The NUE Math

(3+3+2+4)/4 = 4

Yeah go figure

Shenandoah 100 - More Rain/More Miles/Kicked in the Groin

Well loyal fans (read that to mean Team Seagal), the final leg of the NUE Series is now in the books and it is time to sit back, read trashy magazines and get drunk on beer and mezcal, and boy did I earn it this year.

Just as you experienced at the Mohican, pre race thunderstorms were the order of the night on Saturday, ensuring the the course would be muddy (not as bad as Mohican) and have it's fair share of greasy spots to take the unwitting to the mat faster then a blow from an akido stick.

Turns out this was not one to remember and for the better part of the day I felt like a stunt double that Master Steven had abused for kicks.

The night before started with some jackass blasting the megaphone siren at all hours and babbling out unrecognizable phrases that made it seem like I was back on the boat with Chef going up that river in Apocalypse Now. The morning was humid with a capital H and despite the cool temps this was going to be a race that would take the wind out of your sails.

Well your poor commentator suffered heavily in these conditions and never did get in the game for the entire race. The biggest positive was riding past the 22 and 43 mile marks and not bailing out of the race (each of these points was less then a 10 minute ride to the camp ground). The biggest negative was the 18 mile climb out of mile 54. In past years this has been a spot where I have snapped many a wrist and left grown men sobbing on the side of the road from the pain doled out. Well this year it was my turn to take the beating and it sure felt like a kick in the groin as the single speeders rode past me on the steeper pitches toward the summit. It was so bad that I considered going to the emergency room for wrist X rays!

The push on continued (both literally and physically) as I rode and walked my way to the finish, pushed on by the powers of Steven, thoughts of Corona, limes and mezcal and of course the famous post race sacrifice of Tibetan goji berries to the gods for making it home. The icing on the cake was the double puncture less then 2 miles from the finish. The leaks were slow enough that I could ride but barely steer and on the final single track the front end tucked and I came up dazed and sporting a new taco shaped wheel just for the Baja Epic.

The final result, fourth in Masters, securing at worst 4th in the series and and podium finishes in all the races.