I distinctly remember one fall afternoon when I was 15 my father coming home from a bike race and telling me, "You gotta try this, it's called cyclocross." By 15 I had already competed in a few mountain and road races here and there. I believe I was the under 12 state road race champion at some point. Most likely the only competitor in my age group. For as long as I can remember my dad has been racing and riding his bike. I was never pressured into riding just always had a bike in the garage waiting for me if I ever decided I wanted to ride. At 15 I was too busy skateboarding, chasing girls and playing soccer for bike riding. Thinking back to that day what stuck out most to me was the look on my dad's face as he explained to me what the heck this cyclocross was. You get to run up steep hills and over logs and barriers all while carrying your bike. The races are short and fast. Next weekend there was a cyclocross race at Piedmont Community College only 30 minutes from my house. Soccer season was over with and I agreed to try it out.
The first rig I ever raced cross on was a mid 1980's Klein Rascal, pink and purple, rigid, mountain bike. Oh was that one sweet ride. Believe it or not the bike is still in the garage. I had to race the beginner category because there was no junior category. I don't remember much about the race other than it being really really hard and the fans cheering me on. To my surprise I finished 2nd. From then on I have considered myself not a roadie or a mountain biker, but a cyclocross racer. Here I am, never missed a season, roughly 180 races over 12 years and I'm still just as hooked as the day I started.
