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The Flaying in the Forest

28.4.2016 08:24

The 2016 MTB season is upon us, or, upon me. It snuck up on me a bit between work and family visits, so my solid training in February turned moderate in March and "minimalist" in April. It was less training and more the platonic ideal of training. Road pros show up in Europe for 8 mos a year and then go home. Those of us who live here; well, we have things to sort out beyond where the internet comes from and the cool coffee shop to go to.

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This delayed start to the season meant that when the weeks got short towards the start of the Kolo Pro Zivot (Bike for Life) MTB Marathon series, I realized I still had to build my bike. Luckily, I got it sorted and did one whole ride done on it before race day. I couldn't really justify very high expectations, but I was there anyway with 700 or more other riders crowded into the start grid next to the Beroun river in beautiful Dobrichovice. 
 
For those of you who are not reading this from the Czech Republic, the KPZ series is one of several MTB race series in the country. There are, I think, four marathon series, a national XCO series and several smaller series, and a few Enduro series too. This place loves the mountain bike. I was talking to the manager of a Mexican team in the bike wash after the race, and he said they came every year to start their seasons because the quality was very high here.
 
I could have chosen to go to Cesky Raj ("Bohemian Paradise") instead of TransBrdy, and then I could have raced another marathon on Sunday. But taking the train to Dobrichovice was much easier than Cesky Raj so I chose KPZ. The second thing you should know is that you can take the train to pretty much every race you need to get to. It's great. No traffic, no maps, no arguing over gas money, no trying to figure out if you need to bring your buddy's training wheels or just the bike he's going to race on. Just go to the train station, get on, put your bike in the bike area, and relax until you get to the town with the venue. Then you find the start and you're good. I went from Brno, where I live, to Prague, to the race, all for about $10. Thank you Ceske Drahy (Czech Railways). 
 
The race itself, which is why you're all reading this, was crazy. Total distance: 58k, or 38 miles and 4500ft of climbing. The course was a mix of fire roads, paved roads, and single track that would have made a New Englander proud for all the rocks and roots. Held on the Brdy ridge (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brdy) the race was, as the link describes, one continuous forest, punctuated not by army bases, but by small cleared sections where one could look off and see some really amazing views to the Northeast and Southwest. For those of you not in oxygen debt, I highly recommend it. 
 
The race was also well attended, as all of the KPZ races are. Nearly 700 pre-registrants for the long course, some of whom are familiar if you've ever looked at the MTB XCO World Cup, or watched the MTB Olympics from London. Last year, Jaroslav Kulhavy won. This year he was on the start line again, a week after getting the cast off his broken arm. Kristian Hynek (Topeak Ergon) was also on the start without having broken anything. I was just there hoping not to break myself. 
 
 
Jaroslav Kulhavy
 
The gun goes off and I try to figure out how to get past 300 guys on a neutral start. I don't realize the start is somewhat neutral and I try to find a spot to move up, including the very "euro" - hop the curb maneuver that you've seen from the Tour of Flanders. After that, it's ON and a slugfest. There are only so many clear lines up the next two long climbs - which start right away, and I do what I can to make up spots. The field breaks up and it hurts, but I go ok, trying to make contact with the next group on the 40mph paved descent through the forest to the second climb, which gets progressively steeper until it's essentially a wall. I push, and after that, it's all about trying to find a group and stay there. 
 
The next 10-15 miles (or "forever") are on fire roads on the top of the ridge. I trade pulls with a guy on a Specialized for maybe 5-6k, then we catch some others, and have a group. The impetus goes out of that, so I go with another guy and we push, and push. In the intermittent singletrack, I can ride comfortably through the rocks and roots - something I am not accustomed to be able to do since I last raced a MTB in 1999. But I also notice I seem to be getting lower and lower on the bike. Then I see my seatpost has slipped. I curse my one ride on the bike before the race. Though I am with a good group, I choose to take 45 seconds and duck into the first tech zone to try to raise and tighten it. 
 
Believing I can catch back on, I give it full gas and slowly try to winch myself back. Around the bottom of the course - at roughly 30k in, I find the first of a series of really steep descents thrown into the event to keep things "interesting." These are very steep, and strewn with logs and rocks. I got into this one, as I did several others, and had to remind myself that bailing out would be more dangerous than just going for it.
 
We turn for "home," still close to 20 miles and four big climbs away and I do my best to drag myself up a long, paved climb. I can see my earlier group maybe 45 seconds up the road, mostly because I can make out a tall guy on a Cannondale Scalpel with bright green socks, but I can't make contact. I am also without water. For some reason, I was too slow to the feed, and there were only cups of drink available, no bottles. I'm now starting to crack, and I'm a bit dried out. At the top of the pavement climb, we hit another of those crazy descents, and I'm still "in it" but "it" is feeling more and more like survival mode. 
 
I know I'm getting closer to the finish, not because of what distance my Garmin tells me (I'm too scared to look at that), but because I know the views I'm looking at. At one point, I can look across the valley and see Karlstejn - the home of King Charles the 4th, who, for those of you who have visited Prague, is the king who built Charles Bridge. Race day is also the 700th anniversary of his death and the woods are filled with hikers. Luckily I do not hit any. 
 
At 40k, I pass the split time station. Then we hit the first of the three final climbs. I give it my best, and try to make spots back on those ahead of me, but it's slow going, I make it to the top, only to be passed by the guy who I was chasing the whole way up. I am beginning to question whether a 36 was a wise choice for the front chainring. My seatpost has slipped back down.
 
More steep descents I'm at the foot of the second to last climb. I'm continually amazed by how fast the bike will go, and how much less fast I seem to be able to let it go. This is what I keep thinking, because that's all my mind has capacity for. Up the penultimate climb and I'm cramping in muscles I didn't know I had. I'm trading places with a guy whose jersey looks like he's from the old Roger De Valminck Brooklyn Chewing Gum team. He is faster than me on the descents, but I can come past on the climbs. I'm also constantly being passed by a guy on an e-bike. This just adds insult to injury since I can see that every one of those extra watts from the motor is in use and they all make me feel worse that I don't have a motor.
 
Into the final descent and I'm sweeping down a tight gully at 40kph like young Aniken Skywalker. I make it to the river, and drag myself as fast as I can go towards the finish. By "drag" and "fast," the words I'm looking for are "through sheer force of will" and "snail's pace," respectively. Over the pedestrian bridge at Dobrichovice and I'm thinking it won't be long now...into the race finish area...and oh...we have to do a whole lap of a big field. I realize my fork lockout is on. I am passed by probably 5 people. I limp across the line. 
 
Despite my pain, not being able to bend over, cramped legs, and slipping seatposts, etc, it was an awesome race. 3 hours of really full-throttle riding in some amazing country. The bike held up well, nothing fell off, and I think I probably was 10 min faster at least than I would have been on another bike. I am told I should be happy with my place. I'll know better what that place was once I can see straight.
 
Next week: Hustopece. The race will be 10k shorter, but have nearly as much climbing. Based on the race photos from last year, I'm going to call this "the Rumble in the Rape Seed."  

Thanks for reading
 
Gordon Daniell

foto: archiv KPŽ

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