Another one in the bag: my 15th National Championship as Chief Referee

Back when I was assigned to my first national championship (2009, collegiate nats at Northstar, CA, near Reno, NV) I would have never, ever thought that I'd be reassigned to one of the iterations of USAC's most important race of the year not just once or twice, but more than a dozen times. We have different types of mountain bike nationals, from the now-defunct 24-Hour nats (2011, Colorado Springs) and the less-taxing Marathon nats (2019 + 2023) to Gravity (2012) and Endurance nationals (2024) as well as the action-packed Collegiates (2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2015) to the most complex races I have ever worked, our combined Mountain Bike Nationals in those years when Gravity and Endurance events were all folded into one event (2015, 2016, 2017, 2019, 2022). That last combined, weeklong competition in Winter Park, CO, was hands-down the highlight of my officiating career—it doesn't get more intense and complicated in what we do in cycling. Thankfully, USAC has realized that it is near impossible to run this event in all its complexity and still make (almost) everybody happy.

As a result, the United States' mountain bike community congregated last week in Bear Creek Resort, near Macungie, PA, for the second consecutive year for five days of Cross Country and Short Track races instead of seven days with concurrent competitions in Downhill, Dual Slalom, and Enduro. Originally, I had not even thrown my name into the hat for a position on the crew after last year's race at the same venue (with a different chief referee and a different race director) had been stressful and had lacked the fun that even a taxing work schedule must entail if you want to stand a chance of keeping your crew focused for the day-in, day-out rigors of such a competition schedule. Honestly, I just didn't want to go back.

Yes, racing can be FUN!!!

But then, about six weeks ago or so while in Utah, I was approached by USAC's Technical Director Bonnie whether I'd like to take over the Chief Referee position because of some personnel changes. You know how junkies' brains work: It didn't take much to convince me to accept as I was confident that with my experience I would be able to bring positive changes to this year's edition. Once I heard that Tobin would be this year's Race Director and Justin would be around in a new USAC advisory role, I was on-board. Of course, there are never any guarantees that things will be smooth: The weather can have a major impact, and the various stakeholders (made up of the risk manager of Bear Creek as the hosting resort, USA Cycling, Medalist Sports as the folks who sign responsible for the infrastructure, and not least the members of our officiating crew) directly affect the course and day-to-day running of the event—and let's not forget, there are 1,500 athletes and their coaches, parents, and other representatives who all have to be won over to trust that we're not out to ruin their race week. 

I knew I did not have to worry about the crew who was assigned to this event as I had worked with every single member on numerous occasions and thus know their individual strengths (and the slight weaknesses that even the best referees have). Our crew was composed of Ugur, who had just passed his UCI International Commissaire practical exam in Canada and served as my Vice Chief; the incomparable Leslie who IMHO is the best Race Secretary we have for mountain bike races in the US; Telluride resident Cath who was our Finish Judge; rock-solid Deb from New Jersey who can score under the most stressful circumstances; and finally Janet as assistant judge, helping out corralling up to 120 riders for the call-ups and then making sure that our feed and technical assistance zones were safe and orderly. For the final two days, our dear friend and former colleague Lew, who had abdicated from officiating several years ago, came out and was invaluable in the feedzone on the days when things were really busy. To round out our crew (even he was never formally assigned) was Efe, a friend of Ugur's from Turkey who stayed on our pull-out couch and was worth his diminutive weight in at least köfte kebabs,if not gold. Yes, we're one big family at these events!

Quite frankly, after having presided over nats the last time two years ago at the combined event in Winter Park, CO, I went into the race relaxed and confident. With RD Tobin I had worked behind the scenes on making sure that our schedule was well-thought out (well, not totally 100% as we had not allowed enough time for our results process so that all awards ceremonies had to be postponed by 30 minutes) and that other aspects of the race were on target, but there was none of that stressful juggling of human resources to fill three positions with only two available commissaires. Our pre-race meeting was brief and calm, with everybody clear about tasks and expectations. When one works with pros one doesn't need to tell them how to do their job. A slight adjustment, maybe, here, a suggestion there, but trust and confidence go a long, long way. Once I was satisfied with how things were running I let them be on auto-pilot, not inserting myself into the minutiae of their jobs.

This doesn't mean that working a race like this is easy. The hours are long, and the environmental conditions are extremely challenging. We had three days when the heat index, thanks to impossibly high humidity and temperatures approaching the 90s, was almost unbearable. I came back from my first course inspection (mostly in the shade!) wet as a poodle, as if I had fallen into a swimming pool. Many of the racers in the most competitive categories wore ice vests or at least had a soigneur who held an umbrella (giver of "shade") for the 15 minutes they spent in the staging area, but we were out for 9+ hours in these conditions. Believe it or not, but my crew's physical well-being was as much on my mind as making sure the races were smooth. Making sure that everyone has water and gets lunch is just as important as everything else that being chief ref entails.

One of the things I enjoy about officiating is that, in general, the vast majority of racers and support personnel are genuinely good folks who love the sport just as much as I do. We live in a symbiotic relationship: Without the racers, we as commissaires wouldn't get to go to the races, and without us commissaires, the racers wouldn't have valid contests. Of course, there are always a few instances where a decision has to be made that some racers don't want to hear, and on rare occasions things may escalate, like back in Mammoth back in 2015 when a racer told me, as agitated as one can become, that he "really wanted to hit" me. Well, thankfully none of that this year. Instead, there were more smiles than I have ever seen at such an event. People came up to me, greeting me by name, and telling me how much they were enjoying the race and what a great job everyone was doing. Holy Moses! All this made us try even harder.

The daily racers' meeting

Thanks to our nightly racers' meetings people know my face (and the mustache) as well as my name. Since I have been doing this job for a while, I have been exposed to literally thousands of people, and many of them remember me. And of course, everybody expects me to remember that conversation that we had back in 2014! It's a bit on the embarrassing side, but my brain is just not wired right, I suppose, so I don't remember just that particular instance, or even the event. It becomes especially embarrassing when someone comes up with his wife and children and refers to something that happened years ago and introduces me to his loved ones with whatever reference it is to how fairly I treated him and then insists on taking a photo with all of us. It is humbling, I tell you, humbling and yet a wonderful feeling at the same time. And of course, if I do remember somebody because we have run into each other so often that I recall not just face but name, well, then it's like a family reunion.

As I said, the days on the mountain are long. In six days I clocked just shy of 17 hours of overtime, and we don't go into OT until we have worked already nine hours. Luckily, our rooms were literally two minutes away from our race office, so that made life a little nicer. Accomodations at Bear Creek were rather Spartan, with officials having to share rooms for an entire week and the condos not even having a kitchenette—we had to make do with a small microwave and a dorm refrigerator. For a week, that is not adequate, especially not for a national championship where folks are working long hours every day and everyone of us has a professional job (or used to have one). When the CEO of USAC is making well into the six figures a year you'd think there'd be the money to house us in an appropriate fashion.... USAC has a contract with a mtn bike venue close to Roanoke, VA, for the next two years, so let's hope for the sake of future crews that this aspect will be addressed.

One night our group of officials went to the nearby Lehigh Valley Velodrome (now officially called the Valley Preferred Cycling Center), one of the most fabled tracks in the country. I had never seen it, and it certainly was interesting to catch the Friday evening vibe of the local races in this outdoor concrete facility, including the tandem sprint races that used to be part of the Olympics. After that we had dinner in an adjacent local establishment, the McCall Collective Brewing Taproom. Yeah for them! We had two other evenings when we were able to eat off the premises, one night at the Anatolian Kitchen (Ugur is from Turkey and insisted on going there for yummy Turkish fare) and one night in the Buckeye Tavern in Macungie. The rest of our meals consisted of frozen pizzas, corn-on-the-cob, and sausages (mild and spicy) made consumable in the microwave. Frankly, officiating should not be a gourmet's first career choice!

I am proud of the fact that with the exception of one race (delayed by 60 seconds because of a call-up SNAFU) all competitions started dead on time. Kudos go to Ugur and Janet as well as our announcers Hoop and Mikey who were all in total sync. We had no protests in regard to faulty results, just one penalty for feeding in the technical assistance zone up on top of the mountain ($30!!!), and less than a handful of other issues that required my intervention. Every day I kept thinking, "This is way too smooth!" I was really worried about the shit hitting the fan totally out of the blue, out of some direction that nobody had foreseen, but it never happened. So, when we finally finished the UCI Elite Men's XCO on Sunday afternoon, I breathed a big sigh of relief. Of course we were a little bit lucky, but as they say, luck usually follows those who have prepared for the worst. I ended up the event with a good conversation with my old friend Justin, exchanging suggestions for next year's championship to make it even more perfect, if that's indeed possible.

On Monday it was time to fly home, and for most of us (flying AA and United) it was a day of bearable delays as the US and the world were still recovering from the CrowdStrike software update that had gone awry days earlier (but had not affected our race's IT infrastructure). Unfortunately, some of our staffers who were flying Delta were in the same boat as thousands of other stranded travelers and had an extra day on the road. I for my part made it home a little after midnight, another successful National Championship on my resume. Will there be a #16 in the years to come?

Jürgen

Two weeks of sometimes emotional riding-fun in Bavaria and Austria

For the past decade or so, my first Ritchey BreakAway had been living in a cellar in Freising, waiting for my occasional visit and outings with Sabine that were not limited to just the immediate local roads but also included other adventures. But with time never standing still, circumstances started to change and recently necessitated repatriating the bike to the US. With a two-week window to fly to Europe in the middle of my busy refereeing schedule I decided to hop across the pond and do what needed to be done.

The bike is a cyclocross-style bike, made of steel, with braze-ons and cantilever brake bosses on the seat stays that anchor a set Paul's Mini Moto brakes; the carbon fork is home to an Ultegra caliper binder. For years I had kept the bike as a single-speed in Berlin with my dad, but after his death I had brought it back to Lubbock and re-converted it back to a geared bike with a Di2 drivetrain. Apart from the occasional cleaning, the bike never required any service in all those years, and the 265 miles I rode over the past two weeks were just as smooth and mechanically sound as always. Good bike! Now I just have to figure out how to use it in the future.

Sabine and I had a rough patch—very rough—during the Pandemic and beyond, but we have been able to once again return to the deep friendship that we started back in the early 1970s in an Education First language course in Bournemouth, England. That's a lot of time to know somebody, and we are both glad that we have been able to salvage this relationship. If it weren't for unrelated external circumstances, my bike could have quite possibly stayed in Freising, but unfortunately our hand was forced.

So much for a bit of background, in case someone was wondering.

Since retiring from her landscape architecture job for the City of Munich early this year, Sabine is no longer bound by strict work schedules. The plan was to go for a few rides on those beautiful roads surrounding Freising before heading for a few days to Austria. We didn't have any exact plans before my arrival, yet we managed to easily decide on the Wachau, an area just west of Vienna, for a short cycling vacation.

The first four days of my stay in Germany were warm, mostly sunny, and pleasant, and our daily rides ended with a refreshing swim in one of the many lakes. There are two of them in the immediate neighborhood that have a clothing-optional area, so one can just get off the bike, strip down, and cool off before riding another three kilometers home. (I had taken my Tailfin rack-pack so we could pack small towels.) Temperatures weren't all that high—mid-70s to low 80s—but the humidity was quite potent, so that post-ride dip was heavenly.

Freising must have some of the best roads for cycling that I have ever seen, Provence excepted. Most of the narrow pathways are paved with the smoothest asphalt you'll ever encounter, and larger roads have dedicated bike lanes or cycle paths. (Gravel options exist as well.) One can choose between climbs (our first ride featured three of them in short succession at the beginning of the ride, damn near killing me) or flat roads, often in forests or through cornfields and pastures. Here in Lubbock we can't even imagine that such a paradisiacal place exists. I had really been missing riding in this terrain for the past three or four years.

On the day of our departure for Austria the weather turned cool and rainy in Freising, so our timing was perfect. Some parts of the Alps were receiving heavy downpours that caused flooding and landslides, but the part of Nieder-Österreich, or Lower Austria, where we were heading was spared any of that for the duration of our stay. We had found a perfect Airbnb, somewhat north of Sankt Pölten and south of Krems, just a few kilometers away from the mighty Danube river. Our place had a large garden that we could use, plus an exceptional pool. It's hard to believe that this beautiful home was not yet booked when we reserved it just three days before our arrival.

I had heard of the Wachau before but never paid any attention to its location or topography or other attributes. In this area, the Danube flows roughly west to east, forming a large valley. It is possible to ride on a paved bike path along its banks all the way from Germany into Hungary and beyond, and lots of bike tourists do just that. Many of them use eBikes that are heavily loaded with panniers, bedrolls, and the kitchen sink (or so it seems), and unless they are day tourists exploring the immediate neighborhood they all do the smart thing and ride downstream. In many areas, the bike route utilizes both banks of Europe's largest river, and there are plenty of bridges and ferries to get to the other side.

The Wachau is home to vast vineyards, producing both excellent reds and whites. Additionally, there are orchards galore, and our arrival coincided with the official start of the Marillen season, a type of large apricot that is oh-so-sweet. The three rides we took stayed either close to the Danube (fairly flat) or took us through undulating hills, almost all of it on dedicated cycle paths or tiny roads. Traffic was almost non-existent, and if there was a car, the driver was courteous and patient. 

On our second day in the Wachau the weather forecast was rather iffy, so we decided to go for an excursion by car that took us through the hills north of the Danube to the historic town of Melk. Located on a hillside above the river is Stift Melk, a Benedictine abbey that dates back almost 1,000 years, to 1089. We went on a guided tour of the impressive building (its west side is 198 meters long!), and of course we enjoyed the immaculate gardens. The abbey is home to the oldest Austrian school in continuous use, and of course it's a designated UNESCO World Heritage site. After that visit we strolled through the small town and enjoyed a tasty lunch. Maybe best of all: The weather held all day while just a few miles back east rain poured down.

A couple of nights we grilled our dinner and enjoyed our backyard, and the other evenings we went out to a local Heuriger, generally a small local restaurant, often family run, that features local specialties. How does wild boar roast sound, or duck in aspic? Local knödels anyone? Blunzen and Gröstl with local Kren (a fatty blood sausage with fried-up potatoes and finely grated horseradish)? Wanna add to that a glass or two of Grüner Veltliner or a red Zweigelt? Prices are not really low, even out in the provinces, but part of the reason is that 20% VAT is automatically included in the printed price of the meal, and the tip is more or less built in as well; one just rounds up the bill from, say, €61,80 to €65,00. It's always fun for me to spend my ITA-earned money without really thinking about what I pay.

After four nights in the small hamlet of Palt we loaded the bikes back into the Skoda and detoured east toward Vienna. I had a hotel certificate that was going to expire in September and had suggested that we'd use it for an extra night in the capital. The certificate is an annual benefit for holders of the Marriott Bonvoy credit card ($99), and we stayed in a nice room in Marriott's Autograph Collection, the Imperial Riding School, a historic building not far from the center. Heck of a deal!

It had been quite some time since I had last been to Vienna, and with only one night in the city we simply walked around the old city center. Under perfectly blue skies it seemed as if the entire world was out for a stroll. Note to self: It might be fun to dedicate a longer stay to this historic city with its magnificent buildings and constant reminders of how important it once was. If you're interested in relocating to Wien, the Economist has ranked it the Most Liveable City three years in a row, and its housing prices are way below the European average. Our detour was definitely a success.

We returned on Sunday afternoon to Freising, in time for more sunshine on Monday and a last ride before I had to disassemble and pack the Ritchey on Tuesday, for my early morning flight on Wednesday. I have to say, it was an emotional ride for me, not knowing when I'll be able to return. Regardless of when that may be, I'll have to lug around another piece of luggage and play mechanic when for the past ten years things were much easier. But then, who knows what will happen, and maybe in a year or two the Ritchey will return to Bavaria or somewhere else to live out its days. 

Thankfully, British Airways and American treated my luggage with care, and when I finally made it to Lubbock Wednesday evening, both the bike case as well as my rolling duffel were in excellent shape.

And now it is Friday evening here in Texas, 48 hours later. After a ride this morning I spent much of the afternoon working on details in regard to next week's task, our USA Cycling Cross Country National Championships in Pennsylvania. Whatever fitness I gained over these past two weeks will once again evaporate. C'est la vie, I suppose.

Jürgen