Luck runs out

Lining up with some new faces in A grade—plenty of lycra and everyone riding light hardtails—the weather was stuffy and warm. It didn't take long to raise a sweat during a short warm-up. Predictions were for rain later in the day, but I hoped it would hold off until after the race.

Launching off the line in usual sprinter fashion, we headed down the trail in road-train style. Over the course of the first lap, track conditions at Yarramundi proved dry and fast—just not fast enough for me, as the pack rode away over the next few laps.

It was on the second lap that my mechanical luck finally ran out. Turns out it has been a very, very long time since a major mechanical put me on the side of the track.

National Parks had been out with the slasher, trimming here and there and leaving a variety of sticks across sections of the trail. It could have been one of these, or just a random black wattle that jumped out from the edge to catch itself in my rear derailleur. Many times before I’ve caught a stick, pulled up, and removed the offending piece of timber. This time, the little blighter ate half my jockey wheel teeth on its way through—strike one.

Getting caught on a spoke, the lumber continued its destructive path, taking the derailleur hanger with it—strike two. It looked like a mess of twisted shiny metal and black plastic jockey wheel teeth wrapped around dark wood: classic MTB Deco Pop art.

After flipping the bike over and manually twisting the hanger back to a much straighter stance, I gave the pedals a quick spin to make sure things worked... just. The derailleur had a bit of a limp over half the cogs, but worked best on the smaller gears of the cassette. I jumped back on and completed the lap without further mishap.

Out on lap three, it was best to drop to the granny gear for the power-line climbs, then wrestle the bike single-speed style in the middle ring through the undulations.

It was lap four of five when the next incident hit. Flying down a technical descent: phf-shhhhhhh. Strike three—a punctured front tyre and tube, just a quarter of the way through the lap, and instantly flat.

My enthusiasm deflated just as fast as the tyre. I don’t consider a DNF part of my racing, but with three strikes, it was front and center in my mind. I shamefully trekked my bike back to the start/finish—the first time my luck had truly run out.

The Silver Lining

On the upside, while commuting home on Monday and trialing a new 50–60 minute route, I came across a nice tool that had taken a small beating on the road. Turns out it's probably a hundred-dollar item, and the damage was only minor.

The new route will also be great for steady spinning on flat terrain.