The Grand Tours seem to get most cycling enthusiasts attention. For me those rides are boring. I prefer the beauty, pain, misery, and romanticism the Spring Classics bring with them. They are single day races that seem to always throw everything at the cyclists: bad weather, bad roads, bad timing, and bad luck. Whether it be an inopportune flat, a crash on a crowded cobbled climb, missing the winning move, or mud/sleet/rain the classics have it all. This Saturday I was out on course sweeping for broken souls between races when I came across an old cemetery in the woods.
I'd managed to stop just in time to catch the Pro/1/2 field come screaming off of the gravel climb and making the sweeping right hand turn across the bridge on the back side of the course. They were rocketing. I was about 11 miles into the course and they hadn't been going long, but they were scorching the pace. The Hell of the South race, Tennessee's Spring Road Classic, was underway (HOS).
PTJ off the front during the Elite Masters race.
Cobblestone HOS trophies.
Bernie.
Having a few friends marshaling turn 6 just past the gravel, and having neutral support wheels in the car, I decided to set up camp at turn 6 and hang out. Bernie the French Bulldog was there to help keep me company as well.
The rain and sleet forecast had held off, but the skies were gray and the wind cold perfect weather for a spring classic. I'd really hoped for snow since
every other recent monument race had been affected one way or another by snow. It just seemed fitting. Sadly the snow wouldn't happen for another 2 days.
The HOS parcours offered picturesque countryside scenery to racers and spectators.
MOAB provided two motos with brand new Mavic wheels for neutral support.
As cool as the HOS race was, without more "cobble" sections and worse weather, it's hard to call it a race for the "hardmen." Sure it was a hard race, but a hardman race? Nope. That race would come Sunday afternoon.
Photo by Jim Simms.
The
18th Annual Chickasaw Trace Classic is the monument spring classic for the area mountain bikers. Some years it falls on the hottest, dustiest day of the new year or, as recent years have shown, one of the wettest. This year we had decent temperatures (though a very biting wind) and lots of mud mixed in with some rain. Trail conditions were pretty good overall, the typical TN peanut buttery mud wasn't really seen, instead we had slippery and soupy trails to contend. The type where your pads are gone before the end of the first lap, eyes are full of scratchy sand and mud (I'm still recovering from some painful corneal abrasions in my left eye), and the shared misery of the racers adds to the level of race memories.
Photo by Michael Edens.
Tristan on his way to the finish. Photo by Jim Simms.
As if one needed proof of the hardman conditions, above is a photo of 9 year old Tristan Simms finishing out a hard fought 9 mile muddy and slick lap. Never giving up. Never complaining. Fighting to the bitter end (which entailed a brutal headwind as he road up a steep and soggy grassy hill climb) and coming across the line in grand style. He is my hero of the day. This kid is one tough mudder. I'm always impressed by the efforts put forth by our Jrs team riders, but Tristan's performance during the conditions of Sunday's race really made an impression. I'm so proud of him there aren't words to properly express it.
Mr. finished in the money PTJ at the finish of the HOS.
Of course it would be hard not to be considering the man in the photo above is Tristan's daddy. One of the hardest headed, strongest willed, bad-assed cyclists around. Watch out for Tristan, he's going to make one hell of a dent in the cycling world someday.
