Grounded...

So...The past two weeks have flown by. When I last posted, I was on my way to Aspen, CO for the final stop on the NORBA National series, and effectively, my final race as a pro in the US. Thursday, August 10, I was supposed to fly after work to Denver, pick up a friends car and drive the remainder of the way to Aspen. Well, just like this whole year has gone, surprises happen when you least expect them...
Thursday night after waiting seemingly forever for my plane to arrive from Atlanta, my flight was canceled. The flight from Atlanta never made it off the ground due to weather. Keep in mind, this was also the very same day where the Terror Level went to Red. Because so many people missed their flights due to "increased insecurity" that day, the soonest I could get a rescheduled confirmed flight was Saturday morning. I tried everything in the book. Different airports, different times. Different connections. The closest I was getting was Santa Fe, NM before Saturday. With that in mind, and a sick feeling in my stomach, I canceled my flight and hence my final race On the NORBA circuit. This was not supposed to happen. It was the last time I was going to see many of these people, and somehow I felt robbed.
After pulling myself out of a depression on Friday, I realized that while I may have missed out on that opportunity, but when one falls away, another arises. After studying the schedules online, I found the perfect racing supplement locally, Howell Mountain Challenge in the hills surrounding Napa, CA. Perfect. A local race on the dirt with a good field of local pros. Excellent preparation for what is coming up on my schedule.
I arrive on Sunday morning after spending Saturday visiting with many relatives scattered around the Napa valley. I am feeling better than good. I know the race is going to go well...I can just feel it.
Long story short, I had the race of my life. I had a great start, set a good hard pace. I dropped a lot of people, and then worked on shelling the remaining trailers in the opening minutes of the race. About eight miles into the first of three ten mile loops, I was descending a fire road at a high rate of speed. My front wheel clipped a tree branch and kicked it up into my rear wheel where it got stuck in the spokes. It managed to rip out a couple of spokes before it forced itself onto the frame and managed to break my frame in two places. My race was over, and my weekend was nearly a complete failure with catastrophic results. The good in it all was I was okay. I did not take a "dirt nap" or have an "agricultural experience." Despite the frame breaking at a high rate of speed, I managed to keep the bike upright and safe from danger. The one shining moment in this whole thing was I looked at my stopwatch when it happened, and I managed to gain over a minute and a half in not even a full lap...and I was just starting to get'r goin'.
I was as far as I could be from the start/finish line when this happened...so I had quite a hike to get back. On my journey, I managed to run into my good friend and now boss, Gary Erikson, owner of Clif Bar. He too had a mechanical that day. We had a great chat on out hike. It had been a long time since we had spoken. Some things were meant to be I guess...
Enjoy your time with your friends, when you can...
Sorry, no pictures this time...my camera is still packed for Aspen. Maybe I will bust it out before I head off to Mt. Washington, NH next weekend, August 17th.
Till then...enjoy the ride...