Last weekend was the mud run, grit filled, my toes are numb Mercer Cup Gran Prix of Cyclocross. The rain had transformed the course for Saturday morning into a thick bog. Bring it on, mountain bikers are completely at home in this stuff. Again, my day of registration earned me a lousy call up in the starting grid. Far, far in the back, with very little pavement to help me work into position before the trudge began. I picked my way through the bunch, crashed twice on some tight corners and fought my way up to 54th in a field of 81. Time to kick back, watch the course worsen over the day, see how the pros get it done, and do it all over again tomorrow.More rain overnight, prompted a partial closure of the course, but I feel as though I thrive in this stuff. The second day wasn't so much as a bike race as it was a foot race. Many of the false flats and lower sections were just unridable. I have never had to pedal so hard to go downhill. My lungs were searing and the metallic taste of blood was starting to creep in. Despite all of the mayhem and exhaustion, I pulled out my best result yet for my rookie year of cross. 28th
Tim Johnson rolling home with the Satuday win in Elite Men.
Killing it in the sandpit.