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High Altitude Classic, Cloudcroft NM NMORS #2<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
fficeffice" /><o></o>
At 9000 ft. elevation, weather will happen!<o></o>
Looking to avenge my oil-soaked suspension, cactus, and way off-course disaster from a few weeks ago at the Coyote Classic in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1lace><st1:City>El Paso</st1:City>, <st1:State>TX</st1:State></st1lace>, I loaded up the trusty Jeep Cherokee for another round of racing. The NMORS (New Mexico Off-Road Series) race schedule has got us doing 3 races in April - an intense early start to a long season. All the courses I've raced on have been good, hard, technical and long - though I haven't ridden all the courses yet. The course in Cloudcroft was described to me as high alpine, moderately technical and would favor a hole shot in the beginning. Cloudcroft, sitting way up in the <st1lace>Sacramento Mountains</st1lace>, is a cool mountain village whose downtown features and old-west style commercial "strip" with false-front looking stores and a covered boardwalk. The event sponsor, the High Altitude Outdoor shop was on the corner of one of these rows and made for a perfect event "stage" right in the heart of Cloudcroft. I arrived the day before the race, picked up my registration packet, t-shirt, and a course map and description and headed out to pre-ride. While in the shop, I ran into a fellow FooMTB.com buddy, Mike from <st1:City><st1lace>Albuquerque</st1lace></st1:City>, and planned to ride the course together. As we casually got are gear together we talked about the weather - and how it may be on race day. Earlier in the week I'd seen reports of a 20% chance of light rain/clouds, and thought that'd be OK, all things considered. Mike let me know the chance of precipitation had doubled to 40% and it'd likely be SNOW! Hmmpf. Seemed like a long shot given the perfect weather we were having at that moment, so I hoped for the best. <o></o>
<o></o>
Course: From downtown, right in front of the shop, we headed out from where the race would start from. 2 blocks make a left and BAM! The first climb, up another stretch of road that turned to dirt shortly thereafter; not too bad, but at a race pace it'd be a sprint around the corner and up the road and the beginning of the pain. This was the critical hole-shot area, as after 3-4 minutes we took a hard right onto singletrack, continuing a moderate climb. It was narrow, rooty, and rocky, so a strong start was essential. Not my forte, but I'm working on it. After about 15 minutes climbing total from the start, the trail eased off a bit, then dropped some. This pattern continued up and down for the first third or so of the course until we came out near a campground and turned onto a dirt road for a bit. It was smooth and fast, making for a great place to try and regroup if the start goes bad. After a mellow 10 minutes or so, things changed rapidly. We turned left onto a wide, flowy singletrack that started off going down at a mild slope, but then must have gotten a steeper as we were flying in no time! The best part was that it just kept going, and going, and going. It was clear we'd descended way below the elevation at which we started the race, and the descent continued. Going at about three quarters race pace, I still registered 32 mph; pretty fast for a XC course indeed. It just went on and on, swooping around corners, up embankments, over small whoop de do's, diving through heavily wooded areas, out into meadowy areas and so on. We finally hit the bottom at which point we were dumped out onto a dirt road turning up to the left. Up indeed, we had a lot of elevation to reclaim! Taking easy it took about 20 to 25 minutes to climb this dirt road, which wasn't the end of the climbing by any means, until the last leg of the course turned us off to the right, up more, but on fun, techy singletrack. This part of the trail was beautiful - technically demanding but easily rideable. We crested a small hill and dropped some more out into a small field, were led to bear leftish, up the hardest part of the course. This was fantastic! A hard, steep, technical climb over roots and rocks, that was relentless in the first quarter mile or so of it, then eased off a hair, then punished yet more. It sort of crested up the embankment of an old jeep road, where we turned left and rode about 200 yards down (breath, eat, drink!) then dove off the road to the right, up and into the woods again. A bit more climbing and out we popped into an open dirt ball field type area, directly across from the initial singletrack the whole race started at, after the road climb. Nice! This was a hell of a course, about 8.3 miles which had the beginners doing 1 lap, Sport 2, and Pro/Expert 3. 3 laps was gonna hurt. A lot. It's on!<o></o>
<o></o>
Camp: Mike and I headed off into the National Forest to set up camp, prep bikes, eat, chill, and sleep. As soon as it started getting dark, it got cold! The grilled steak Mike made was just the ticket, as my PB&J didn't seem all that substantial the night before a race. I fired up my propane lamp just as 3 folks walked over to our spot; a few more of the <st1:City><st1lace>Albuquerque</st1lace></st1:City> crew. A naturally gifted, sickly fast Pro, his Team Titus Expert girlfriend, and their buddy, a 40+ expert of some repute. We shoot the breeze for a while, then disperse to our respective sleeping areas to the pleasant sound of beer-fueled hoots, howls, and way too much CCR blasting on some yahoo DH'ers monster truck stereo not to far from us. The High Altitude Classic had a DH event as well, and these folks sure know how to "unwind" before a race! What is it with the downhill/snowboarder stereotype(s)? Thankfully the iPod was fully charged... <o></o>
<o></o>
Finally drifted off to sleep and then at 430AM I woke to the sound of rain pelting the tent. Not hard, just that pre-dawn type stuff I've seen while camping sometimes. I throw the bike in the car just in case, and figure I may as well eat while I'm awake, as it was nearing 5AM, 4 hours prior to the start of the race, my usual "mealtime". The rain spits and stops and I don't figure it'll do much. It is WAY warmer than it was last night, which is great, my toes finally warm up! I finish breakfast and crawl back under the covers setting the alarm for 630AM. I actually get a bit more sleep and then get up for real, start leisurely breaking camp, when it starts raining again - a little more steadily this time. The leisurely pace turns into a "throw everything in the car before it gets too wet" mad dash. Ugh. I roll down into town, park right next to the boardwalk by the shop/start area and the rain has turned to a steady drizzle. The sky sort of breaks up to the southeast occasionally, as we're right on the edge of the system, but it never really starts to clear. I set up the bike on my buddies (rs3o) trainer, mix some drinks up, get dressed (like 6 layers worth!) and check in with the shop.
Here's what downtown Cloudcroft looked like 1.5 hrs. prior to the start:
![]()
<o></o>
They may rain delay it, they may not. I suggest not, as it'll just get wetter, muddier, and colder; been there done that (Keystone Climax last fall, where the snow delay just gave mama nature longer to deposit more snow on the trails!). I hop back in the car with a fresh cup of coffee, and watch the sky darken, the rain intensify, the fog roll in, and the temperature drop. Gulp. Oh boy, this is going to be a brutal mess. With the start time still set at <st1:time Hour="9" Minute="0">9ish</st1:time>, I get out of the car and get on the trainer. Warming up will be critical indeed. Everyone else seems to be in denial; sipping coffee in their down parkas, while I start to get psyched up, and start spinning through my 50 minute warm up routine. A number of folks leave - not wanting to risk it, but there's still a good crowd willing to race. The rain intensifies, oh, now turning to sleety frozen hail stuff, then snow at times. Oh man... I re-strategize my gear; long sleeve thermal race jersey, awesome team jacket (wind and water proof - at least as much as can be) knee warmers, bibs, then a 2nd pair of shorts over them both, plastic bags on the toes, booties over the shoes, a lycra beanie and a plastic bag over the helmet. Style-meister! The bag trick worked miracles at 24 hrs. in The Old Pueblo, so despite looking like a complete dork (I'm used to that) I was ready! Off to the start meeting...
More rain:
![]()
(con't)</FONT></FONT>
fficeffice" /><o></o>At 9000 ft. elevation, weather will happen!<o
></o>Looking to avenge my oil-soaked suspension, cactus, and way off-course disaster from a few weeks ago at the Coyote Classic in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
ffice:smarttags" /><st1lace><st1:City>El Paso</st1:City>, <st1:State>TX</st1:State></st1lace>, I loaded up the trusty Jeep Cherokee for another round of racing. The NMORS (New Mexico Off-Road Series) race schedule has got us doing 3 races in April - an intense early start to a long season. All the courses I've raced on have been good, hard, technical and long - though I haven't ridden all the courses yet. The course in Cloudcroft was described to me as high alpine, moderately technical and would favor a hole shot in the beginning. Cloudcroft, sitting way up in the <st1lace>Sacramento Mountains</st1lace>, is a cool mountain village whose downtown features and old-west style commercial "strip" with false-front looking stores and a covered boardwalk. The event sponsor, the High Altitude Outdoor shop was on the corner of one of these rows and made for a perfect event "stage" right in the heart of Cloudcroft. I arrived the day before the race, picked up my registration packet, t-shirt, and a course map and description and headed out to pre-ride. While in the shop, I ran into a fellow FooMTB.com buddy, Mike from <st1:City><st1lace>Albuquerque</st1lace></st1:City>, and planned to ride the course together. As we casually got are gear together we talked about the weather - and how it may be on race day. Earlier in the week I'd seen reports of a 20% chance of light rain/clouds, and thought that'd be OK, all things considered. Mike let me know the chance of precipitation had doubled to 40% and it'd likely be SNOW! Hmmpf. Seemed like a long shot given the perfect weather we were having at that moment, so I hoped for the best. <o></o><o
></o>Course: From downtown, right in front of the shop, we headed out from where the race would start from. 2 blocks make a left and BAM! The first climb, up another stretch of road that turned to dirt shortly thereafter; not too bad, but at a race pace it'd be a sprint around the corner and up the road and the beginning of the pain. This was the critical hole-shot area, as after 3-4 minutes we took a hard right onto singletrack, continuing a moderate climb. It was narrow, rooty, and rocky, so a strong start was essential. Not my forte, but I'm working on it. After about 15 minutes climbing total from the start, the trail eased off a bit, then dropped some. This pattern continued up and down for the first third or so of the course until we came out near a campground and turned onto a dirt road for a bit. It was smooth and fast, making for a great place to try and regroup if the start goes bad. After a mellow 10 minutes or so, things changed rapidly. We turned left onto a wide, flowy singletrack that started off going down at a mild slope, but then must have gotten a steeper as we were flying in no time! The best part was that it just kept going, and going, and going. It was clear we'd descended way below the elevation at which we started the race, and the descent continued. Going at about three quarters race pace, I still registered 32 mph; pretty fast for a XC course indeed. It just went on and on, swooping around corners, up embankments, over small whoop de do's, diving through heavily wooded areas, out into meadowy areas and so on. We finally hit the bottom at which point we were dumped out onto a dirt road turning up to the left. Up indeed, we had a lot of elevation to reclaim! Taking easy it took about 20 to 25 minutes to climb this dirt road, which wasn't the end of the climbing by any means, until the last leg of the course turned us off to the right, up more, but on fun, techy singletrack. This part of the trail was beautiful - technically demanding but easily rideable. We crested a small hill and dropped some more out into a small field, were led to bear leftish, up the hardest part of the course. This was fantastic! A hard, steep, technical climb over roots and rocks, that was relentless in the first quarter mile or so of it, then eased off a hair, then punished yet more. It sort of crested up the embankment of an old jeep road, where we turned left and rode about 200 yards down (breath, eat, drink!) then dove off the road to the right, up and into the woods again. A bit more climbing and out we popped into an open dirt ball field type area, directly across from the initial singletrack the whole race started at, after the road climb. Nice! This was a hell of a course, about 8.3 miles which had the beginners doing 1 lap, Sport 2, and Pro/Expert 3. 3 laps was gonna hurt. A lot. It's on!<o
></o><o
></o>Camp: Mike and I headed off into the National Forest to set up camp, prep bikes, eat, chill, and sleep. As soon as it started getting dark, it got cold! The grilled steak Mike made was just the ticket, as my PB&J didn't seem all that substantial the night before a race. I fired up my propane lamp just as 3 folks walked over to our spot; a few more of the <st1:City><st1
lace>Albuquerque</st1lace></st1:City> crew. A naturally gifted, sickly fast Pro, his Team Titus Expert girlfriend, and their buddy, a 40+ expert of some repute. We shoot the breeze for a while, then disperse to our respective sleeping areas to the pleasant sound of beer-fueled hoots, howls, and way too much CCR blasting on some yahoo DH'ers monster truck stereo not to far from us. The High Altitude Classic had a DH event as well, and these folks sure know how to "unwind" before a race! What is it with the downhill/snowboarder stereotype(s)? Thankfully the iPod was fully charged... <o></o><o
></o>Finally drifted off to sleep and then at 430AM I woke to the sound of rain pelting the tent. Not hard, just that pre-dawn type stuff I've seen while camping sometimes. I throw the bike in the car just in case, and figure I may as well eat while I'm awake, as it was nearing 5AM, 4 hours prior to the start of the race, my usual "mealtime". The rain spits and stops and I don't figure it'll do much. It is WAY warmer than it was last night, which is great, my toes finally warm up! I finish breakfast and crawl back under the covers setting the alarm for 630AM. I actually get a bit more sleep and then get up for real, start leisurely breaking camp, when it starts raining again - a little more steadily this time. The leisurely pace turns into a "throw everything in the car before it gets too wet" mad dash. Ugh. I roll down into town, park right next to the boardwalk by the shop/start area and the rain has turned to a steady drizzle. The sky sort of breaks up to the southeast occasionally, as we're right on the edge of the system, but it never really starts to clear. I set up the bike on my buddies (rs3o) trainer, mix some drinks up, get dressed (like 6 layers worth!) and check in with the shop.
Here's what downtown Cloudcroft looked like 1.5 hrs. prior to the start:
<o
></o>They may rain delay it, they may not. I suggest not, as it'll just get wetter, muddier, and colder; been there done that (Keystone Climax last fall, where the snow delay just gave mama nature longer to deposit more snow on the trails!). I hop back in the car with a fresh cup of coffee, and watch the sky darken, the rain intensify, the fog roll in, and the temperature drop. Gulp. Oh boy, this is going to be a brutal mess. With the start time still set at <st1:time Hour="9" Minute="0">9ish</st1:time>, I get out of the car and get on the trainer. Warming up will be critical indeed. Everyone else seems to be in denial; sipping coffee in their down parkas, while I start to get psyched up, and start spinning through my 50 minute warm up routine. A number of folks leave - not wanting to risk it, but there's still a good crowd willing to race. The rain intensifies, oh, now turning to sleety frozen hail stuff, then snow at times. Oh man... I re-strategize my gear; long sleeve thermal race jersey, awesome team jacket (wind and water proof - at least as much as can be) knee warmers, bibs, then a 2nd pair of shorts over them both, plastic bags on the toes, booties over the shoes, a lycra beanie and a plastic bag over the helmet. Style-meister! The bag trick worked miracles at 24 hrs. in The Old Pueblo, so despite looking like a complete dork (I'm used to that) I was ready! Off to the start meeting...
More rain:
(con't)</FONT></FONT>
