revisionist

A few sections in tonight's race gave me tunnel vision, somehow years of abuse haven't left me foggy, I was able to look down at the rocks and the dirt laying across and see it for what it is; layers. I felt it all, a little bit of front suspension only goes so far, a singlespeed climbs nearly better than anything else if the gear is right, tonight I was close, 3rd on the night but a great victory over the creeping urge to quit because of rot-gut, I wanted to throw up and see if that helped, I didn't. So, instead I rode the bike and tried to climb well enough to enjoy the descents. I was OK on both accounts. the dirt pushed aside on sections revealed sharper edges, cutting and ripping at what little rhythm I could generate, in the end it was flowy, as much as it could be at least. Seeing the edges and flares where the trail opened up it's lines gave away a little, it shared more than I think it realized. I didn't take more than I needed.