Enduros are always tough. Every single one of them. It doesn't matter if it's the rockiest, nastiest, toughest terrain or a cart path- you ride them all as hard as you can, and you know it at the end. This particular course, the Caney Creek Enduro, is put on by the Trail Riders of Houston. It winds through the Sam Houston National Forest, full of trees, sand, whoops, and some nasty roots. Conditions were a little dry, but somehow the dirt had a touch of moisture in it earlier in the day.
The drive down was easy once I got rolling- the dogs didn't want to cooperate with me leaving for the weekend. But I finally hit the road - new goodies on the iPod and everything I needed to snack my way to Houston for a race. Since this was a solo run, I opted to run my stinger rack on the back of the excursion and tent camp it, banking on mooching an outlet for my box fan (Thanks Ryan). Camp was set, bike passed sound check fine, and check in was smooth and easy- row 41. The Reynolds crew was in full effect, so I had a good time kicking back in my camp chair and chatting over a couple cold pre-race beers - as Papa Pierce likes to say "It's just pain killer and carbos." Good times were had and we all called it an early night.
Coming soon: "Enduro Cribs"
I knew coming in to this one that there wasn't much elevation (climbs) or technical terrain to be involved. It would be just like a skinnier Cycleland- lean back, pinch the seat, clench your butt cheeks and shut one eye as you pin it a touch faster than you're comfy with. I'd love to see the pro dudes go balls out on this stuff, because they smoke me like a turkey and I felt like I was flying. I went off course once, and took a spectacular 4th gear over-the-bars sandy face plant right before I realized my body and brain were done communicating. That last section was exhausting- same stuff, just more of it, and you need to keep the pace up. I pushed through wanting to puke and gasping for air and got the finish as hard as I could- a feeling I'm growing more and more comfortable with thanks to CrossFit Solus. Dehydration was a factor despite the two Camelbaks I went through. Temps in the 90s and Houston humidity will inspire some cramps. It was strange to pull my fingers off the bars after they cramped on in a pure hillbilly death grip. I felt good about my ride, just a little nervous about that last section "fade", but at least I knew I gave it all I had- the moment of truth comes later when they post scores and hope it was just as rough for everyone else.
And that was a strange moment. At first, my score was incorrect, only giving me a ONE second lead. That's absolutely ridiculous, especially considering we were on course for 5 hours. We sent the scores in for double-checking, and mine came out corrected, but still only a six second lead. 6 SECONDS!!! It was hard to believe, but that was good enough to bump me into first for the Open B Class win! A great day of racing, and thoroughly exhausted drive home. There's just no better feeling than putting it all on the dirt and it paying off like that!
Memory Lane: MY first dirt bike was an 86 Yamaha IT 200...
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