Although I officially retired from bike racing in 2020, I find that even now, whenever I catch wind of a race in the area, my ears sort of perk up and next thing I know, I find myself signed up.  Can’t help it.  Something about you can take the boy out of the race but you can’t take the race out of the boy, I guess.  

For one thing, it’s easy.  The races I’ve done here are in town so there’s no travel involved.  And the whole thing is a lot more casual than what I was used to in Texas.  No USAC license required, just sign up on line and show up the morning of the race to pick up your number.  Not to mention, races here only come around once or twice a year so they feel more like an event as opposed to the every-other-week, year-round grind that by the end of the season starts to feel like a part-time job.  So maybe I haven’t retired as much as I’ve become more selective.

This past weekend in Salida was the Banana Belt Mountain Bike Race.  “Banana Belt” being a reference to the you-didn’t-hear-it-from-me mild climate of the southern Arkansas River valley.  The race has been going on for years and attracts people from all over the state.  This year the race course was literally in our backyard.  I could have ridden to the start but the race was relatively long at 28 miles so no need for aditional unnecessary saddle time, plus I needed a place to drop my swag bag while I was racing so having the car made sense.

The course was a clockwise loop utilizing most of the local Methodist Mountain trail system.  Sort of a grand tour of Methodist, if you will.

I lined up in the front row because to my amazement, ten minutes before the start no one was standing there and no one seemed all that concerned about start position.  It was a mass start but the first mile was a neutral roll-out along the shoulder of Highway 50 followed by an eight-mile dirt road climb, so things got sorted out nicely well before we got to the single track.  No elbow-throwing argy bargy that marks the start of every other mountain bike race I’ve ever done. 

I had a good start tagging on to a group of about six giving chase to a lead group that went up the road early.  I got sorted out near the top of the initial climb.  And by sorted, I mean passed by a guy who looked to be in my age group.  We hit the single track in ones and twos and I spent the remainder of the race chasing him.  I would close in on him on the climbs but he’d always drop me on the descents.  Clearly a local.  One thing I’ve learned about Salida riders is that most can descend like a bowling ball dropped out of an airplane.  Fearless.  I had my work cut out for me.

The course followed the Rainbow trail traversing north and then west at about 9,000 feet along the flanks of Methodist Mountain then did a dive down to the Little Rainbow trail system at 8,000 feet and traversed back east to the finish.  I managed to pick off a couple of young riders visiting from the front range who appeared to be struggling with the altitude.  Once we hit the lower trail system, West/East Spartan and the Little Rainbow, the course is a rolling, mostly downhill run to the finish.  By now I am really familiar with these trails and can ride them at pretty much warp speed, enabling me to catch two more riders in the last five miles.  

I ended up 2^nd in the distinguished gentlemen’s class, 14^th overall, one minute behind my rabbit, who despite my efforts, managed to stay just out of reach.  Happy with that.  

So to summarize:

Now if we can just get a taco truck and a mariachi band to start showing up for these things my life will be complete.