Cycling and crashing are the kinds of things that come together whenever you liberally combine Newtonian Physics, skill, and overconfidence. In other words, I’ve been falling off my bike for nearly as long as I’ve been climbing on it.
One of the more memorable crashes of my youth involved the commute home from my high school and a lady driving into the parking lot of the local grocery store. Her car and my bicycle momentarily occupied the same space, a physical impossibility whose only opportunity for resolution lay in the boot of her car, and that’s precisely where I went looking for it. Another time, the right-front braking on my first real race bike helped me disprove the theory that I might be able to achieve sustained human flight. The resolution of this particular question also led me to learn how to re-cable the brakes on my bike and embark on my quest to perfect the wrapping of handlebar tape.
Some of these early lessons and their subsequent visits to emergency rooms and time spent nursing wounds led me to better understand where the limits lie that convert harmony between rider and machine into chaos. More importantly, it gave me an appreciation that descending and cornering at speed, while thrilling, provide limited reward with respect to the risk. Some might call this wisdom or maturity, but I like to think of it as something marginally more productive than refusing to learn from one’s mistakes.
It is the human condition, however, to become accustomed to current levels of risk and that we continue to push boundaries. We refer to this phenomenon as “progress”, and with progress comes an inherent sense of overconfidence; it is in our nature to assume that since we successfully pushed past the previous boundary, that the one that lies before us will be passed with similar ease.
It was with this confidence that I entered the first of three ninety-degree corners on lap four of yesterday’s Magnuson Park Cross race. During recon and the previous three race laps, I had recognized the risks of this first corner; leaving a fast section of tarmac, the course re-entered the mud and grass as we circumvented a tennis court. It would be easy to carry too much speed into the corner and loose traction on the flimsy, low-pressure cyclocross tires.
With each lap, the speeds increased, and with each lap, I successfully navigated the course. The riders around me were tiring, I was moving up in the field, and gaining confidence with each lap. On the section just prior to the first of the turns, I took an opportunity to pass a pack of slower riders from another category, set up for the corner, relaxed, and readied for the challenge presented by the upcoming muddy sections.
I felt it long before anything happened. It was one of those notions that enters your body somewhere between your senses and your brain and lingers there before turning sideways to make sure it’s noticed as it passes through your system. The tire in the front wheel depressed as I leaned on it – then folded over. I spent an eternity in limbo between the rider I had only just been and the rider whom I was about to become.
I aimed for the dirt, it seemed softer than the tarmac. I don’t know if I hit it or not, and I’m not sure what caused the rather deep gash under me knee, or the double-loop in my chain for which I could find no remedy at the trailside. What I do know is I was in a heap and the riders who had been enjoying my ample draft suddenly found themselves similarly on the ground, though for different reasons. Several cursed at me, one postulated that my mother had been unmarried at the time of my birth. While he may have been wrong about the specifics, he was certainly right in his sentiment: I was a fool who didn’t understand his own limitations.
It seems fitting, then, that I was the only rider I took down who failed to finish the race. Next time, I’ll aim to go just fast enough not to crash out.
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Some of these photos aren't making me miss racing cross so far this year...
@czmiel
absolutely precious Frank
Awesome and funny write up.
At first, I was thinking, no..not necessarily so, as I am the inherent skeptic at heart, but your right, there are times we are treading a thin line between total awesomeness and absolute idiocy. In fact, I have absolutely seen it as everyone else has...someone get by with something (a corner too fast, bunny hop and not hit a huge pothole etc) and look totally with it and skirt the line. But, when you do cross it and not get by, you really eat humble pie.
Overall, however, that is the art of cycling in this regard that you write of. As we seek total PRO-ness, as we grow and mature as cyclists, we do attain a skillset that DOES NOT take chances yet pulls off some seemingly PRO-found prowess & serious skill. Again, though, whether its a descent at killer speeds, or cornering, on wet pave', or whatever, for the PRO its natural, and not necessarily a risk...they have it. Sometimes, we prove we do not.
@frank
No truck drafting. Mostly dump trucks on that road.
@scaler911
+1 to beer (and bacon) handups - For those of us who suck at CX but do it anyway, they are essential to the sport.
@G'rilla
Right you are. And infinitely better than this.
@Ali McKee
Depends on how much you ride your MTB, but you should have both. Its such a different sport, you can't compare the two and they are both awesome.
Depending on where you live, though, a CX bike can afford lots of backroad gravé riding, which is equally awesome.
@Buck Rogers
Aside from getting off on the wrong side, knowing what I know now, he's using great form for this. As J-Pow says, stretch out all the movements; he comes in fast, waits for the dismount, gets running and the just makes a slight but spectacular error in judging the height of the barriers.
Solid gold. Still makes me laugh every time.
@Ron
Pish posh. Crashing is part of the fun in CX, like it is in MTBing and alpine skiing. And usually the landings are softish. I'll advise you again: don't be afraid of crashing. Just commit to the ride, try to avoid it obviously, but just let it happen.
The best way to find your limitations is by moving past them.
@scaler911
We'll have to see if we can't make that happen, but timing is rough for me this Fall; I'm not even getting to the races in Seattle if they're more than a half hour away...that will have to change for next year.
@Souleur
Precious? Precious? You mean "totally badass" right?
@frank
Thanks for posting. Jo-way's ok . . . I thiink.