Stage 1 would see a 65 mile leg and 7800’ of climbing, with Evan Plews being the only pro. Right from the start everyone was viewing
this as a more intimate race with the chance to really get to know you competitors
since there were so few to ride with each day. We rolled off with a seaside
start right on the Pacific Ocean, with akido like reflexes I headed straight for the hard sand and sped off
into the lead with mini Seagal siting the
course. From there we headed inland
along the back farm roads that challenged every rider with mangy dogs chasing
you as each farmhouse rolled by. Within the first 5 miles the climbing began
with steep rolling hills, the highlight being the steep climb up Tequila Hill
were our group of 7 stopped at the summit for shots of Mexico’s finest before
setting back out to the first rest
stop. The wrist snapping began around mile 45 with a long road climb
to the second aide station where I thinned the group down form 6 to 2. Right
out of the aide station we were off
on an 18 mile uphill grind into headwinds blowing 20+ mph - a kick
to the jewels would have felt better. Managed to snap a couple of more wrists
before rolling into Tecate to end day 1. In Masters I grabbed my first stage win and was
able to take 6 minutes out of second. Stage 2, an 85 miles slog across the back country of Baja, on paper looked to be fairly easy with only 5500’ of climbing,
until the prerace meeting revealed the presence of 13 -17 miles of deep sand that
would be unrideable, and the fact that we would be
sharing a section of the course with the Baja race vehicles that were prerunning the course for next week’s
race. Race day dawned with temps in the low 40’s and the continuation
of yesterday's menacing headwind, which stayed with us for the first 53 miles
of the course. This was the first time I have had to walk flat section due to
the deep sand. The other option being riding through the bush (with it’s thorns
and rattlers) to stay in the hard pack – tried both and went for the walking.
The stage ended with a fast descent down hardpack road with sections of deep sand and of course a pit bull that was all teeth and drool chasing you near the bottom. After the downhill we were treated
to 6 miles of washboard road (some of the riders swore they would be sterile
afterwards) with sections of deep sand before rolling into the finish that
included young bmx riders throwing rocks at some of us! Again I nabbed another
stage win, further padded my lead by 35 minutes and snapped a pair of wrists.
This time would prove vital as the bronchitis I had been battling the past few
weeks was coming back in a big
way. Stage 3 kicked off with a 2.5 hour bus ride to the Valle Trinidad. The day's 53 miles and 6800’ of climbing opened with
what was fast becoming the traditional 5 mile sand and washboard slog to the
base of the climb to Mike’s Sky Ranch, which featured pitches in excess of 18
degrees. The descent was fast and rocky, serving up 2 flats before I finally
pulled into the first rest stop. The ensuing hike a bike to the summit was
followed with a descent that was better suited for the Red Bull Challenge then
a stage race. Feeling like someone had me in a bear hug the entire stage I
marked time against second in Master’s over the balance of the
course. The final descent was another fast dirt road section made all
the more tricky by the loss of my rear brakes, the sand having finally worn
them to the point of no return. Of course to make us all suffer just a bit
more, the final 5 miles were over (drumroll please) sandy washboard road. I struggled in second in Masters
losing 8 minutes of my lead. Then back on the bus for 2.5 hours of beer
drinking and countless piss breaks before getting to the hotel and
dinner. Stage 4 was shortened to just under 40 miles and 2200’ of
climbing after most everyone agreed that there had been enough sand and the 3
mile beach section near the finish should be dropped, which it was. By now the
bronchitis was so bad I could hardly breath and knew I would be giving up time,
the question was how much. It only got worse on the first descent when I hit a bone jarring
ditch in the trail that even Stan’s couldn't save. This was really beginning to really suck ass and would
suck even more ass when midway through the stage I suffered a third and fourth
flat. With no tubes left I went begging from anyone and managed to score enough
to get to the finish. The sight of the Pacific before the final descent had me
dreaming of margaritas, shots and
beer. I upheld the honor of Team Seagal and the NECS coming home 6th overall and first in Masters with an 8 minute lead. Now it’s
Margarita time!
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