Transylvania stage 4: Sweeping

So after two full days of leading the "Full Suspension 26 inch BMX" category, I decided the tiny bike wasnt going to cut it anymore. My body was pretty well ruined after yesterday. The doc took a look at me and sent me packing with enough Motrin to shrink Marlon Brando 3 full pant sizes. It helped a little, as standing up this morning was somewhat less dreadful than I feared.

I had volunteered my services (such as they are) to Mike and Ray the evening before, and they suggested that I could pull sweep detail - you know follow along in between starts, change flats etc.

I should probably mention that today is "mini-downhill day", or "Weir Gets To Wear His Hockey Jersey Day".

Im thinking that the minibike is not the best answer for tearing around after the pack while they ride on the road to all the start areas. I notice an old Diamondback leaning against the main office. I ask Mike if I could use it for the day.

It took me awhile to figure out why he said "yeah... sure" with such confusion.

You see, I wasnt just setting up a checkpoint and following the field around on the road - I was following them down each descent.


Pants, meet shit.


They staged everyone more or less according to category. There was a row of racers, some instructions via megaphone, then a Picketts Charge style dash for the holeshot. We (the sweepers) hung out until the last group went, then rolled out. Our job was to help out with flat fixes, broken parts, emergencies and course marker collection.

It was also our job to make it down in one piece.

Standing in the way of the latter goal was Mike Khuns Wifes '92 Diamondback. This once-worthy steed was fully rigid, had some kind of knobless 1.5 inch tires and old style toe cage pedals (without the cage). It did, however, have a suspension seatpost. I was in for it.

At first, things went really well. We picked up a few guys with flats, fixed them, grabbed a few arrows - it was rocky, but nothing too terrifying. I remember it being much worse.

It was.

I have never really ridden a rigid bike. My introduction to mountain biking was well after the advent of functional suspension. True, some people still choose to ride fully rigid bikes. But then, some people choose to watch internet videos of dudes pooping on each other.

My first foray into the good old days of mountain biking was a bone shaking journey down an old stream bed. This quickly became an active stream bed, and I was weaving around like a driver on Marthas Vineyard after the bars close.


I would like to point out that just at this moment, Jeremiahs (actually quite adorable) little boy came up to me and informed me that his daddy was "pooping in the bathroom". Solid work, little dude.


The rest of the day went mostly the same, long intervals of pedaling punctuated by brief periods of abject terror. The guy I was riding with said it looked like one of those police videos where they have already shot out the perps tires and hes still trying to flee the scene.

Dear god my arms got worked. It felt as though I had been running a jackhammer against a the floor of a bouncy castle all day long.

There were a few pant-dampening moments, but I was able to keep it upright and not get Mike in trouble for letting the guy who was most likely to destroy her use it on the most brutal stage.

It was great fun.

We must have fixed a dozen flats, searched everywhere for a missing camera, collected a bunch of dropped bottles, and took down about a hundred course arrows.


Unfortunately, there was more bad news for New England - Justin "Weight Of A Region" Lindine took a rock to the leg pretty hard. He is still looking good for GC, but send him some love... hes going to need it tomorrow.


In other race news:

Adam Snyders Excuse Post broke, so I think Weir is winning.
Weir wore a hockey jersey today. No shit.
Selene Yeager can well and truly kill a holeshot.
Someone in the "epic team" category is wearing a whole family of dead marmots.

I just ate half a chicken and two bowls of ice cream.