I am no longer a cyclocross virgin. The speed, mayhem, pain are addictive. It's no wonder as to why there are close one 70, 80, 90+ riders in a single category, because you do it once and there is no giving it up.Before heading off to the Wissahickon cross at Ludwig's Corner, I felt some practice and pointers were in order. I traveled deep into the mystic foothills of Conshohocken to sensei's secret training facility, where the art of foolishness and barrier hopping are taught to a select few. With my skill set strengthened, but far from perfected, it was time for race day.
9:00 Sunday morning. I am sitting in the prime position of second to last row as were were lined up by bib numbers. I guess that is the downfall of day-of registration, number 81. I had a lot of ground to make up, before the tape and the first turn. Really, my only plan was to flow it and have fun. However it shakes out was fine by me. The course was great. Hairpin turns, off camber sections, sandpit, and my favorite, the spiral of death. All in all, I clawed my way to 38th out of 97 in the C Men. This is the start of something, cross has me wrapped in its twisted web.