http://moosecross.blogspot.com/

Don't worry this article will relate to hang gliding competition sooner or later.

Last week I entered two competitions. One was billed as just sort of a ride, so I didn't know for sure that it was in fact a race until I got there. The other I knew was a race and a race of a kind that I had yet to learn about.

I got notified of the races at the Fitzgerald Bicycle Shop in Jackson and encouraged to go to them. Just sort of, heh, these are cool things, you should go. Okay, I thought, perhaps.

Last Wednesday evening I rode out to the bottom of Spring Gulch Road just west of Jackson and east of Wilson, Wyoming where it meets highway 22 (the busiest highway in Wyoming). Road racers were already milling around waiting for the 5:30 PM start. I didn't exactly fit in in my Wills Wing tee-shirt, bike shorts that hide the Lycra, and twenty five year old modified Davidson roadie. Besides I wasn't a local, that's for sure.

I had brought my "second" road bike, the one with straight handle bars instead of drop bars, and 32 mm tires instead of 23 mm ones, because I knew that there would be four miles of washboared gravel road at the end of the 26 mile ride and I wanted to be able to ride fast and sure through it without getting my tires pinched. Still that left me with a bit slower bike and a harder ride for the first 22 miles. Not to mention that I looked quite a bit out of it. Sort of like bringing a king posted glider to a hang gliding competition.

Well, all these guys knew each other and they probably all go on the Tuesday evening ride (6 PM from the Jackson junior high school) and very soon after we start I'm way behind the peloton. But I'm cranking away at my speed and enjoying the beautiful road, even as it gets a bit rough as the pavement goes away.

About five miles into it, a couple of women riders, who started late pass me and I start sucking the wheel of one of them. This gives me an extra two miles an hour, so that I can maintain 16 mph as we slowly climb to Moose. Pitiful, but at least I'm hanging in there. They ignore me completely. Old guy on a ragged bike.

We round Moose and start going a lot faster heading now down stream back to Teton Village. We even pass a moose grazing next to the road, which is pretty cool. I've been breathing hard most of the ride, but I don't seem to care that much, so I just push as hard as I can to stay up with these women.

Finally we get to the gravel and the road really is terrible, much worse than I remembered it, but now I've got the bike that can take it on. I race down hill, get on the gravel and I never see the two riders who helped me get here as fast (or slow) as I did again.

I make it to the Teton Village, but almost everyone has dispersed (I'm only a few minutes behind) and the race ends in a small no host dinner (which I don't attend) at the Mangee Moose to give out the trophies. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride/race and it got me what I wanted, which was another opportunity to ride and get some exercise and see some nice country.

The next evening at 6 PM I'm at the bottom of Snow King Ski Area in Jackson attending a clinic on cyclo-cross racing. See here and here for explanations of what cyclo-cross racing is.

I really had little idea of exactly what I was getting into in the upcoming race on Saturday in Victor, Idaho, just across the Teton Pass. But I was here to learn something about the techniques involved.

The Colorado state champion from the previous season (September is the start of the season as this is a winter/wet/cold/muddy sport) taught us how to mount and dismount the bike, in order to be able to run/jump over the barriers/hurdles. Seems like there would be a number of those in the course. We also learned how to carry the bike over the 18" high barriers. It was all pretty straight forward.

I had brought my Davidson bike again, as it looked to me to be the closest thing that I had to a cyclo-cross bike, but it was no match for the specifically designed bikes that I saw at the clinic. Still, what did it matter? I was learning something at this clinic and joining in the fun with a dozen others, some on mountain bikes. I knew mountain bikers were encouraged to join the competition.

After the clinic I ride my bike the seven miles back to Wilson and I'm not at all sure that I will sign up for the race. I'm worried that the bike won't be able to handle the course. I'm not sure if I'll have to wear my leg brace or not. All these guys are twenty to thirty years younger.

Still I sign up a few minutes before the advanced registration closes at 10 PM Thursday night, after all it's only twenty bucks, and I get a free beer glass with the Moose Crossing logo and a free ticket to Oktoberfest at the pub across the street from the race.

Friday night and I can hardly sleep, which is common for me before a competition. I'm concerned about whether I should switch bikes. The cyclo-cross bikes have much wider tires than the ones on my Davidson. I'm worried about whether I will screw up my knee. I'm not certain which race I should race in, masters or beginners.

In the morning it's completely overcast and raining, lightly, and, cold, of course. Looks like I won't be going racing after all. Perfect cyclo-cross weather, but not for me.

Then at 10:30 the sun comes out. I decide that it's time to go racing after all, even though I'm a little late. I pull the pedals off my Trek 4500 cross country mountain bike and replace them with the Shimano clipless pedals from my Davidson. I also pull off the bottle cages, throw the bike in the back of the truck and we head off over the pass.

I get there just in time to do one lap of the race course. I'm pleased to find out that I won't have to wear the brace. I think I can manage to keep from tearing my ACL's. The wind is blowing 20 mph out of the south east.

The race is set for forty minutes. The number of laps is determined by the leader. The judges determine how fast the leader is completing the course and set the number of laps after he completes two or three laps. When the leader finishes you stop the next time you cross the finish line.

The riders line up six abreast for my race and only one other of the riders has a mountain bike and his is a lot like a cyclo-cross bike. This is the masters class (both plus 35 and plus 45 classes together) and it's pretty clear right away that there are a lot of younger, experienced and fast riders in this race. Maybe I should have waited until the beginners race.

The gun sounds and we're off pumping hard to get to the single track and the Chicanes, which really slow us down as we turn sharply in the dust. I start off behind and pretty much stay there. Coming out of the Chicanes, there is big push from the tail wind that really spreads us out. Going back into the Chicanes after going once around the track we are slowed down to a crawl into the wind.

The race is great fun with lots of jumps and banking turns in the dirt. We run through sprinklers on the edge of the golf course and soon we are covered with mud. The barriers are easy to run over just using the techniques that we learned on Thursday night.

In the end I come in second to last in front of an overweight 60 year old. I got lapped twice by the winner who lapped the rest of the field once.

Belinda and I hang around and watch the rest of the races. The beginner women are next and only the fastest women have cyclo-cross bikes, most have mountain bikes. It's obvious that almost everyone is new to this. One of the women  is cycling in tennis shoes, which really slows her down.

The beginner men are up next, and again there are lots of mountain bikes and cyclists without Lycra (Lycra makes it much easier to get back on the bike). I should have joined in a second race.

So, as I trust you can see, competition can be fun and it doesn't matter how well you do. Get out there and enjoy yourself. Try something new. Most hang gliding competitions have Sport Class that allows you to fly with your king posted glider.