Well, that morning out frankly sucked.
Just came back from 'cross#4, what should be the last race of my season. There is a 'cross#5 next week but I'll be at the TriCan AGM in Quebec City, where I'll be, well I have no idea. Sitting around looking quorum-y I suspect. We'll see.
It was a sunny day, but windy down at the 'cross. Temps in the single digits below zero, the wind-chill significantly below that. Still, a nice day once you got going.
The course had become frozen solid, fast and sketchy. The downhills were solid ruts which maybe (or maybe not) were going the way you wanted to go, the carry had steps frozen into them. So swings and roundabouts.
I replaced the brake-blocks last night, as both sets had essentially worn away in the previous three weeks' mudfest; from the brake-blocks point-of-view it was like braking with an abrasive compound. I didn't get a chance to pre-ride the bike after fitting the new pads but something had seized and neither set of brakes was working well this morning. I did what I could but they were well short of stopping power when I was on the hoods! At least they worked well from the drops; they needed a bit more pull than usual but at least I could stop!
I just wasn't "feeling" today's race. No rhyme, no rhythm. I don't know why, or how. It wasn't the cold, I was fine with that. The first I realised something was wrong was when I was fighting, and I mean fighting, just to get past someone when he veered left and took the kids' path around the barriers.
Oh yeah; this was the true embodiment of Unholy Rouleur's 'cross horoscope; a Cyldesdale fighting with a 14 year-old kid on a mountain bike for DFL. And it was happening to me.
I managed to stay upright down the descents through the ruts, only the single crash behind the fence. Given the amount of pull I had to put into the brakes, I was going very wide in some corners and lost a lot of time just bush-whacking! I can't blame the brakes though, I could handle it and they just made the course more sporting. Frankly I was going through the 'cross motions. I thought I had another lap left, but I was pulled. I'm sure I got through the finish line just before Espy came steaming through, but the commissars didn't see it that way. So I got four, five laps? I wasn't breathing hard or even sweating when I finished. Woo-fucking-hoo.
There endth the 2010 season, with a whimper, not a bang.
Dan had a meltdown in the cold too. He was riding OK, finally realised what the 28 was for but he is obviously going to be a martyr to cold hands. So that makes tears in three out of four races for Dan. He says he likes it but I suspect he's just trying to please me. Maybe he shouldn't be mountain-biking after all. Maybe we can find something he can master immediately and do indoors. Competitive movie-watching maybe. Anyone want a brand-new Kona Firemountain; 17" frame, discs, 20 kms tops (pretty much enough to bed everything in, no major crashes)? It's a bit muddy now but she'll clean up real nice.
So all in all, feeling decidedly m'eh with the day so far, and it's barely lunchtime....