2008 XC: #6 Mtn Bikers New Shoes

"Those tires suck.”

I’ve gotten used to the not-so subtle ribbing provided by my new single speed friends. After multiple digs at my wheels, though, I finally asked why.

Apparently, if I had a better tread pattern, I’d be more confident on the downhill.

Fine. Sixty dollars later, I became the proud owner of spanking new Panaracers with a cool red sidewall. At least they looked spiffy, but I wasn’t sold on whether their chunky lugs would magically improve my ability. It was also maybe not a good idea to switch tires two days before the next cross country race, but I need to find excitement where I can.

Speaking of thrills, waste some time on the internet googling up Sue Fish. She’s a legendary world champion motocross racer who is now bringing her point and shoot navigation talent to bear on the XC circuit. I’ve enjoyed getting to know her while the Sport women hang out at the starting line waiting for all the guys to leave.

We both started racing cross country about three years ago. She’s learning to embrace the suffering involved in pedaling uphill, and I’m trying to figure out how to speed up on the way down. She’ll pass me on the descent, I’ll regain my balance, look up, and she’s gone already, raptured into mountain bike heaven.

We chatted again yesterday at the Rim Nordic venue. Up near Big Bear, this course featured lots of loose decomposed granite, hard single track climbs, and pretty mountain vistas. As we nosed our bikes up to the line, I noticed that Sue was running the exact same Kendas that now reside in my trash bin.

“Do you like those tires, Sue?” Since all racers' wheels were in one neat row, I noticed that lots of the women had somewhat balder equipment than mine. I started to feel like I had worn combat boots to a formal dance.

“Yeah, yours are pretty beefy,” she nodded at mine.

Great. Go. We were off, and as is customary, I left her behind on the first hill. However, I had an eensy teensy steering problem on one of the log bridges. I thought that surely she’d catch me since I had used up a fair amount of time scrambling back up out of the creek, but there was no sign of her.

I finally finished the tortuous climbs and headed back down to the finish. It was my favorite kind of return ticket: long, swooping, and sustained. It takes me a while to turn off the methodical, conservative, what-the-heck-are-you-thinking switch in my largely neurotic brain.

A long descent provides the time to actually start enjoying the ride.

Beefy. My bovine companions served me well on the sandy turns and loose gravel. I kept expecting my back wheel to slide out, but it never did. Second lap, same as the first, and Sue never showed up to show me up.

As the finishers hung around waiting for the awards ceremony, Sue appeared in street clothes. She had crashed into a tree early in the race, separating her shoulder. Ouch.

My warmest wishes for a full recovery, and my unspoken glee that my luggy bear tires quite possibly kept me safe.

As for the awards, I did win my five-year age group, take second in the decade span, and third across all ages for Sport women. Even with the creek dive.