(Continued from page 1)

Finally the race is about to start and we line up. I am confident that if we were racing to the tall green box with a donut seat I would win easily. Racers ready? Something inside says Nooooooo! Go! I start out spinning easy and a few racers pass me, but I am still in the pack, toward the back. We get to the first wet grassy section and I pick up the pace to pass a couple riders on a bad line. Hmmm, that wasn't so bad, so I throttle it up a little and pass a few more. After climbing the green monster I look back down the hill. I can see that I am in the middle of the pack. I fall in behind three others and they are setting a good pace for me. Now my legs are burning so I decide to hang with these folks.
I make introductions and ask where they are from. It could have been the lack of oxygen reaching my brain or the obscenities that my thighs were screaming but I sort of forgot that we were racing. I crack a few one-liners and they laugh, but I notice that I'm doing all the talking.

We get to the single-track. I am surprised that I have little trouble with the technical sections. I pick up a few more places. The course is fantastic; I'm really enjoying the ride.

After taking a bad line through a muddy section I yell back to "stay right." Hey, what's going on here? My wheel suddenly locks up. My new friends ride on. I find the chain has decided to take the leap of faith between the large sprocket in the rear and the spokes. It is here that I should point out that not only am I unfamiliar with bicycle repair, and I once tightened the limit screws on my derailleur because I thought they looked loose. I struggle and tug on the chain, more riders pass. Finally I pull the chain free. I spin the cranks and another chain leap. Only this time I can pull the chain back out. I jump back on as others pass by. The problem seems to have gone away, much like my intelligence, gone astray. I start down a long ridge really building speed. My knuckles are turning white. After a couple of hard ninety's and down a short shoot the rider in front of me ( I assume a former football player) decides to tackle the tackling dummy tied to a giant spruce tree near the bottom of the ridge. I ride past

and flow down some more magnificent single track.

I begin to climb the back side of the ski hill when Grrraaack, this time the chain is wedged but good. It has actually worked itself below where the spokes go through the hub. I struggle with the chain for minutes; it seems that everyone is passing me. I finally wiggle it loose. After careful inspection I realize that I bent something that points the bottom of the derailleur toward the spokes. No problem, a good yank back and it is fixed (as you can tell I learned mechanics at the school of big hammers). While "adjusting" the angle I feel something strange, kind of like the feeling you get just before you make that last bend in the paper clip. I fear that I have done terminal damage. I spin the cranks and shift up and down. Everything seems okay. Can it last another 2 laps? Starting off again I notice that nobody is behind me. I pass the starting/finish line and head off for my second lap. I look up at the green monster and I see some riders. So I pick up the pace and slowly but eventually catch up.

Five more times my chain jumps but most repairs are quick, except for the last time during the last lap. The chain was wedged like it was welded. I lay the bike on its side and the last remaining riders pass me again. Kneeling on the ground struggling with the chain I whip off my gloves, trying desperately to free the chain from the hub cartel. I struggle for more than six hours, or so it seems, and finally start to realize that I may have to call it a day. The thought of quitting is sour so I try once more, wiggle, wiggle, tug and just a glimpse of progress. I am inspired, I can see that it's just a couple more pulls away. Catching my breath I look down, I recoil and in a single motion I jump up and pull the chain free. I was kneeling in poison ivy! Without gloves! If I even look at poison ivy in the dictionary I come down with it so bad that I end up in the Emergency Room. I resolve not to shift the rear derailleur for the remainder of the race, now turned survival. I toggle between the small and middle ring to the finish. I get back to the car and change into dry spectator clothes, pick up my camera and head back out to the course to encourage Sean. He had a flat in the first lap and is working his way back through the field. Sean (just for the record that's not his real name) finishes in the top fifty. Pretty darn amazing for his first Expert race.

I received a letter from Dale Rochen Forester/Ranger with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources. He informed me that the State of Wisconsin purchased property adjacent to Mt du Lac from Douglas County for Watershed Protection and to reduce the amount of development along the St. Louis River. They titled the land the "Saint Louis/Red River Property."
He asked me to inform all COGGS members that the use of this property for biking is not allowed.
Dale stated. "As it stands now, there are no authorized, signed, bike trails on the Saint Louis Red River property. All biking on this property will need to cease and desist until such time that the trails are authorized and posted for bike use."
What this means is that we can no longer ride beyond the short cut. This restricts the trail to about three miles in length. Dale told me that he was going to flag and mark the property lines at the points were the trail intersects with the state owned property.
Lets adhere to this notice and not ride on the state property. Failure to follow this request could have a negative impact on the development of any bike trails on this property in the future.
If you would like additional information I will have copies of the letter that was sent to me by Dale at Tuesday's Board Meeting at Mt du Lac.
Tim Case
COGGS Chair