Frozen Mudslide
A Guide to Cyclocross

November 12, 2003

Your heart races as you shift up a gear at the top of the hill. The trail turns to the left, crosses a rocky section and then straightens out. The guy in front of you is pulling away, so you stand up out of the saddle to squeeze a few more ounces of power from your body, then quickly sit back down as the lactic acid in your quads crosses your threshold of pain. The guy ahead slowly pulls away. The icy air burns your throat on the way to your lungs as you gulp it in. You want to be in his slipstream, benefiting from his draft. But now he’s too far ahead. At 30 mph there’s no way you can catch him on the downhill, but in the back of your head you’re thinking that you can catch back up on the run-up in a few turns. And there are three or four laps left in the race. So you ease up on the pedals, force your frozen fingers to shift into an easier gear, and try to massage your heart rate back down from the stratosphere.

At the bottom of the hill you dismount at speed at the foot of the run-up, and leap over the first two-foot-tall barrier. Ahead, the leader is running away from you up the steep hill. No matter how hard you try, your legs move in slow motion. You can’t breathe fast enough. Your heart rate is pegged to the max again, and your bike on your shoulder feels like it weighs 100 lbs., though it’s only a feathery 20. At the top of the hill you unceremoniously drop your bike to the ground and struggle to imitate the nimble leap just performed by the leader. You clump onto the seat and fumble to get your feet clicked into your pedals and push with all your might at the same time. Once you are set you realize that the leader has left you far behind.

Welcome to cyclocross.

For my money, cyclocross is the most brutal, demoralizing version of bicycling imaginable. The sport began in France, finally spreading to the U.S. in the late ’70s and early ’80s. It involves riding a glorified road bike with slightly larger, knobby tires and beefier brakes that allow for more mud clearance between the wheels and frame. Race courses are generally 90 percent off-road: bumpy grass, hard-packed trails, short but steep hills, and a handful of run-ups laced with man-made barriers requiring the racers to carry their bikes.

Races are normally held in small local parks, sprawled serpentine all over the area to eke out a course of two miles or so. This makes cyclocross the most spectator-friendly bicycle race, since motivated viewers can move from spot to spot along the course to view the leaders at three or four different places along each lap. Races are a timed event, not a distance one. They are generally 30 or 45 minutes; racers ride until time’s up, then sprint through one last lap.

The cyclocross season generally runs from late September through December or January. New England is the self-proclaimed birthplace of American cyclocross, as you might expect from a region known for stoic toughness and inclement weather. New England natives, like the brothers Mark and Frank McCormick of North Easton, Mass., spent most of the 1990s at the top of the national ranks, with Mark still finishing in the top echelon today. There are five or six major regions with their own racing series across the country, but crowds at New England races are big and boisterous, and the early onset of winter makes for some of the toughest races around.

New England races have been a major contributor to the national series. The Verge Cyclocross Series, a six-race regional series ranging from Connecticut to Maine, has been host to the best cross racers in the country and from as far afield as Italy.

On Sunday, Nov. 2, many of them converged upon Gloucester, Mass., at the Clif Bar/Essex County Velo Race. The day before, most of them had competed in the “Cyclo-Cross to End Homelessness” race in Worcester. Alison Dunlap (a World Champion, World Cup Winner and National Champion in mountain biking) was there, as well as other regular fixtures: Carmen D’Aluisio, Mary McConnelong and Gina Hall. On the men’s side, all the usual suspects were competing as well: Mark McCormick, Todd Wells, Marc Gullickson, Travis Brown, Dale Knapp, as well as newcomer Ryan Trebon.

The winners of the race, Alison Dunlap and Todd Wells, were not New Englanders. But the Verge series is not over. All six of the races are UCI (Union Cycliste Internationale) sanctioned events, meaning that international points are given that determine the selection for the world championships in Pont-Chateau, France (near Nantes), at the end of January. In fact, the final Verge race, on Dec. 21, takes place in Wasserman’s Park in Merrimack, N.H. And considering that the point race is usually tight, it could determine the makeup of the U.S. team.

Locally, the University of New Hampshire cycling team sponsored a four-race series at Kingman Farm in Madbury in September and October that served as a fundraiser to help send riders to collegiate nationals in December in Oregon. It also served as a fruitful training ground for local riders, such as Cory Burns, who won the men’s B Race both in Worcester and Gloucester.

On Nov. 22, the cycling team will host another cyclocross event, the “Live Free and Ride” race at the Horse Trails on the UNH campus in Durham. There will be signs for the race from the 155A exit off Route 4. Ten race categories will go off from 9:30 a.m. through 2 p.m. For more information, e-mail Brian Croteau at bcroteau@yahoo.com or go to www.unhcycling.com/events/cross_easterns.html.