Missing ‘Cross

I am going to miss cyclocross.

Unlike its more mainstream cousins—road and mountain racing—’cross exists within a very small window. An entire season of racing is crammed into an 8-12 week frenzy of sand, mud, grass, rain and snow, and occasionally, even sunshine. The racing itself is, even in the most amicable conditions, superfluously absurd. Rain and snow and below-freezing, stinging wind only make the absurdity more acute, more apparent, and yes, more enjoyable. The more ridiculous the weather, the more grin-inducing the racing.

Photo by Christopher See

There are just 2 remaining races in the Utah Cyclocross series. 2 races to figure out how to ride off-camber, slippery mud. 2 races to attack off the line. 2 races to crash and flail and limp through. 2 races between now, and the dark, cold reality that bike racing in 2011 is actually, and officially over.

Then what?

Well. Skiing of course.

Nevertheless, the prospect of creamy powder, mountain sunrises, and white room O-faces isn’t, presently, enough to ward off the gloomy fact that it’s nearly time to hang up the bikes. Eventually the skiing will crowd out the two-wheeled ambition. Eventually. But not yet. After all, there are still 2 races left.

2 races left to chase Mark and Rick. And Seth. And… nearly everyone else.

2 Races. That’s 2 hours. 2 hours in the pain cave. The muddy, freezing, damp, pain cave. 2 hours of gritty suffering, and greasy, shifty 50/50 corners, off-camber traverses, and high-speed barriers. 2 more chances to improve. Or to implode. 2 more mornings of nervous, anticipatory, expectation.

I am going to miss cyclocross.

But before it’s gone, I have 2 more opportunities to pretend that I’m a competent ‘crosser.