Leaves of Three, Let it Be

I swear I was racing. (Photo courtesy of GTLuke)

Easy E. I swear she was racing, too. (Photo courtesy of GTLuke)

This past weekend's first ever Singlespeed-a-Palooza (Sponsored by Darkhorse Cycles) started off with the following: one gear, one chain tensioner, two Gu packs, and one bottle of water. The same race was finished with one gear, one chain tensioner fastened to the frame with one black ziptie, no Gu packs, no water, and far too much urushiol. The consistent variable?--one gear.

Exiting the fireroad descent and entering the first section of singletrack I tucked in behind powerhouse Linscott. She had slightly taller gearing and so it was on the first climb that I managed to squeeze by on her left and settle in for some mano y mano singletrack time. Now one would think that using less gears translates to less mechanicals, right? Wrong, truth is there are no favorites here, and after some alone time with the trails, I lost the only gear I had. Bummer. Turns out the chain tensioner did not want to stay in place, and so neither did the chain. After repositioning the chain tensioner, and thus reinstating the chain, not but two minutes down the road did they decide to set themselves free again, and again, and, hmmm, then again. Persistent little contrabands, eh?

Standing along the flanks of Stewart's beautiful singletrack trails, watching riders whir past, one by one, I wondered how I could rig something that would put me back in the good stuff. Let me rephrase that--I stood, bathing in a pile of poison ivy, watching people whiz by in contentment, while trying to figure out how I could finish the race. Miraculously, I stood gaping as one of the last female racers slowed down to meet me and my patience--what was she up to? Turns out she was a downhiller, just out for a change in pace; also turns out her chain tensioner was a stubborn little rebel as well, and that she had the key component to help make my race: a sleek, black, riveted zip tie. Yes, please.

No outside help in a race, I know, but desparate times call for desperate measures, and I knew I was no longer in the running for placement. I simply wanted to enjoy the remaining twists, whoops, and berms, play some high speed catchup, and finish the can of worms I had opened up. Thanks to Allie, a regular ol' MacGyver/Velo Bella downhiller, I was able to just that.

Although I would have like to have had a working singlespeed (la culpa mia, entirely), it was satisfying to watch my teammate, Ellen, zip by at a good clip and pull out a solid third place finish. The first annual Singlespeed-a-Palooza was a day of lessons, some of which I am still scratching at the surface of (literally, each day since has been a test of willpower against the spreading urushiol across the inside of my left arm). Apparently, singlespeed does not necessarily translate to more simple, as Wendi also found out when her pedal came off (still attached to her foot) and Jocelyn saw when someone ran into her from behind and burped any chance of finishing out of her tire. Good thing we know how to roll with the punches, and when to punch back. Thanks to Hawaiian Mike and the whole crew up at Darkhorse for a great course and new annual event for singlespeeding.