Boise 9 to 5 Race Report from Hamilton Smith!

La Niña – I suppose it is a theme we will all carry through 2011. Pushing 20 meters of snowpack in the Tetons, it has been a winter few of us will soon forget, though the extravagance of exceptional skiing wore thin on the minds of those planning ahead! Skinny tire ride after skinny tire ride, bedecked in every fathomable layer a cyclist would dare haul out of the winter gear closet; hat, balaclava and neck gator were not the exception, but the rule. All the while, I would do my best to turn my eyes and ears from the blogosphere, as car after car full of local cyclists packed up and rolled towards sandstone single track, and hey…50 degree temps, maybe? The disappointments would keep coming, as the ominous dark cloud of the Cascade Cream Puff 100 ebbs ever nearer. Cancelation of the Garden Creek Gap was just another notch in the imperfect spring of 2011, when plans and preparation were just not to be. Hence, having tossed planning for spontaneity, 8 hours in the saddle in any form was not a choice but a necessity. Enter Boise 9 to 5, single speed category.

Not one for the Groundhog day-like effect of repeated laps on “short” courses, this was not a natural choice for me. But with Mom living on the East side of town, I had logged a bunch of miles on the Boise foothills (proper) in the past, all gravelly smoothness; sliding fast, bermed corners, and generally loving the undemanding terrain, save spinning out on the kitty litter wherever the trails tipped up. Outfoxing myself once again, I carried this expectation into the 9 to 5 weekend, hurriedly scrambling to find a Chris King crown race in time to fit my rigid fork back onto my frame, where a perfectly good (spanking brand new) Fox RLC F29 was mounted. Rolling out midday Friday, feeling very satisfied with my accomplishment; the thought of a pre-ride of the course had not even dawned on me, nor had the wisdom of dropping the squishy fork in with the gear.

Following my first ever Le Mans start, which turned out to be a cordial prance around half of a soccer field amongst chuckling participants, I wound up in the front pack, amongst those champing at the bit to get onto the narrow single track ahead of the peloton. A flicker of white, black and red out of the saddle and pinning it, would become the unshaken visage etched into my lenses for the rest of the day, a speedy single speed rider out of Ketchum, Mike Shane, to whom I was an unsavory 0-2 against in past races.

The hamster wheel effect did not set in right away, only because the initial canyon ascent was flowing, with intermittent rocky attention-getters. You couldn’t totally check out, but rhythm could be found on the climb, and the light and responsive rigid fork still made sense. Descending, on the other hand was really fast, and put the full shimmy on bike and rider, early laps I think my joints were up for it. But these were not the Boise foothill trails I’ve been riding for more than 10 years, now. NO! This ride essentially epitomizes why suspension was invented in the first place…and yeah; arms, wrists, joints can absorb the shock…for a while.  I was pinning it hard enough to keep up with the Ketchum carrot such that by lap three I started to feel the cross-eyed sensation of losing good control. One technical section I easily rolled over on Lap 1 and 2, turned into a front endo and a trip into the sumac on Lap 3. Now, getting yer butt hauled out of the creek bottom by a dude mid-pass, is humiliating enough, but in retrospect I should have thanked him on Lap 7 when I made back the position I lost there!

The race within the race is easy enough to define; a thoroughbred out front, one of the Cutters in 2^nd(me) jersey splayed open, Hammer junk all over my face, wondering what grassy hummock was hiding my inevitable personal time bomb; and a clever teammate coming from behind with a Phd in race technique, carving away at a lead that I never once had an accurate accounting of. All I know is Mr. Byers had not made it into my over-the-left-shoulder status check; but I knew he was right there on the brink! Fortunately, the trip into the Sumac was the kind of wake-up call that demanded I start reigning in the risks and the output, and look for some consistency. I rode into first place, ever so briefly late in the race, hearing, “You’re not supposed to be here!” from Mike. Together, we took over the leading single speed racer at that point, Chris Pace of some other racing outfit from Jackson (heh, heh). It was a memorable racing moment; steepest climb of the course, a double pass with no looking back. Unfortunately, Mike could put a minute into me on each descent, without a thought. The rigid fork had taken its toll, as I nearly lost the bars all together through one section of brake bumps, and realized that there was no amount of lead I could take while climbing, that he would not easily overcome. To make matters worse it was all descent to the finish line. I focused on staying upright, and rolled into the finish 2^nd – one minute behind Ketchum Mike, with Byers closing in for 3^rd just moments later. So, the Spring of La Niña had an unusual silver lining, a rad race in Boise, more composure than I usually exhibit, commitment to fueling and drinking made easy by laps that pass right in front of your own personal aid station, and my very own niña (Aila) got to join daddy up on the podium, with a cuteness factor I can only hope begins to make up for my inability to gather enough strength to go find my dang team vest prior to the awards ceremony!!! (Mea Culpa) Huge shout outs go to all of the Fitzgerald’s Team there representing, always offering up tons of encouragement throughout the race. There were tons of Tetonians from both sides of the Pass that made this a home-away-from-home kind of a race. I highly recommend Boise 9 to 5 to anyone considering some early season racing fun.

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