True story: Cyclocross appealed to me because it was a fall/winter sport. A cold weather sport. A sport where there might be snow. I am a snow baby. I was born in the frigid cold of Nebraska in January. A year ago, I said I refused to race ‘cross in months that didn’t end in “ber” (which when you say it out loud is funny because it sounds like “brr”). I should probably revise that to “no ‘cross before Labor Day.” Sunday was hot, dry, and very dusty. But with a course as fun as Granogue, I’m nothing but happy to be back in the cyclocross game for another season. Continue reading
I know better.
That’s the refrain for my first foray into the world of Cat 1 XC mountain bike racing. It means a lot of different things, though. Let me explain. Continue reading