|My cozy little pit|
Drizzle and at times a steady rain fell as the hours wore on. I was in the woods though, so I was happy. My 4th ride on my El M. Ti was going swimmingly and the 'Racing Ralph's' had me hooked up as if the Scwalbe guys called the Stump Farm's trail designers before they started production on the tires. It was really that good.
Thinking through my strategy as lap 8 was coming to a close I decided I absolutely had to pit as my drive train was groaning and I needed to grab another bottle. We moved through the pits together, I stopped, he didn't. A 30 second stop left me with a lubed chain and two fresh bottles. Tyler had nothing and I knew he'd be going into lap 10 dry as a bone. This would be my chance. I left the pit with him out of my sight, but I had every thing banked on him cracking. I was scraping the bottom of the barrel myself as the last lap seemed to go on and on. Then, without warning a 30 mile distance racer went down hard in front of me and slammed into a tree. This was a nasty looking crash. I needed to stop to see if he was o.k., so I did. Seeing this rider "eat it" like he did put the racing second as I thought for sure this guy was heading to the hospital. Surprisingly, he was o.k. I pushed on hoping against hope that I'd see the familiar jersey I'd been looking at for the second half of the day. Alas, it was not to be. The next time I'd see that jersey would be when the owner of it was unclipping his helmet and shaking my hand. I came in two minutes behind Tyler for 5th overall. It felt good to hear him say, "I was so scared you were going to catch me". So cool...
I never have a problem losing a battle to a classy competitor. This would be the case at this year's Stump Farm.
|One sister helping another|