Downieville XC - 2007

Let's agree that Downieville's XC race is the Baja 1000 of XC.

This was my inaugural D'Ville XC event. Like most of you, I'm a sea level dweller so "high altitude" to me is 1000 ft in the Marin Headlands. We don't have 8-mile jeep road climbs 'round these parts. And you're more likely to get a runny nose than a sunburn in San Francisco in the summertime. Oh, and there's only one baby head in my house.

So I was prepared in terms of knowing my limitations.....

Outta the gate, my heart-rate surged as my red blood cells ran for their lives. Approaching the transition from asphalt to dirt at the 1 mile mark, my Garmin gave out. Seems I wasn't the only one running with a weak charge. Then again, you don't need a HRM to tell you that you're about to blow a gasket...

I reached the summit in the neighborhood of 75 minutes, so not the shortest climb I've ever done. It was at this point that I leveraged some serious frustration and put the WTB Mutano Raptors (50psi) to the test with a blistering run down the gravel fire roads to take back a couple positions. Dropping into Pauley Creek I unlocked the forks, tightened my grip and tried my best to find a line amidst a sea of granite boulders and generally failed. Part of next year's training will involve intervals...........with a jack hammer.

My legs came back to life as I reached Third Divide. The only trouble was my vision went to hell. Not to mention my breathing. Imagine trailing a dump truck up a fire road without a windshield. I remember wondering if a dust mask would help. Another thought for next year. So Third Divide is dusty but relatively smooth, which allowed me to attain some semblance of rhythm. I was happy to track down a few more guys who had also "dusted" me on the climb. Third Divide deceives you because just when you're getting ready to set the cruise control, yellow flashers emerge and lots of cones (you wish) and before you know it you're hoping for anti-lock as you blast through some jagged rock and exposed tree root and with it feel that fight or flight adrenaline shot that reminds you of a near miss with terra firma.

My confidence was seriously compromised when, in a moment of waning focus, I convinced myself that a high speed contouring singletrack would be a fine time to release my grip to give my cramped claws a break. What followed was more dust as my chin connected with the trail. If you look closely you can see "Santa Cruz" tattooed in black and blue on each leg as I sit here. I haven't hurt like that since that cop swatted me [not really] with a baton in college.

The 500ft climb outta Third Divide to First Divide is a rude awakening. I wanted to be done with climbing...forever. Incidentally, I overheard perennial DH champion Mark Weir say, "I nuked that climb in 3:07, dude! My best time ever." I probably tackled it in twice that time. And lotsa guys were walking, which restored a bit of my spirit.

First Divide can really hurt you. There are a few spots where a missed shift can send you down a 500ft granite waterslide to the Yuba river. And since I had a family to drive home, I wasn't gonna push it. It's on the final stretch of this part of the trail where you really gotta ride on eggshells. I'd bet two outta three flats happen on First Divide. What appears to be smooth singletrack is actually a leaf-strewn bed of granite razor blades. I saw many demoralized riders rolling the last 1000 yards of road into town on their Mavics. I was happy to have avoided a flat this day. I was not happy about having been beat by some riders who did flat.

I finished 30th out of 46 with a time of 2hr, 33minutes and change.

This is a special weekend in one of the great old mining towns in California. It's perfect for kids. Chris King was passing out free pancakes both mornings. The weather is hot but with a nice breeze. My wife and I found an amazing pool on the river which provided as refreshing a swim as I can recall in my life.

Everyone with a passion for XC racing should strongly consider a long weekend in Downieville next year. It's an unadulterated hoot. And if you think you can't handle the trail, don't worry. Bobby McMullen finished the DH race in just over 90 minutes this year and he's blind. No sh**.

Peter Gilberd is a salesman who moonlights as a writer. He races mountain bikes in the Expert 35-39 class for Team Platinum Performance out of Santa Barbara. He lives in San Francisco with his wife and daughter.