This past weekend, I spent three days riding and racing at Whiskeytown Lake, a good four hours away from the mid-peninsula suburbs. The race left me beaten, bruised, and too sick for school but my spirits are high from an all-time best weekend.
To us coastal dwellers, who are unfamiliar with the possibilities of true mountain ranges, Mount Shasta is a shocking site from the I-5. Driving north, towards Redding, coming over a gentle rolling hill, one’s eyes land on the bewildering presence of a true mountain peak on the horizon. Solitary against the faint blue sky, snow looms on the 14,000 foot high beauty miles ahead. Although this is not the location of the Shasta Lemurian Classic Mountain-Bike race, it is the source of its name. Local folklore tells of a secret city deep beneath Mount Shasta and its people, the Lemurians.
This race has been held every year for 23 years now. It is hard to find hard documentation of the history of the race. I have found that it was originally held in 1987, in the French Gulch area of Shasta. Tragically, that area was devastated by a wild fire in 2004, with 26 families losing their homes. After this horrible incident, the race organizers relocated the event to Whiskeytown Lake recreational area
My performance at this race wasn't very important to me. Getting to hang out with friends and ride bikes for three days was priority numero uno. Going into the race I reviewed my goals: 1) Have fun 2) Don't crash 3) Finish. There are three course options, 26, 20 and 8 miles. Last year I raced the 26 mile course as a beginner. This year I chose to take it easy on myself and do the 20 mile course, which is fairly typical for sport riders. Funnily enough, both courses do approximately the same amount of climbing (close to 4400'). The longer route just as an extra six miles of flattish single-track.I have no regrets about doing the shorter course. Honestly, I felt like it was just as fun as the longer course. I remember smiling a lot during this race. It was most fun I'd had riding my bike in a long time. Lemurian has some of the hardest climbing I've ever ridden. There are long extended climbs with obnoxiously short but steep pitches that hit you when your down. Perhaps it was because of my relaxed, non-racing mentality that day, but I felt good, I felt great on all of them. Where most guys were pushing there bikes, I was the squeeky little voice saying "excuse me, rider back".
The downhill at Lemurian is interesting. The swoopy singletrack is often times in creek beds, where there are plenty of roots and rocks. Coming back to the starting area there are many crazy steep, rutted out (read: ground is falling out in a crack running parallel to the trail), loose chutes. Right around this time in my race, I was being passed by the pro/expert men. About every 30 sec, one of them would be heading screaming fast towards me, usually in one of these chutes. I resigned to letting them pass, and running my bike. Safer for them, safer for me. We did go back the next day, and I did get to ride all the tricky sections.
Two hours, 45 minutes later I was crossing the finish line. It was pretty cool to hear "first female" as I rode through aid stations. Even cooler was coming in 26th out of 70-something riders, mainly men. Winning overall female for the intermediate course is a big highlight for me this year. Especially since I went out there not thinking about racing, but of riding my bike and having fun.Oh and the real highlight of the day: A guy had passed me on a downhill section right before a paved road, dam crossing (literal: riding a paved road along a dam to the next section of trail). Once we hit the pavement I passed him. He was a big guy too. As I pass he says "Is this where your roadie skills come in handy?" I didn't know such a "big man!" could be such a baby. I replied "I'm not roadie, I'm just not a downhiller."
