Episode 4: The Hulk

Now Rob had pulled another innocent victim into his web, having talked one of his friends, Mike—a half-marathon, half-Ironman kind of guy—into entering the first-timer event at the next race in Myrtle Beach. All of the races to date in the CCORS series had been within a one- to two-hour drive and were done as day trips. Myrtle Beach, however, is about three hours from Raleigh, so we booked a condo for two nights and planned to bring the wives to make it a full weekend extravaganza. I even threw some golf clubs in the car should the opportunity arise—and made sure it did.

The race venue in Myrtle Beach is called The Hulk, built on a mountain of sand dredged out to create the Intracoastal Waterway on land owned and operated by Horry County. Portions of the trail overlook the waterway, and once again, the trail builders took advantage of a small topographic anomaly in coastal Carolina to create a rootin’-tootin’ roller coaster ride full of near-vertical drops, climbs, bumps, jumps, banked turns, and whatever else they could squeeze into a seven-mile loop.

Totally unique to The Hulk is the use of green, astroturf-like carpeting, the kind you’d find on a miniature golf course. In fact, being Myrtle Beach, there’s a fair chance that’s exactly where much of it came from. Since the trail is close to the beach, on soil so sandy it wouldn’t be able to handle the traffic and abuse of mountain biking, the green carpeting is used to armor the berms, steep slopes, and tabletop jumps to prevent erosion and washout. The result is an incredibly stable, reliable, and fun surface for riding and racing.

Rob and Mike drove down early on Friday to take a spin and familiarize themselves with The Hulk. I had ridden the trail once before as part of an adventure race with my wife about three years prior—not recent enough to be of any benefit on race day. The course setup began with a diabolically steep, rooty, switchback climb right at the start of the singletrack. Judging from the failure rate observed during warm-up attempts, it was bound to create some carnage right from the outset, and it did not disappoint. I wanted no part of that and decided it would be worth putting in the effort to get as close to the front of the field as possible to place myself ahead of any riders who might struggle on the climb and bottle up the field.

Race day is sunny and perfect, considering it’s the end of January, and since we are already in town, we have plenty of time for chit-chat before the race and at the starting line, waiting for the CAT 1 and CAT 2 racers to go off. I end up talking to Gabriel and Dustin, the two guys who have consistently finished in the two spots immediately ahead of me in the prior races. I learn that the CCORS events are Dustin’s first exposure to mountain bike racing as well, so we have a lot in common. In the previous race at Big Branch, I had let him pass me at the end of the hole shot and never caught him on his local trail. Coming off the line this time, I take no prisoners and make sure I am one of the first few riders up the treacherous start. We make a clean ascent of the climb onto the course, so the extra effort is worth it—even though it put me on my limit right away. I have only made it through a few fun rollers before Gabriel and Dustin are on my back wheel, so I let them through.

From there, the course is a rowdy romp, packed with a huge variety of challenging features and terrain. It’s a small package full of passing, thrills, and spills. I witness several crashes and manage to clip a tree myself while taking my eyes off the trail to let a much younger rider make a pass. Once through, he sets an almost perfect pace for me, so I just cling to his wheel for several miles. I shout some encouragement and tell him he’s doing a great job, but he admits his legs are screaming.

Just then, I see Dustin and Gabriel ahead. We must have been gaining on them, so I let the kid know I need to pass him back and make one final charge to try to make the catch. In a closer-than-expected finish, I am unable to close the gap but content with a fun race and a seventh-place finish.

Mike is already at the finish, having successfully completed his one lap in the first-timer race, and Rob rolls in not far behind. Having some supporters of our own to cheer us on was something missing from previous races, so we appreciated seeing them at the finish. Debra and I decided to go out for a partial cool-down lap—me getting some recovery, and her revisiting some course highlights—and we make it back just in time for the podiums.

Something else that had been neglected in previous races was the bike/beer pairing my wife typically seeks out for us following an outing, so Debra and I are off to Independent Republic Brewing for a well-earned post-race beverage. I’m only a few sips in when texts start rolling in from Rob: links to a short track race, a six-hour endurance race, a multi-day stage race!? Someone has clearly been smitten with the whole scene and all things mountain bike racing. I’m going to enjoy this one first, then start checking the calendar.