staccato crunching rather than a consistent crunching by bicycle wheels. Then, you’re staring at the entire backside of someone instead of just their ass. The situation reminded me of the Marathon in Athens where police escorts were on their mountain bikes following the lead runners. The only difference was that the police there were leisurely pedaling circles around the runners whereas I was bent over like a racer, heaving and trying to grab a heel.
The runners were very impressive. I guess you lose site of reality on a climb via bike to Morgan Lake. Normally, I would think I’m moving fairly well. After the beast passed me during the race, I started observing his movement. I soon realized he looked like he was moving very slowly on the steep terrain. In turn, I realized that my bike and I were only barely advancing upward, probably teetering just slightly on positive side backward/forward movement scale.
There is already talk of a rematch next year. For now (and we’ll take all years previous), we’ve got bragging rights to “The Cliff” and we’re going to enjoy it. I was impressed by everyone who completed the race. And, the race organizers are to be commended. It is a great concept and a great race. We’d love to do this again. There is talk about a different starting point or a head start for runners. Cyclists are willing to negotiate, provided the climb doesn’t involve a route that requires ropes . . . but we may even consider that too.
