Fontana Race Report: Dog poop, rattlesnakes, and moto-dudes
I've got a lot to learn.

Note to self: no matter how well you're doing in your first year of an endeavor, don't go about making your second year so difficult that it becomes work.

Winning nationals last year was kinda cool, but having to upgrade to expert for this year as a result, well, not so cool. Not that I'm afraid of hard work, but dang, these guys are fast.

I drove down on Wednesday. It only took me about five hours to get to the grapevine. It took another two hours to get to my motel in Redlands, which is about 15 miles east of Fontana. Got checked-in at the race on Thursday morning, kitted-up and in line for the shuttle. I got in four runs on the first day. I flatted on my first and third runs. Not a good day. I'd been running a folding bead tire in the rear, which was dumb. Bought a dh tire from the Kenda guy, problem solved.

Friday was uneventful. Some goofs and get-offs, but no major crashes. But perhaps the absence of a good crash should have been revealing to me. I don't think that I was riding hard or bold enough.

Race start times were posted Saturday afternoon. Our race started at 4:30. My start time was 1:39 -- 6:09pm, that's a super duper start time... As I'm walking up to the start line I see a four foot rattle snake slinking along the right side of the trail. I'd been walking up that side of the trail all day long. I was really glad providence found me walking on the left side of the trail right then.

I did my pre-race visualization and waited.

Holy crap, it was a tricky, technical course. The top section of the course was a nice, fast, swoopy bit of trail. The dirt was loose, sandy stuff with a few little rocks here and there to hop over. Then came the waterfall, which was a set large granite boulders running about 15-20 feet in length, with about a one or two foot drop at the transition between the two. Not a big deal at all, it was actually pretty fast and grippy. The big deal was the set-up before them. The good line had you putting your front wheel into a little 5 inch gap between a couple of rocks. Wandering off of that line meant getting unsettled on some rocks to either side, which is not the way to set up for a two foot drop followed by a granite face. Falling on dirt is one thing, falling on a big, nubby rock at speed is a whole different game.

So, off of the waterfall into a big sweeping left-hander, pop over a little cluster or rocks in the middle of the trail, maintain speed as you pop up a little rocky rise, over and down and up another little, narrow, rocky rise. Then the fun begins. Right turn through a rock garden, strewn with, well, rocks. No real clear "line", just a general direction. Drop it through a gap and hang a left up onto an off-camber, little six-inch ledge. You could see the rubber on the face of the rock from those who'd not quite carried enough speed to simply slam up onto the thing. Follow the good line wide left and hit the brakes (or not, if you're a pro/fast rider), drop down about a six foot face to a flat landing, go about 10 feet and drop another 6-8 feet, this time through a series of big, chunky boulders. There was a line in there somewhere, I swear there was. Look right, pick a rut, and turn to the left into a puddle of sand, easy on the front brake, get back over the rear wheel and ease it down a 15 foot face -- that with the local sand on it had become a bit slick -- and drop to another flat landing.

No time to think, look right, drop over and down a four foot boulder into a little gap between to good size ankle breakers, turn a quick left, bumpity-bump on the rocks, look right, shoot yet another gap, turn left into a rock chute, another right, another left, another rocky chute, into a flattish, off-camber dusty right. That was the best and worst of it. The remainder of the course was what everyone was calling "the wall". I called it "dog poop alley". The residents of the houses on the other side of the wall apparently toss their dog's poop right over that wall. It was rank. But hey, it made you wanna pedal harder.

There was another little rock section that you could go around, but I found that the best line was actually up and over the rock. This dropped you into a left-hander, down a little chute directly towards a big book of a rock right at the apex of the next right-hander. Drop over a couple of little four or five foot chunks of rock. Navigate around some biggish rocks in the trail, then hammer hammer on the remaining flat.

I crossed the line out of breath with no clue as to how my time was. Turns out that the beer-gutted guy in the hot seat held the fast time. His time: 2:32 and change, my time: 3:02. SMMMMMMMacK! Like I said, I've apparently got a lot to learn. No excuses, just gotta work on letting go and being smooth. Practice, practice. Learn some good habits and get a bit more bold.

The bright side of it all is that at least I get to go to the big show. Now if NORBA can only figure out where they're going to hold Nationals. There was scuttlebutt on the shuttle van about it being held at Angelfire, which is apparently in New Mexico. Ok. I'm in.

Where's the beer, I've got a gut to build.

Got to get a shout out to Pam for her excellent results. Way to go Pammer!

Michael

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