Race Eve
The sun had yet to rise when I awoke. The Uinta Mountains to the east might have had seen some sun, but Park City remained in the dark and a misty fog brought with it a bone chill. Gathering my things, I summoned an UBER—perhaps a touch preemptively. But hell, it’d light a fire under my prep time. Fifteen minutes. OK. Shoes, helmet, snack bars: check. Chargers, SD cards, cameras: check. Pedals…shit! I look at my phone—four minutes.
I toss everything into my Patagonia Black Hole and run out to the garage, tossing my cyclocross bike onto the stand and fishing out my 15mm pedal wrench. Two minutes… ah! Ok, which way again? I pull counter clockwise on the drive side… right? Ugh, this is what YouTube is for… passcode, app launch, search… GCN - How to Remove and Replace Your Bicycle Pedals. Select. PLAY! Buffering… “the drive side unscrews in the conventional manner, anti-clockwise.” Umm, what’s that? Oh, right, British for counter clockwise.
"Your UBER is arriving."
After a quick bump on the wrench the pedal threads off. Ok, clockwise on the non-drive side. Thump, the pedal hits the ground. Gathering my greasy SPDs, I stuff them in an old grocery bag, into my duffel and I’m out the door. I’ll be missing my trusty Cannondale CAADX, but look forward to making a substantial upgrade—the Santa Cruz Stigmata CC is awaiting on the other end of today’s travels, thanks to the good lads and ladies at SRAM.
An hour later, I’m at the gate, preparing for my flight. Breathing heavily and going over my mental gear checklist, I open Twitter to survey the hype surrounding the upcoming event. #Grinduro is going off! Talk of custom bikes, delicious food and event prep status fills countless tweets. By sundown some 400 riders will have descended upon the quaint town of Quincy, located 144 miles Northeast of Sacramento in the American Valley at the base of the California’s Sierra Butte Mountains. The cause? Grinduro.
Once in Sac-town I’m quickly caught up in the growing excitement radiating from a group of fellow “Grindurers” huddled around the nearest coffee drip. Soon thereafter we’re on the road for a 3-hour tour up I-70 and into the heard of the Sierra Mountains.