The 2016 New England cyclocross season began for me (and a lot of my other racing buddies) yesterday in Springfield, Massachusetts. If you like flat courses with about 3 feet of elevation change per lap (and that 3 foot hill was not rideable by most people when we were out there on the next-to-last race of the day), if you like breathing in several pounds of dust, if you like roots, roots and even more roots that would guarantee a flat if your tire pressure was at a normal level, if you like about a hundred deep, sandy 180 degree turns that threaten to devour your front wheel at any given moment and send you flying off the course, if you like starting the race mixed in with about 20 kamikaze-crazed kids that seem to have no fear of crashing or respect for their elders, if you are at least 55 years old and if you like sunny, hot 90+ degree temps, then this was the race for you!
I’ve always enjoyed this early season contest that the Cyclonauts Racers put on each August at Blunt Park. It’s a good test of equipment, body, heart and soul. It’s also a good reality check to remind you what aspect of racing might need some attention before the bigger races coming up just around the corner. Equally important, it also gives you an idea of where your competition is at in their quest to beat you senseless over the next 5 months. But most of all, it’s a great opportunity to hang out with my cyclocross friends. I haven’t seen most of them for more than half a year.
This community is unique in a lot of ways. Yes, of course we all try to beat each other every race and will do almost anything to accomplish that. However, we’ll hang out before and after the event, catching up on each other’s lives, injuries, work, retirement, equipment changes, training, vacations, whatever, but once the whistle blows, none of that matters. It’s a huge motivation to beat someone who races at my level or above and devastating when someone beats me that is ranked below. So many things can happen during the race to change that dynamic – crashes, flats, dropped chains, getting stung, stopping for a beer handup or a selfie – that there is usually nothing entirely predictable about how the final results will shake out when all is said and done.
The other fantastic thing about the cyclocross scene is that it includes men, women, girls and boys of all ages and abilities, usually separated into their own field (except for this race). I know entire families that do various races over the course of one long day. In how many other sports do you see this other than perhaps bowling? Yesterday, one of those kamikaze juniors was in my race. Jaden Wise is a 13 or 14-year-old boy who probably weighs about 75 pounds covered in dirt and sweat. I’ve had the pleasure to watch him in many of his 45 races over the last 4 years. Cheering him on were his mother (raced in the last race), father (raced in the first race), sister (watched), grandmother (watched) and a few other family members. This kid beat me to the hole shot, refused to give an inch and managed to stay ahead of me for the first half of the race. Meanwhile, I’m getting heckled by some of my “friends” for letting a junior beat me. Hats, or shall I say, helmets off to you Jaden. I think I see my future and I’m not sure that I particularly like it.