2014 - Return to the Scene of the Crime

 

Preface

As the webmaster for the legendary Crescent Challenge, I must apologize in advance for the almost two-year hiatus I have taken from my duties. It is hard to believe that much time has gone by so quickly, but alas it has, and it is only going faster these days it seems. Two things broke me out of my complacency:

1) I stumbled across some hand-written notes for a draft of the 2012 Crescent Challenge recap.

2) One of the organizers hinted that perhaps we should start a Facebook event page because it is so convenient.

Well I'll be damned if I'm going to bow down to the altar of convenience if it means sucking up to the likes of that hoodie-wearing fanboy Jeff Zuckerberg, so here in all of its glory is the recap of the 2014 Crescent Challenge, on a proper web site I might add.


Oct 4, 2014

The Crescent Challenge is 2 weeks in the past already, but the image of Jeff Rebeaux skipping into the heart of our campsite Sunday morning while singing "Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree..." and carrying on his shoulder an 11 month-old dead Christmas tree is not one that will soon be forgotten. I can still picture him gleefully jamming it down into our smoldering fire ring, and the slack-jawed looks on some of the competitors' faces at the ensuing conflagration. By some miracle, the campground host did not wheel by in his golfcart while this was going on otherwise we surely would have been kicked out, or at least lined up for interrogation by the overzealous female staffer at the campground entrance. She had already threatened to perform cavity searches on a few unfortunate competitors before allowing them into the campground Friday evening.

Brevard, NC is a happening town these days, generally becoming accepted as one of the premier mountain biking destinations in the Southeast, if not the country. It has all the ingredients - Great bike shops (one serves beer, the other coffee), year-round riding, awesome trails, friendly locals, and beer. It was a fairly easy decision by your organizers to host the 10th anniversary edition of the Crescent Challenge in this prime locale, and we chose the Davidson River campground, just within the bounds of Pisgah National Forest, as our headquarters. Not to mention, it also seemed fitting to return to the very site of the first Crescent Challenge from 10 years ago. A frequent question we received was "Why host the Crescent Challenge in mid-September ?" Well, had you slackers attended the frigid 2013 edition of the Crescent Challenge, you might understand this decision. And yes, we were greeted with relatively balmy conditions for this time of year, and the Navigator for one, liked it. But don't worry, next year we'll be back at it in late October or early November.

Competitors began trickling into the Davidson River campground Friday afternoon. First to arrive were Andy Roberson, Holt Smith, and returning competitor Clay Daniels. Looking shifty as ever, these three were subjected to a TSA-style pat-down and search of their belongings. After enduring this humiliation, and showing proper identification to prove that yes, he was in fact the very person that paid good money to secure two campsites and subject himself to this ridiculousness, Andy and crew were granted access to this secure facility. Oddly enough, of all the rules the campground publicizes, the One True Golden Rule is "Thou shalt not park ones car such that even an inch of tire tread is off the pavement". If you see the campground host eyeing your vehicle, with a ruler in hand, you had best get your shit together and move that car soldier. Scott rolled in next, followed shortly by Calhoun and Kyle Nelson. Next up was Justin, now residing in the piedmont of S.C. and absent for the last two years from the Crescent Challenge.  Here is a mostly complete list of the hardy souls that braved at least parts, if not the entire, 2014 Crescent Challenge: 

Andy Roberson, Gaines Huguley, Calhoun Clark, Holt Smith, Robert Mobley, Greg Bragg, Kevin Fennington, Clay Daniels, Justin Williams, Scott Sawyer, Jeff Rebeaux, Bill (Jeff's friend ), Kyle Nelson, Kip Haley and Mike Winiski 

As the two campsites were gradually populated with people, cars, tents, bikes, canopies, signage, and miscellaneous gear, it was hard not to reflect back on the humble beginnings of the event. I can still picture Gaines, Andy, and Calhoun huddled around a pitifully small campfire in a desolate, windswept campground. Andy and Gaines were gnawing on some tough beef jerky and cold beans, sharing a flask of Yukon Jack. Calhoun was trying to fit in, but with his Sushi and top-shelf dark beer he just stood out like a sore thumb.

Jan 3, 2015

So there you have it, with nary a thought 90 days, 14 weeks, 3 months, or one quarter of an entire year, however you like to look at it, have flown by in a nanosecond, and I still find myself struggling to complete this recap. That's the way life goes these days. Just ask any Dad in their late 40's with teenaged children. Why now you might ask ? Well, the rest of my family is up in Wisconsin braving sub-zero temperatures while I shelter in place down here in good ole SC. With time on my hands, why not fritter away several hours fighting GoDaddy.com to renew this domain name, cancelling private registration, and updating some email addresses, and then finally getting back to the recap itself ? Anyway, back to the recap.

Several challengers set about the important task of setting up camp soon after arrival. We had two adjacent sites, with a veritable jungle of Mountain Laurel separating the two. This was luxury camping compared to some years. Hot showers, fire rings, gravel pads, stolen electricity from nearby RV sites - you get the idea. Andy and Calhoun thought it would be swell to set hammocks up in the midst of the Mountain Laurel. Andy thought he had a choice spot, until he noticed all this white fluffy stuff raining down from above onto his hammock. To his horror, he realized shortly that the white fluffy stuff was alive. An entire civilization of wooly aphid larvae were inhabiting a branch a few feet up in the tree. A google search seems to indicate that a product known as "High-Yield Kill-A-Bug II" is recommended for Wooly Aphid control. Not having any of that particular product nearby, Andy resorted to the swiss-army knife of all chemicals - WD-40. Several of us onlookers watched in amazement as Green-Peacer Andy stilled 500,000 lives in about 2 seconds with a few tightly focused sprays courtesy of the now ubiquitous red straw.

That settled, everyone got back to the task at hand, and newcomer Kyle Nelson's task was getting his dropper post fixed. Technology is great, unless your seat won't extend enough for any proper pedal power. With his SantaCruz hanging from the campsite lantern hanger and Avid bleed syringes all akimbo, the scene was reminiscent of a hospital patient hooked up to an IV drip. On the bright side, this situation reminded everyone of past stalwart challenger Kent Peggram and his mechanical challenges. It was somewhat comforting to see Kyle filling his shoes. On the not-so-bright side, all the fluid bleeding was for naught. Had we been out in the middle of nowhere, Kyle might have been stressing out. As it was, he simply threw his bike on the car, drove 5 minutes down to THE HUB, and had a craft beer while they fixed his seat. DAMN RIGHT ! By 7-8pm, the Crescent Challenge was back in force and in full swing. A raging campfire, good food, drink, and a bunch of good friends catching up with the past year's events etc...

On Saturday morning the logistical operation of figuring out where to ride commenced over breakfast. Traditionally, we prefer riding right out of campsites as opposed to ferrying somewhere in cars. Hence, with great riding close by, we elected to simply ride out through the back of Davidson River towards the stables and proceed forthwith up Clawhammer road. Keep in mind the Crescent Challenge is composed of a varied group - varied in biking skills, equipment, fitness, age, political leanings, you name it. That's kind of the whole point though isn't it ? As such, we split the group up a bit once we got to the Maxwell Cove intersection. Holt, Greg, Robert, Calhoun, Kyle, and Justin elected to press on up Clawhammer. The balance of the group took Maxwell over to lower Black. More on that later.

Rule number 1 when biking in Pisgah. If you are in a group, never split up if you want to see each other again for the next few hours. Cell phones don't work here Mr. 21st Century guy. Now you might think this is not worthy advice when slogging up Clawhammer. I mean, how could you screw that up ? Just ask Robert and Greg, who at some point veered left off the main way. As such, Calhoun, Holt, Justin, and Kyle ended up at the top of Clawhammer with no Robert or Greg anywhere to be found. They could only assume the two had headed on up Black Mountain, so they did the same. After carrying their bikes the better part of several miles up to what might be deemed the summit of Black Mountain, still no sign of the other two challengers. They had pretty much written them off when they heard a huffing and puffing and Mobley appeared at the summit, assuring them Greg was only like an hour behind. After some photos and food, the Black Mountain descent was begun in earnest, interrupted only when we ran into a group of riders from parts unknown heading up Black Mountain from the Maxwell intersection. Said group realized upon consultation with the Navigator that they should be pointing the other way and everyone gathered at the Maxwell intersection for a brief respite. We pondered (very briefly) letting these guys go first, until we saw one of them start pedaling, fail to clip in all the way, and fall sideways into his good buddy, taking them both out in the process. The ensuing tangle was a sight to behold and almost resulted in fisticuffs. It was then the challengers decided to take the lead, and continued down Black, then also threw in a loop through Sycamore Cove for good measure.

Wheeling into the camp site almost five hours after their adventure had started, this group was stunned to find no one else there. This was the so-called "A-Group" - The fittest riders on the best machinery. Yet, the so-called "B-Group" was no-where to be found ? Turns out, the B-Group in the end covered more miles with their own mini-epic. After riding Clawhammer to Maxwell and down Lower Black, that crew had pedaled to the fish hatchery via 176, then taken Bracken Mountain all the way down into Brevard, and had then proceeded to pedal back towards Pisgah on the bike path, stopping only to have about 12 Ten-Fiddies at Oskar Blues, and then resumed pedaling all the way back to Davidson River campground. Most of them were literally delirious upon their return, or perhaps just hammered. It was congrats all around once everyone was accounted for. The ensuing feast, party, and fire was one to remember. It's too bad I don't remember much. I do remember repeatedly and discreetly re-filling my cup of Blantons from my commemorative bottle hidden in the rhododendron next to Kyle's tent. I remember Clay's snoring. I'm sure everyone else does as well.

The next morning saw the usual cleanup from the prior night's events underway, inter-mingled with a few moments of amazement as Jeff lit up that tree, catching us all off guard. Speaking of Jeff, for those that wanted more punishment, he led them on a great ride, stopping on the way home at a mystery riding area near the Green River Game Lands. There's a camp buried somehwere back in there with their own network of trails, and we had it all to ourselves. That was a nice way to cap off a great weekend. Thanks to everyone that made the effort to attend this year, and thanks to Andy for securing the camp sites in advance and keeping this ship afloat for the last couple of years as the prime mover behind the scenes.  Thanks as well to Gaines Huguely for providing this year's competitors with some awesome T-Shirts.

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