Muddy Mirage

Holy shit. What a muddy course.

The course at Taneytown favored the strong and the smart. I was neither. After I blew my wad trying to get up to the front of the race, I realized that perhaps I had too much air in my tires, not enough tread, and that I was a horrible bike handler. The sopping wet 9am course was practically 50% mud, a majority of which was 4-7 inches deep. Add in a few off-camber sections and I had myself a miserable slopfest. I started getting hung up on the fact that I wanted to ride through sections that were impossible to ride, which ultimately had me dismounting from a dead stop in peanut butter-thick mud. I then tried to make up time in the sections that were slightly more rideable, which is where I found myself sliding and falling all over the place. In the middle of the race I rode directly over some plastic rebar that was supposedly there to hold the tape up and define the course. I used it like a stripper pole for my bicycle, straddling and grinding on it with my bottom bracket. You had to be there, I guess. With all the mistakes I made, I was just happy to be able to cross the finish line in one muddy piece and I headed off the the hose to clean off the bike. Being a wrench, I figured I would be a pretty effective bike washer. I stood in line for a while shivering in my warm-up jacket and mud-caked embrocation, relishing the thought of my super efficient bike wash. I had it all planned out in my head and scoffed at the others' lengthy turns at the hose. It was finally my turn and I did everything I had planned out in my head. Chain, cassette, crank, wheels and even the underside of my saddle all met with the icy blast from that Taneytown spigot. I completed my wash in about half the time that the others took and arrogantly handed off the hose to the next guy. I proudly looked at my bike as I was walking away expecting to see a sparkling example of how a proper bike wash should look, but what I saw instead was a bike still half-caked in mud. I may have gotten the majority of the grass clumps out from behind my bottom bracket, but I still had turf and muck packed in my derailleur pulleys, shifters, and pedals. As my bike dried off, a filmy residue of dirt revealed itself as well as my mediocre bike washing skills. The course itself was a blast and I honestly did enjoy my experience in Taneytown, but be warned that if you're anything like me, the mud mirage is a dangerous beast. It'll have you tripping over yourself in a race-crazed stupor and perpetually cleaning your bikes. I hope it's dry at Reston...