Traveling Through Time; Racing 'On the Rocks at French Creek'

I love French Creek State Park. This place has been a part of my life for as long as I care to remember. Looking back, Some of my fondest memories are of camping here with my father and my brothers. Throughout the nineties we camped here regularly, year round. As kids, we'd go for a hike and when I picked up running in High School, we'd explore at about 7:00 mile pace. As a young teen, it was awesome to be out there in the seemingly endless wilderness. The feeling of freedom I found while exploring these trails is a memory that remains fresh in my mind. My love of French Creek was forged in these explorations.

After High School, life took me in a different direction. The camping trips came to an end and it would be nearly a decade before I'd find my way back to French Creek. I'd long since hung up my racing shoes and I found myself yearning for a competitive outlet. Enter: cycling.

One day in the fall the fall of 2006, I walked into LoweRiders to change my life forever. I treated myself to a modest singlespeed 29er - a bright green Kona Unit 2-9. One of the first places I took that bike was to the trails of French Creek. I went there alone - which I never do, even to this day - as if to take a ride into my past. As I pedaled through the trails of my childhood, I brushed shoulders with my future. In a fleeting moment out there in the wilderness of French Creek that day, I found my true love...

.....

I was perplexed about how nervous I felt Saturday morning. Kim reassured me, but that only helped marginally. The drive to the park was pure torture. When Kim joked that she might lose her breakfast, I chuckled nervously to downplay her nerves but secretly I thought the same thing. It wasn't until we got on our bikes that they subsided. After that, everything just felt right. Before Kim and I parted ways, we shared our good luck sentiments and reiterated our goals to finish the race in one piece.

On the start grid I found myself oddly relaxed as I sat upon my top tube, waiting for the green light. Marcus started his countdown; 3, 2, 1, GO! I had a decent start hitting the singletrack just inside the top ten.

(entering the Single track with Ron in tow)

For the first few miles, I felt great sitting in 5th place. Felt great, that is until I was on the rocks at French Creek - literally. At the bottom of a fast decent, I hit a rock garden with way too much speed. My bike went left, my body went right. I slid head first across some rocks while my bike came to rest upside down in the middle of the trail. It's too bad I didn't have a camera. All I've got to show for it are some nasty bruises and abrasions. Luckily the only thing that came home in two pieces was my bike... considering the speed at which I crashed, I'll gladly take the $50 replacement fee for this lever blade...
It took me a minute or so to collect myself, and get back on the bike. In the meantime the race was still going, Mike Yozell and Cameron Dodge caught up. Apparently I looked a bit disheveled because both of them kindly checked in to see if I was OK. Shook up, I persevered and rode with Mike for the rest of the first lap and part of the second. I don't think I ever fully regained my composure out there, and Mike's descending skills were way too hot for me to handle... On the second lap he rode away from me and I was relegated to sixth place for the day. I feel like I was very fortunate to have finished the race and the sixth place finish was a nice bonus.

Looking back on the day, I think Marcus designed the course this year with one intention: to punish people... I picture him sitting at a table on Wednesday night, with a beer in his hand saying: "eff em... I'm making this year the hardest yet." I think he succeeded...

Our Mother's Day recovery couldn't have been more perfect...
Hope you had a good one. I know we did.