Herron Hammer- 2012 Race Report
Ben Parsons Team Sportsman Ski Haus/Hammer endorsed “Pro”
racer
The season is off and running, the anticipation has come to
fruition, and rubber is meeting the road, or trail actually. After months of going on long, slow, cold
rides, suffering through yet another cold and wet spring, and early mornings in
the gym, the time has come to let the delusions of grandeur come toppling down
with a nice slice of reality… you can’t win ‘em all. But, you might get lucky and win one! And one, I will take with much contentment.
After kicking of the Montana Off Road season with my least
favorite race ever (the Unravel the Scratchgravel in Helena), it looked like I
was going to have to train my mental fortitude as much as my power at lactate
threshold. I dislike (mom said I can’t
say hate) this race very much because it never fails to make me feel like I
should be racing 13 year olds, not the cat 1/pro field. With short rolling climbs, an advertised “70%
double track”, and lack of any technical challenges, it is my nemisis of a
mountain bike race. So I figure there’s
no better way to kick off the season with some “character building”. Which is exactly what happened after limping
in one off the podium and what felt like eons behind race winner and recent
Colorado implant Travis Scheefer. Driving home from the weekend, I was actually quite positive knowing
that it was to be expected, and really, I felt pretty decent for my first race
effort of the season. I was charged up
for the first big goal of the season, the Herron Hammer, a local race touting
$1000 purse and a shot for local glory and bragging rights.
Two weeks later, strongmen and women from around the state
converged on a perfect spring day for a couple hours of sick singletrack racing
on the newly constructed trails of the Foys to Blacktail organization. I had
been doing some recon work on the trail the last few weeks, and felt confident
that it would be a good course for me, granted I could hang with the leaders on
the climbs. Though I consider myself a
climber, I usually don’t sharpen my goat hoofs til July or August, and I prefer
climbs that resemble more of a wall than a gradual ramp. Looking around at the comp at the line, I
said a quick prayer and hoped to simply enjoy the experience of racing. The first lap is usually anything buy
enjoying racing as the legs are in shock of the lactic flooding and nerves are
high while jockeying for position and loosing contact with the leaders. I kept calm though knowing I would catch up
on the decent by employing my jedi trail powers coupled with local knowledge. Sure enough, 5 or 6 of us started the next
lap with the young phenom of Helena (Landon Beckner) throwing down the watts
and putting us all in the ringer while catching local fast dad Matt
Butterfield. Phil and Mully (Cling
Muhlfield) started loosing contact as the screws kept tightening, and I sucked
wheel as hard as I could on singletrack while climbing. Reaching the top of the 2nd lap,
I cut around young Landon and Butterfield and said “Matty, lets sink like
stones and drop this youngin… He’s too strong!”
Matt and I hit the 3rd lap with a good amount of breathing
room, and then I was left to mentally tell myself that if I could just hang on
to the last lap, I would have what it takes to joust Butterfield for the
win. Sure enough, we started up the
climb of the 4th lap together, almost rolling at a conversational
pace. Two thirds of the way up Matt
asked, “Is this our 3rd lap?”, to which I thought, “He must not want
this as bad as I do, attack now and cash in the chips!” I dropped a couple gears, locked out the Lefty, and swung back and forth over the bars trying to eek out an attack from
my rapidly seizing quads. I managed to
gain a few bike lengths going into the final singletrack climb and knew I had
it in the bag barring any flats or freak incidences. Descending the three miles of swooping singy
to the finish was a great feeling, being able to enjoy the fruits of hard work
and suffering while being one with bike, trail, and lycra. Coming through the finish line, I’m pretty
sure I raised my arms, which may be unwarranted in a Montana mountain bike
race, but I didn’t care, it was an amazing feeling pulling off a hard fought
win in front of the home crowd.
Unfortunately, I find myself a little complacent after winning a race
and I think I’m in for a brutal awakening this weekend lining up with hungry
racers wanting revenge and an all but guaranteed London 2012 mountain bike
Olympian! Ah well, enjoy ‘em while ya
can, cause next go around, a chunk of humble pie will go down like a box of
rocks. Happy trails and enjoy the
season, think about how much you’ve all ready invested into it, might as well
enjoy it win, lose, or draw!
