Barking Spider part 2

So picture this: I’m barreling down the highway towards Boise, landmarks ticking off like items on a grocery list. One of them, this majestic elk sculpture perched on a Kooskia roof, always catches my eye. This race, I was the barking spider champ, and seeing that elk? It felt like it was mirroring my pre-race pump-up, antlers high, ready to defend my title. Yeah, right?

Famous last words, eh? Click, click went the surge button, but nadda. Not a peep. Now, I wasn’t panicking. This rodeo clown’s seen this bull before. Stick with the pack, wait for another chance, that’s the motto. We were all strung out like Christmas lights, but I had the big picture. The pros, sure, they were a tad ahead on the climb, but nothing insurmountable. Then, bam! Someone attacks, threatening to catch the lead four if they keep pushing. Someone chases them, and I’m stuck behind this dude who looks like he’s run out of gas (and let’s be honest, same).

But hey, a little self-reflection never hurt anyone, right? Why wasn’t that surge button working? Maybe the 7-hour car ride, fueled by pure “gotta get there” adrenaline, had something to do with it. No pee stops, no food, just this tunnel vision of the finish line. I scolded myself for skipping breakfast, that glorious fuel for champions. The whole trip was a blur, like watching “The Flash” on fast-forward. And here I was, paying the piper.

Then, boom! The dude in front just stops. “Oh great,” I grumble, picturing dominoes falling. But wait, a steep climb jolts me back to reality. Suddenly, the crashed dude and the one who stopped zoom past me like I’m stuck in molasses. Turns out, they’re tag-teaming it! Just like that, my podium dreams evaporate, 3rd place dissolving into a disappointing 5th in Cat 1. By the second lap, it’s every man for himself, a strung-out line of cyclists battling the elements and fading hopes. My post-race report card wasn’t looking pretty in my head, let me tell you.

But hey, gotta keep pushing, right? I locked onto a racer, pulling out every trick in the book to catch him. Maybe, just maybe, I could snag that position back near the end… and maybe, just maybe, win the whole shebang. Now that’s a story worth writing.