Back in January, I decided that I would attempt the Dirty Kanza 200 gravel road race in Emporia, Kansas on June 04, 2011. I get registered along with about 300 to 350 others. I figure if everything goes perfect for me, it should take me from 18 to 20 hours to finish. In hindsight, that was mighty hopeful thinking for me. For perspective, several friends did the 2010 DK and one took about 16.5 hours and the other about 20 hours to finish.
I get a bit of distant racing in prior to the DK. In March, I do a 6 hour race at Northshore on my ss and clock about 66 miles. I do the OC on my ss in early April which takes me about 7 hours. At the end of April, I do a Spinistry event up near Muenster on my Waltworks with the rigid fork, the setup I plan to use at the DK. I get in about 105 miles in about 9 hours and determine that I need to put some skinny tires on my bike instead of the Crossmarks I currently have on it. I do Syllamo's Revenge in mid May on my ss and get about 6.5 hours of saddle time plus another hour of flat time. Two weeks before DK, Kevin Lee and I get about 75 miles of gravel riding in about 6 hours. I ride my WW's setup the way I plan to roll in Emporia. Everything seems to be about right.
About a week before the race, I start monitoring the weather and see that on race day they are predicting temps from the high 80's to the the low 90's in Emporia. I know temps in this range are going to kill me because I will have to scale my effort way back. The normal high in Emporia for June 04 is 81 degrees.
On June 03, 2011, Kevin and I head up, drop his Spinistry Trailer at the second checkpoint in Florence, Kansas and then drive on to Emporia. We get checked in to the hotel, go pick up our registration packets, bump into some other folks from DFW, eat dinner, attend the rider's meeting and then back to the hotel at a decent hour.
Kevin and I get all of our gear ready and then lights out. We get up a little before 5 am on race day, get loaded and make the 3 mile drive to the race start.
We make it to the start line and at 6 am, the race is on. The first check point is in Cassoday which is 58 miles away. Knowing this is going to be an extra long day, I had decided that I am going to keep my effort pretty low, heart rate in the 140's and draft off of folks for as long as practical. After about 3 or 4 miles of pavement, we are dumped onto gravel. I settled into my comfortable pace and jump into a decent pace line.
Clean and I end up riding around each other for 10 or 15 miles and for the first 20 miles or so, their are lots of riders around. I ride up on Matt Kocian during this time and ride with him a bit as well. After a few rolling hills, Kansas is not near as flat as folks say, the groups start thinning out pretty good. I find myself with 3 or 4 other riders and we each take a pull at the front of our group. During my pull, I ride harder than I intended to, but I felt obligated since I had sucked wheel while the others in the group did their turns at the front. After a few miles, I decided that this effort was too hard this early on and let the group ride away.
Around mile 25 or so, we get to a climb they call Texaco, presumably due to the gas well that are prevalent in the area. Although it is not real steep, I believe it goes on for several miles. By now, most folks are either riding by themselves or in groups of two or three.
As far as the weather, it was probably in the mid 70's when we started at 6 am with a 15 t0 20 mph wind out of the southwest with higher gusts. Just so happens that the first 58 mile leg of the race had the riders riding in a southwestern direction.
The scenery up to now is beautiful Kansas grasslands, no trees to speak of, lots of cattle, very few houses and even less vehicle traffic.
About mile 30 or so, I stop at the top of a decent climb and place a bandanna under my helmet and let it drape down to cover the back of my neck, head and sides of my face. It is probably around 8:30, temp in the low 80's, a stiff wind and barely a cloud in the sky. And since the start, I have been drinking my Poweraid Endurance drink, spiked with light salt and eating Honey Stinger Waffles, which is giving me around 300 calories an hour.
I take off after only a few minutes and start ticking the miles off. I am passing far more riders than pass me and overall, I am feeling really good with only a few issues. My left knee, which as been aching a bit over the last few months, is aching a bit. My left hamstring, which has been feeling a bit tight over the last few months as well, is feeling a bit tight. And lastly, my bib shorts, which I have not had a problem with in the past, are cutting into my seat area where the chamois meets my skin at my upper leg and lower buttocks. This is really annoying and getting a bit painful. I even stop and reapply chamois cream that I am carrying with me.
For the next 20 miles or so to check point 1, I continue knocking down the miles, mainly riding by myself but almost always have riders in sight, either in front or behind me.
I roll into checkpoint 1 at 10:30 am, 58 miles, and get my map to the next check point. I see Foster and Charity and Foster asked if I need anything. They are both supporting several riders in the event. I tell Foster I will take some water if he can spare it. I had planned to buy water at the convenience store but it looked to be overwhelmed. Foster helps me fill up my camelbak and bottles, I dump my powder in them. Charity gives me several orange wedges and I consume them. Foster tells me I am about 20 minutes behind Rev and about 5 minutes behind Clean, Chaos, Ocean and Green. I roll out, probably being stopped less than 10 minutes.
By now, i guess the temp is close to 90, nary a cloud in the sky and the stiff wind is still blowing, primarily in my face. The heat is really becoming a factor and due to the strong wind, I cannot tell if I am sweating or not. So, periodically, I put my hand inside my jersey to assure myself that I am still sweating.
On the first leg, I probably rode past 40 to 50 riders fixing flats and half that many seeking shade at the few tree's on the route.
Now, almost every tree that I ride upon on the course, and there are not many, there was almost always a rider seeking the shade it offered to cool off.
About mile 65, I follow a group of riders thru a 4 way intersection and we continue on about a mile when we observe a group of riders riding towards us. As the groups meet, we determine that some knuckle head had moved the course markings at the intersection and we should have tuned left. The group returns to the intersection, makes the appropriate turn and continues on.
Probably around mile 70, our group rides up on another group of stopped riders at a t-intersection. The riders are consulting their maps, smart phones, and making phone calls trying to determine the correct direction we are to travel. Apparently, the knuckleheads had removed the course markings here as well. While this is going on, I chat with Clean and Ocean, who are in the group. Clean appears to be finishing up fixing a flat. I talk with them a minute, others in the group determine the right direction. I bid Clean and Ocean farewell and take off.
Around mile 80 or so, my back tire goes flat. Considering I have seen probably 50 or 60 people repairing flats already, I figure I was due. I go about the business of fixing the flat. About halfway thru the fix, Clean rides by, laughs a bit and keeps pedaling. I get a tube in, was initially rolling tubeless, get it aired up and get going again.
It is probably around 1 pm now and the temp is in the low 90's with the stiff in your face wind still. It is really hot and miserable and I am tired of drinking my drink because it is tasting too sweet along with my Honey Stinger Waffles, which are really sweet too.
By now, folks are laid out under every tree I pass trying to cool off. I continue on and come upon a BMW SUV on the course that is picking up a rider around mile 88 or so. I ask if they have any water and the driver gives me an ice cold bottle of Ozarka which I down. Another rider rides up and they give him a bottle of the same. I ask if they could spare another bottle and they give me another one without hesitation. I down it as well. The driver of the SUV tells us that he was handing out water all along the course while en route to pick up his rider.
I thank him for the water, pedal about 10 feet and flatten my rear tire for the second time. I set about changing the flat, place a new tube in, get it pumped up and then off again.
About mile 95 or so, I fly down a rocky section of road and cut my front tire. My third flat in about 15 miles. I go about changing this flat. Several cars pass me heading onto the course and appear to be looking for riders. I get the flat changed and get going again.
About now, I decided that I would throw the towel in at checkpoint 2. The heat has to be in the mid 90's, the wind is still unrelenting, my ass is feeling pretty raw from my bibs and I had gotten a bad case of chills for a few seconds. And, to make things worse, I had erased all the info on my bike computer about 2 hours earlier so I am guesstimating my mileage and asking riders as I pass them or them me. For some reason, I keeping erasing the info every time I punch a button on it. Oh well.
Finally, around mile 100 or so, I hear a train. I know there is a train track near the second checkpoint. My spirits raise a bit and I keeping trucking on. I then roll into the second checkpoint around 3 pm, which is 1.5 hours before the cutoff, tell the race folks I am done and then head towards the Spinistry Trailer that is parked at the store just down the way.
Once at the trailer, I open it up, down some ice cold water. Get a few towels that we have iced down in some coolers and cool my body with them. I then lay down in the shade of the trailer and continue trying to cool down because I am about as hot as I have ever been. I then check my phone and the temp reads 98 degrees.
I chill for about 1.5 hours and then finally determine that I need to head back over to the checkpoint area and see if I can find us a ride back to Emporia, which is about 40 miles away. Specifically, I am looking for Ben Wright's dad, who is crewing for him. I ride over, locate him and he agrees to give Kevin and I a ride back to Emporia. He then tells me that Ben is being sagged in and that he was told that about 1/2 of the riders are bailing out of the race due to the conditions.
In a few, Ben makes it in with the help of a local Jeep Club that is assisting on the course. Ben tells me that Kevin is a few miles from the finish. I ride back onto the route and find Kevin about a mile from the finish. I ride in with him. He makes it to checkpoint to about 5 pm. Kevin tells me that Ocean was out on the course in bad condition and that Charity was on her way to pick him up.
We get to the trailer, get out bikes loaded, get it locked up and get picked up by Ben Wright and we are on our way to Emporia.
Back in Emporia, we get showered up, grab a pizza buffet, and then head to the finish line. We find out that a tandem finished first in about 12:58. The second place came in at about 13:10 and was a solo rider.
Ben Thorton finished in a little over 16 hours. Mike Smith finished in about 20 hours. Clean, Chaos, Green all bailed around mile 130.
Out of about 270 that started, only 68 finished.
All in all, it was a good day. Did not wreck or get hurt. Did not tear up my bike. Brutally hot. Very nice scenery. Learned that Kansas is not as flat as one thinks. Saw a lot of heart and effort.
Who knows if I will go back. I would like to finish, but 100 degree endurance events are not my thing.
Steven
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Syllamo's Revenge 2011
Head up to Mt. View Arkansas a few days early for Syallamo's Revenge which will be on Saturday, May 14, 2011. My mom is in tow which is usual for these events. Haven't been to this race since 2008.
I get to Mt. View, get checked into the hotel and head over to the trail to take a little spin. I am on my ss and running 32x21. I spin around a bit and then take on the 1 mile climb with about a 11 percent grade. I don't kill myself on the climb. Once at the top, I turn right onto the single track and ride it for a couple of miles before it startes getting muddy. I turn around and ride back out to the jeep road climb, go furter up it and then head back to the car. I get about a hour of riding in. Get back to the hotel and mom and I go and get some dinner.
Friday morning, I head back to the trail and catch the Bad Branch section, which is about 13 miles of the sweetest flowing single track of the entire Syllamo's trail. I ride it at a pretty chill pace, finish up and head back to the hotel. Mom and I then go up into town where she can check out the shops and I pick up my registration packet. We catch dinner and get back to the hotel.
A storm rolls thru and it rains a good 2 inches or so before morning.
I get up Saturday morning to temps in the low 50's with a stiff northish wind. I get over to the race start and boom, it is on.
I ride pretty hard for the first 1/4 mile to make it do the climb before all of the really slow folks. I enter the climb and then set into my pace grinding out the next 1 mile. I make the top of the climb and then take the right turn into the single track.
The trail, which usually drains really well, is showing signs of the 2 inches of rain the nite before and the 10 or so inches of rain in the last 10 days or so. It is not long before folks are dismounting and making their way over mud and water slickened rocks that are virtually unrideable. The going is pretty slow due to all of the riders in front of me dismounting and navigating the rocks. All is well because it is doubtful that I could of ridden these sections anyways.
About mile 6 or so, I see Cope pushing his bike against the flow of traffic. He tells me that his steerer tube has cracked and he is done.
A few miles later, I have to stop and remove my long sleeve base layer because I am heating up bad, even thou the temps are still in the mid 50's.
I get going again and a few miles later, I notice my front tire getting really soft. I stop and air it up and get going again. Probably 1 mile later, I pull into the first aid station at about mile 15 and the tire goes completely flat. I put 1 of the 3 tubes that I am carrying into the front tire and get going again.
In probably less than a mile or so, I hear the rear tire loosing air every now and again. My sealant is trying to seal the tire so I am hopeful. The tire keeps loosing air and I stop and add air to it a time or two.
At around mile 25, I come back by the first aid station and use a floor pump to add more air to the tire. I then see a Big Pig rider, roady, who is out of the race due to a mechanical. I ask him if he has any tubes he can spare and he gives me 2.
I take off and within a couple of miles, the rear tire gets really low so I stop and put my second tube in. I get rolling again and within 3 or 4 miles, the rear tire goes flat again. I stop again and put my third tube of the day into the rear tire.
The next 5 or 6 miles are pretty uneventful. Just lots of mud and really misreable trail conditions in the bottom areas that we are riding.
I make it to checkpoint 3 which is around mile 37 or so. I now get to do the Bad Branch section which I had ridden the day before. I knock this section out in little more than an hour and roll back into checkpoint 3 which is now checkpoint 4.
From here, I have about 1 mile or so of single track and then I get to bomb down the 1 mile climb that started this thing.
I roll across the finish line in 7:35.
It goes without saying that I never got into a rythm on this one. Probably wasted atleast 1 hour dealing with the tire and flat issues.
Oh well. I did not hurt myself or destroy my bike so all was good.
It will probably be another 3 years, if ever, before I go back to Syllamos. All 3 times I have done this race it has been a wet and muddy mess and I hate those type of conditions.
Later,
Steven
I get to Mt. View, get checked into the hotel and head over to the trail to take a little spin. I am on my ss and running 32x21. I spin around a bit and then take on the 1 mile climb with about a 11 percent grade. I don't kill myself on the climb. Once at the top, I turn right onto the single track and ride it for a couple of miles before it startes getting muddy. I turn around and ride back out to the jeep road climb, go furter up it and then head back to the car. I get about a hour of riding in. Get back to the hotel and mom and I go and get some dinner.
Friday morning, I head back to the trail and catch the Bad Branch section, which is about 13 miles of the sweetest flowing single track of the entire Syllamo's trail. I ride it at a pretty chill pace, finish up and head back to the hotel. Mom and I then go up into town where she can check out the shops and I pick up my registration packet. We catch dinner and get back to the hotel.
A storm rolls thru and it rains a good 2 inches or so before morning.
I get up Saturday morning to temps in the low 50's with a stiff northish wind. I get over to the race start and boom, it is on.
I ride pretty hard for the first 1/4 mile to make it do the climb before all of the really slow folks. I enter the climb and then set into my pace grinding out the next 1 mile. I make the top of the climb and then take the right turn into the single track.
The trail, which usually drains really well, is showing signs of the 2 inches of rain the nite before and the 10 or so inches of rain in the last 10 days or so. It is not long before folks are dismounting and making their way over mud and water slickened rocks that are virtually unrideable. The going is pretty slow due to all of the riders in front of me dismounting and navigating the rocks. All is well because it is doubtful that I could of ridden these sections anyways.
About mile 6 or so, I see Cope pushing his bike against the flow of traffic. He tells me that his steerer tube has cracked and he is done.
A few miles later, I have to stop and remove my long sleeve base layer because I am heating up bad, even thou the temps are still in the mid 50's.
I get going again and a few miles later, I notice my front tire getting really soft. I stop and air it up and get going again. Probably 1 mile later, I pull into the first aid station at about mile 15 and the tire goes completely flat. I put 1 of the 3 tubes that I am carrying into the front tire and get going again.
In probably less than a mile or so, I hear the rear tire loosing air every now and again. My sealant is trying to seal the tire so I am hopeful. The tire keeps loosing air and I stop and add air to it a time or two.
At around mile 25, I come back by the first aid station and use a floor pump to add more air to the tire. I then see a Big Pig rider, roady, who is out of the race due to a mechanical. I ask him if he has any tubes he can spare and he gives me 2.
I take off and within a couple of miles, the rear tire gets really low so I stop and put my second tube in. I get rolling again and within 3 or 4 miles, the rear tire goes flat again. I stop again and put my third tube of the day into the rear tire.
The next 5 or 6 miles are pretty uneventful. Just lots of mud and really misreable trail conditions in the bottom areas that we are riding.
I make it to checkpoint 3 which is around mile 37 or so. I now get to do the Bad Branch section which I had ridden the day before. I knock this section out in little more than an hour and roll back into checkpoint 3 which is now checkpoint 4.
From here, I have about 1 mile or so of single track and then I get to bomb down the 1 mile climb that started this thing.
I roll across the finish line in 7:35.
It goes without saying that I never got into a rythm on this one. Probably wasted atleast 1 hour dealing with the tire and flat issues.
Oh well. I did not hurt myself or destroy my bike so all was good.
It will probably be another 3 years, if ever, before I go back to Syllamos. All 3 times I have done this race it has been a wet and muddy mess and I hate those type of conditions.
Later,
Steven
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Ouachita Challenge 2011
On April 02, 2011, I head up to Oden, Arkansas for my fifth consecutive year of the 60 mile Ouachita Challenge that is on April 03, 2011.
Race day, I leave my hotel in Mena, Aransas, which is about 30 miles from Oden, about 6:30 am and arrive in Mena right about 7:00 am which gives me plenty of time to get ready for the 8:00am start. This year, I hear that there would be about 8 miles of pavement and then dirt roads before we reached the single track. Since I would be riding the race on my singlespeed, gearing 34x21, I knew that the beginning would be relatively slow going in relation to the majority of the riders that would be on geared bikes. I line up near the back of the 200 plus riders just prior to the 8:00 am start.
At 8:00 am, the race starts and we are led out of the Oden School parking lot with an escort. The start is downhill and within a 1/2 mile or so, the vast majority of the riders have easily ridden away from me as I spin like crazy just to keep them in sight. After about 2 or 3 miles I guess, I don't have a computer on my bike, the pavement turns into dirt. Since the race started, I have been passing a few riders here and there but nothing to really brag about. Once the road turns to dirt, we start getting some rolling hills and climbs. On most of these hills and climbs, I start catching and passing some riders that are slowing way down on them. Around this time, I also get into a group of three geared riders who let me draft off of them on some of the flat sections which is a big help. After 2 really big climbs, riders are directed to take a right turn onto the single track that is the Big Brushy portion of the Ouachita Challenge. This road portion took about 45 minutes for me to knock off.
Once into the single track, I get into a group of about 10 riders and seem to be making decent time. They are slowing me up at most of the small climbs and inclines but I do not see much of a reason so take chances to get past the rider in front of me only to have 7 or 8 more directly in front of me still. After probably 5 miles, we come to a down hill section and there is a rider that is down and 3 or 4 that are assisting him. It appears that he wrecked really hard and his right shoulder is slumped awkwardly. One of the assisting riders is on the phone calling for help so our group soilders on. A few miles later, I do a slo-motion endo as I am creeping along slowly and my front tire abruptly stops against a large rock. My hands stop my forward motion and I kinda land sideways on my feet. No harm no foul.
At about the 1.5 hour mark, I start smelling smoke, then see smoke and then fire. I then see Cope, Chaos, Brad and Dana and they are attempting to put out a forest fire that appears to have started right at the trails edge. I yell and scream at them, them at me, and then I continue on. A mile or so later, we get dumped out at the first aid station which I think is about 20 miles or so. I refill one bottle, get some gel put in my flask and take off.
Best I remember, I travel a mile or two on a dirt road and then enter the Blow Out Mountain portion of the ride. This section is probably about 8 or 10 miles and has lots of rock gardens. I am with a group of about 5 riders. Some of the smaller rock gardens we ride thru. Many of the rock gardens with large rocks are to0 sketchy for me to ride, as well as the other's in this group, so we hike thru them. This section is painfully slow and always has been for me on my four previous rides here. I make it through Blowout Mountain and guess I am around mile 32 or so and probably close to the 4 hour mark. A volunteer tells me I have about 10 miles of road until the Womble section of the race.
By now, the temp is probably close to 80 degrees, humid, and a strong southernly wind gusting to around 30 mph which is far from ideal for a long race. I set forth spinning like crazy again since my choice of gearing was not for these road sections. I pass a few geared riders and they seem to have no interest in developing a paceline and working together. After several miles, I see two riders gaining on me. As they catch me, it is a male a female on geared bikes and in Bicycle Plus outfits. They tell me to jump in behind them as they go by, which I was planning on doing anyways. I jump in and automatically gain 3 or 4 mph drafting off of them with the same amount of effort. The male pulls for a mile or so, then the female, and then my turn. I pull for a while and as we go thru Sims, the wind is pretty much head on. I look behind me and I have ridden away from my two companions who are now about 100 yards behind me. I continue pushing a good pace for another mile or so and then back back off a bit.
I have been drinking pretty regularly form the two bottles on my bikes which I had filled with water and Poweraid Endurance mix. I had refilled one at an earlier stop with Heed which was provided by the race. I dislike the taste of heed but oh well. I had also filled a gel flask with some Hammer Gel at the same stop. The flavor was some coffee variety which I really can't stand. Oh well again. I am still behind my self prescribed calorie intake of about 300 calories an hour but I usually always am. I make it to the next aid station which is right around the 40 mile mark. I fill a bottle with water, eat a few pickles, some orange pieces, some banana pieces, grab some cookies and cliff bar pieces.
The volunteers tell me that this is the last full aid station before the finish but there is a water station in about 5 or 6 miles. I believe I get my first check point zip tie at this time from an elderly female volunteer. She does ask me about my bike not having gears and I confirm that it does not. She seems dumbfounded. Right about now, I am feeling pretty dumbfounded as well. The heat is pretty bad. My legs are cooked. I have not cramped yet but have been nursing my legs for about the last hour or so to keep them from cramping.
I now enter the Womble portion of the race. The Womble section is generally considered the crown jewel of this event. It is real flowy, not a lot of climbing and just a real pleasure to ride. Odddly, right off the bat, there is a long incline which I walk most of to keep my legs from cramping. I get passed by a few geared riders that are riding along just a bit faster than I am walking. Once at the top, I get back on my bike and get after the Womble. I catch up with a few riders and we ride most of the trail for the next 4 or 5 miles together. Our group stops for some of the steeper climbs and walk them. I make it to the next dirt road crossing and the volunteer instructs me onto the singletrack across the road. He says I have about 5 miles of singletrack and I will come back to this crossing that he is watching. Then, about 10 miles to the finish which is all road, both dirt and pavement, and mostly all downhill.
As I am talking to the volunteer, I see several riders coming up the steep dirt road climb towards him and wishing I were them. I take off and the next 5 miles or so are pretty uneventful. Nice flowing single track, not a lot of climbing, but some. Not a lot of walking, but some. By now, the temp is probably in the mid 80's, or warmer. After about 3 miles, I come to the second and final check point and receive my last zip tie. The volunteer tells me that I have about 2 miles back to the last crossing and then 10 miles to the finish. I ride about a mile or so of the singletrack and then out onto a dirt road. I then ride for a bit and come to a really steep climb that is probably 1/2 mile long and ends at the last aid/water station. I ride about half of it and then my legs start getting a little twitchy. I get off my bike, to keep my legs from cramping, and push the last bit up to the aid station. I fill both of my bottles with water, dump some water on my head and take off for the finish.
I have about 3 or 4 miles of dirt road that is mostly downhill or flat. I get pasted by several geared riders once again, including a big dude that told me he weighed 285, who I had battled back and forth with for the last several hours. I would pass him on the uphill portions of the single track, and even the uphill portions of the roads. Once things would flatten out, or turn downhill on the roads, he would zoom past me like I was going backwards. This dirt road finally dumps me out onto pavement.
Thankfully, the wind is mainly at my back and helping to push me along. I get passed by about 3 or 4 more geared riders. After about 4 miles of pavement, I am directed back towards the Oden School where the finish is. This year, the race promoters put the finish line at the top of a grass hill that I believed they are calling vomit hill. No way am I going to get off of my bike and walk this hill to the finish. I make the 100 yard climb without any problems and cross the finish line in 7 hours and 16 minutes and about 60 miles.
The heat was a big factor today and for sure the hottest endurance race I have done to date. My fitness level was about what I expected. I have only been doing aerobic rides since last August except for two 1.5 hour XC races back in September and October which had me redlined for the entire efforts. I have a really good base but not much top end fitness currently.
All in all, I was very pleased. I was not injured. Did not have any mechanicals. And, enjoyed some of the best singletrack in the southern hemisphere.
Steven
Race day, I leave my hotel in Mena, Aransas, which is about 30 miles from Oden, about 6:30 am and arrive in Mena right about 7:00 am which gives me plenty of time to get ready for the 8:00am start. This year, I hear that there would be about 8 miles of pavement and then dirt roads before we reached the single track. Since I would be riding the race on my singlespeed, gearing 34x21, I knew that the beginning would be relatively slow going in relation to the majority of the riders that would be on geared bikes. I line up near the back of the 200 plus riders just prior to the 8:00 am start.
At 8:00 am, the race starts and we are led out of the Oden School parking lot with an escort. The start is downhill and within a 1/2 mile or so, the vast majority of the riders have easily ridden away from me as I spin like crazy just to keep them in sight. After about 2 or 3 miles I guess, I don't have a computer on my bike, the pavement turns into dirt. Since the race started, I have been passing a few riders here and there but nothing to really brag about. Once the road turns to dirt, we start getting some rolling hills and climbs. On most of these hills and climbs, I start catching and passing some riders that are slowing way down on them. Around this time, I also get into a group of three geared riders who let me draft off of them on some of the flat sections which is a big help. After 2 really big climbs, riders are directed to take a right turn onto the single track that is the Big Brushy portion of the Ouachita Challenge. This road portion took about 45 minutes for me to knock off.
Once into the single track, I get into a group of about 10 riders and seem to be making decent time. They are slowing me up at most of the small climbs and inclines but I do not see much of a reason so take chances to get past the rider in front of me only to have 7 or 8 more directly in front of me still. After probably 5 miles, we come to a down hill section and there is a rider that is down and 3 or 4 that are assisting him. It appears that he wrecked really hard and his right shoulder is slumped awkwardly. One of the assisting riders is on the phone calling for help so our group soilders on. A few miles later, I do a slo-motion endo as I am creeping along slowly and my front tire abruptly stops against a large rock. My hands stop my forward motion and I kinda land sideways on my feet. No harm no foul.
At about the 1.5 hour mark, I start smelling smoke, then see smoke and then fire. I then see Cope, Chaos, Brad and Dana and they are attempting to put out a forest fire that appears to have started right at the trails edge. I yell and scream at them, them at me, and then I continue on. A mile or so later, we get dumped out at the first aid station which I think is about 20 miles or so. I refill one bottle, get some gel put in my flask and take off.
Best I remember, I travel a mile or two on a dirt road and then enter the Blow Out Mountain portion of the ride. This section is probably about 8 or 10 miles and has lots of rock gardens. I am with a group of about 5 riders. Some of the smaller rock gardens we ride thru. Many of the rock gardens with large rocks are to0 sketchy for me to ride, as well as the other's in this group, so we hike thru them. This section is painfully slow and always has been for me on my four previous rides here. I make it through Blowout Mountain and guess I am around mile 32 or so and probably close to the 4 hour mark. A volunteer tells me I have about 10 miles of road until the Womble section of the race.
By now, the temp is probably close to 80 degrees, humid, and a strong southernly wind gusting to around 30 mph which is far from ideal for a long race. I set forth spinning like crazy again since my choice of gearing was not for these road sections. I pass a few geared riders and they seem to have no interest in developing a paceline and working together. After several miles, I see two riders gaining on me. As they catch me, it is a male a female on geared bikes and in Bicycle Plus outfits. They tell me to jump in behind them as they go by, which I was planning on doing anyways. I jump in and automatically gain 3 or 4 mph drafting off of them with the same amount of effort. The male pulls for a mile or so, then the female, and then my turn. I pull for a while and as we go thru Sims, the wind is pretty much head on. I look behind me and I have ridden away from my two companions who are now about 100 yards behind me. I continue pushing a good pace for another mile or so and then back back off a bit.
I have been drinking pretty regularly form the two bottles on my bikes which I had filled with water and Poweraid Endurance mix. I had refilled one at an earlier stop with Heed which was provided by the race. I dislike the taste of heed but oh well. I had also filled a gel flask with some Hammer Gel at the same stop. The flavor was some coffee variety which I really can't stand. Oh well again. I am still behind my self prescribed calorie intake of about 300 calories an hour but I usually always am. I make it to the next aid station which is right around the 40 mile mark. I fill a bottle with water, eat a few pickles, some orange pieces, some banana pieces, grab some cookies and cliff bar pieces.
The volunteers tell me that this is the last full aid station before the finish but there is a water station in about 5 or 6 miles. I believe I get my first check point zip tie at this time from an elderly female volunteer. She does ask me about my bike not having gears and I confirm that it does not. She seems dumbfounded. Right about now, I am feeling pretty dumbfounded as well. The heat is pretty bad. My legs are cooked. I have not cramped yet but have been nursing my legs for about the last hour or so to keep them from cramping.
I now enter the Womble portion of the race. The Womble section is generally considered the crown jewel of this event. It is real flowy, not a lot of climbing and just a real pleasure to ride. Odddly, right off the bat, there is a long incline which I walk most of to keep my legs from cramping. I get passed by a few geared riders that are riding along just a bit faster than I am walking. Once at the top, I get back on my bike and get after the Womble. I catch up with a few riders and we ride most of the trail for the next 4 or 5 miles together. Our group stops for some of the steeper climbs and walk them. I make it to the next dirt road crossing and the volunteer instructs me onto the singletrack across the road. He says I have about 5 miles of singletrack and I will come back to this crossing that he is watching. Then, about 10 miles to the finish which is all road, both dirt and pavement, and mostly all downhill.
As I am talking to the volunteer, I see several riders coming up the steep dirt road climb towards him and wishing I were them. I take off and the next 5 miles or so are pretty uneventful. Nice flowing single track, not a lot of climbing, but some. Not a lot of walking, but some. By now, the temp is probably in the mid 80's, or warmer. After about 3 miles, I come to the second and final check point and receive my last zip tie. The volunteer tells me that I have about 2 miles back to the last crossing and then 10 miles to the finish. I ride about a mile or so of the singletrack and then out onto a dirt road. I then ride for a bit and come to a really steep climb that is probably 1/2 mile long and ends at the last aid/water station. I ride about half of it and then my legs start getting a little twitchy. I get off my bike, to keep my legs from cramping, and push the last bit up to the aid station. I fill both of my bottles with water, dump some water on my head and take off for the finish.
I have about 3 or 4 miles of dirt road that is mostly downhill or flat. I get pasted by several geared riders once again, including a big dude that told me he weighed 285, who I had battled back and forth with for the last several hours. I would pass him on the uphill portions of the single track, and even the uphill portions of the roads. Once things would flatten out, or turn downhill on the roads, he would zoom past me like I was going backwards. This dirt road finally dumps me out onto pavement.
Thankfully, the wind is mainly at my back and helping to push me along. I get passed by about 3 or 4 more geared riders. After about 4 miles of pavement, I am directed back towards the Oden School where the finish is. This year, the race promoters put the finish line at the top of a grass hill that I believed they are calling vomit hill. No way am I going to get off of my bike and walk this hill to the finish. I make the 100 yard climb without any problems and cross the finish line in 7 hours and 16 minutes and about 60 miles.
The heat was a big factor today and for sure the hottest endurance race I have done to date. My fitness level was about what I expected. I have only been doing aerobic rides since last August except for two 1.5 hour XC races back in September and October which had me redlined for the entire efforts. I have a really good base but not much top end fitness currently.
All in all, I was very pleased. I was not injured. Did not have any mechanicals. And, enjoyed some of the best singletrack in the southern hemisphere.
Steven
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Leadville 2010. Maybe the third time could be the charm.
Hey folks.
Back in February of this year, I was fortunate, or unfortunate, to get my third straight entry into the Leadville 100 Mile Mountain Bike Race slated for August 14, 2010, which I had applied for in January. The race starts in the old mining town of Leadville, Colorado, which sits at 10, 200 feet in elevation. The race goes out about 50 miles up to the closed Columbine Mine at 12,600 feet and then back on the same basic route to Leadville. There is a 13 hour time limit to finish the race and if you finish under 12 hours, you get a big gawdy belt buckle. The ride has about 12,000 of feet of climbing between 9,200 feet and 12,600 feet and ends up being about 103 miles. 10,000 plus people apply for the 1,500 spots, via some sort of un-published lottery process that nobody can explain. Several thousand spectators line different sections of the course, the start, Powerline, Pipeline, Twin Lakes and the finish line. They cheer, heckle (mainly on the lung burning climbs), scream, yell and cowbell as riders go by.
As most know, I am no racer. I ride because it clears my mind and I prefer to ride alone. I show up to a couple endurance rides a year and usually finish, way back, and that is usually the extent of my glory. In 2008, I missed a turn at Leadville and ended up with 68 miles at the 60 mile check point. I was about 10 minutes late at the 8 hour cutoff. End of ride. Last year, I got to the 74 mile check point 3 minutes past the 9 hour cutoff. End of ride.
This year, I racked up about 3,000 miles or so, mainly on my road bike, before the race. My weight this attempt, was about 170, or a little less, which is about 10 pounds lighter than two years ago and about 5 pounds lighter than last year.
In the middle of July, I went up to Leadville, by myself, for 5 days of riding. The trip was more of a vacation for me than a "training" trip. I did ride most of the course and racked up about 22 hours, 240 miles and 20k plus feet of climbing on my mountain bike. I met and rode with some good people on a ride that leaves the bike shop in Leadville at 9:00 am most mornings. I even lead a couple of the rides for some first time race attempters that wanted to see the course.
After my last two attempts, I decided to go with about 250 liquid calories a hour in the form of PowerBar Endurance powder for this try. The two previous years, I learned that I do not do well with any type of solid foods or gels when I am working really hard, at altitude and on the bike for extended hours. My Camelbak, which I dislike along with any other hydration pack, and two bottles will give me enough calories for about 5 hours before I have to refill/refuel.
My mom and I go up a few days before the race and stay in Salida, Colorado, which is about 60 miles south of Leadville. Salida is a neat town. She has went up with me on all three of my attempts at this.
Come race day, I arrive at the start line in Leadville about 5:45 am, 45 minutes before the start, and place my bike in the staging area, which is already packed with bikes, minus most of the riders. The race starts right in the middle of downtown Leadville. One of the main intersections in town is blocked to car traffic and riders line up from this point. Riders are suppose to stage according to their guesstimated finishing times. The top 100 finishers from last year's race, and celeb entrants, have a reserved area at the front. I usually stage in the 11-12 hour finishing grid. Many of the riders over estimate their abilities by several hours or more, including me, I guess.
I go back to my car, which is parked several blocks away, to get out of the 36 degree temp. After about 30 minutes, I head back to the start line and now find it jammed pack with several hundred more bikes and most of their riders.
At 6:30 am, the shotgun blast goes off and the race starts. I am about 600 feet from the starting line and it takes about 2 minutes before I am able to start moving. A police escort leads the pack of riders out of town. The first 3.5 miles are on a paved two lane road, down hill and times are precarious with up to 6 or 7 bikes across. This down hill is welcomed now but creates quiet the problem in about 100 miles. The escort keeps the pace at a slow 25 mph or so, which is almost doable without pedaling. We then go over a railroad crossing, the escort stops blocking the pavement and directs the riders to make a right turn on a dirt road. I am told the race is full on at the front now.
My pace is pretty much dictated by the mass of riders in front of me.I have about 3 miles on this dirt road before I reach the first deal breaker of the ride. It is the climb up St. Kevins which is a little over a mile long and averages over 8 percent with an almost 20 percent spike right in the middle. Even before we start the climb, I am passing riders that are already blowing up. 5 or 6 miles in, many are already the pedaling dead. I think to myself that most of these folks have no chance of finishing or even making the first 4 hour cutoff at 40 miles. For some reason, I can kinda sense these things now.
As I start the climb, the sound of many bikes can be heard down shifting in unison to get into their climbing gears. A lot of riders are stopping at the start of the climb, which is really tame for Leadville standards. These riders are drinking, eating, peeing and wasting precious minutes. I am in my my middle chain ring and probably my easiest gear in the rear. After about 5 minutes, the steepness comes. I drop down into my granny climbing gear and get going, trying to keep my heart rate in check and watch out for wayward riders. Many folks are now walking. The dirt road is rutted, washed out and really only has one good line going up. Riders are about 3 across and pretty much take up the width of the road. After about 10 minutes or so at about 4 to 5 mph, the course takes a hard left. The next 4 miles or so has some good climbing along with a few fast down hills.
At about the 11 mile mark, the course dumps us out onto a paved road. The next 3 miles are down hill and the decent is fast. By now, riders are spread out and you can go like speed racer if you choose. I get up to about 40 mph and let it rip for the entire descent. The temp is still in the mid 30's and my hands are ice cold, just like last year, except they are dry. This road takes us around Turquoise Lake.
Once at the bottom of the decent, a 2 mile paved ascent is in order. The climb is not too terribly steep, probably a grade of 4 or 5 percent.After about 2 miles of climbing, the course takes a right turn onto a groomed dirt road. This portion is about 3 miles at a gentle grade of 2 to 4 percent, and up of course. We then make a hard left and the course becomes very rocky and rutted for the next 3 miles or so. The grade is probably about 4 percent, and up. As I pedal on, I notice that I am about to lose my bike computer due to a broken zip tie. I am now heating up, bad, even thou the temp is probably still in the low 40's. The skies are void of any clouds, which also is opposite of last year. I decide to stop and re-zip my computer and shed my light weight jacket. I get going again after a minute or so and make the summit of this climb which tops out around 11,200 feet or so.
Now, comes the almost 4 mile descent of Powerline, which is so named because the riders take the dirt road/path that is beneath high voltage power lines. The decent averages over 8 percent with the bottom section topping out at whopping 25 percent. Powerline loses about 1600 feet of elevation from top to bottom. Powerline is the most washed, rutted and wreck prone section of the whole Leadville course and has 3 false peaks as you go down. Back in July, I descended this section in about 15 minutes, or less. I enter feeling good with a few riders directly in front and behind me. When the time presents itself, I pass slower riders that I come up on. I then come up on a wreck in a gnarly section and many other riders, and course marshalls, are feverishly working on the rider. I pass slowly, say a piece for him and continue on. A few minutes later, I pass a couple of 4 wheelers/gators screaming up towards the downed rider. I later learned that the rider suffered traumatic head injuries and that he needed rescue breathing/cpr, that was given to him by the stopped riders. Lucky for him, 3 of the riders that stopped were doctors. He was helicoptered to Denver from the course and the early word is that he will live.
I leave Powerline behind and now have about 4 miles of relatively easy paved and dirt roads to the first check point at 26 miles. I jump into a few pace lines and we pump out some good speed on mostly flat roads. I roll thru the first check point/aid station at Pipeline at 9:10 am, which is only 8 minutes faster than last year. To say the least, I am a bit concerned about my time.
The next check point/aid station, and first cut-off time is at Twin Lakes which is 14 miles away, and has to be had by 10:30 am or game over. Last year, I rolled thru Twin Lakes at 10:25 am. I really start pushing the pedals now. The first 11 miles are on a dirt road, a little pavement and then some gravel roads. There are some moderate climbs, descents and the only single track on the whole course, 2 miles, which were designed by Dave Wiens 2 years ago due to erosion on the course. I then have about a 2 mile decent on pavement to Twin Lakes and then the check point about a mile later. I make it to Twin Lakes and go thru the crew area, which is always a blast. On both sides of this gravel road that parallels the lake, crews are lined up waiting for their riders, probably 2 to 4 thousand strong. They are yelling, screaming, cow belling, World Cup horning, and flat out partying.
Last year, Sir Lance and I passed going in opposite directions here. He was at mile 60 heading back and I was at mile 40, not heading back. I pedal on towards the hell than I know is coming and make it thru the check at about 10:08 am. Last year, this 14 mile stretch took me 1:07 to do. This year, I was about 10 minutes faster at 58 minutes. In 2009, I made it thru Twin Lakes at 10:25:44 am. After 40 miles, I am only 18 minutes faster than last year's time. Remember, every minute counts in this thing.
By now, I have emptied my Camelbak but still have two full bottles on my bike. I decided way back that I wasn't not going to lug a full Camelbak the next 10 miles to Columbine Mine, which graciously gives riders 3,400 feet of climbing up to 12,600 feet in 10 miles. In all my haste, I pedaled thru the aid station and did not want to turn around and back track. I stop next to some folks crewing and ask if they have any water to spare. They give me two bottles of water. I thank them. I chug one, store the other in my jersey and take off.
The next 1.5 miles are not too tough. A couple of short steep climbs and some dirt road. During this section, I see a couple of riders heading towards me and realize they are the race leaders. JHK, with Levi Leipheimer two feet off of his rear wheel, come screaming past me heading back towards Twin Lakes. I am at about mile 41 and they at 59. A few minutes later, several other race contenders, including 6 time winner Dave Wiens, come screaming past me, each spaced apart by a few minutes or so. Levi ends up winning in 6 hours and 16 minutes, breaking Armstrong's record from last year by about 10 minutes. JHK comes in second at about 6:25. Wiens came in fourth at 6:33.
At about 42 miles, the game changer starts. For the next 8.5 miles, the ascent will average about 8 percent and spikes at around 23 percent at the top. The road is dirt and gravel and graded really well, for the most part. I decided that, unlike last year, I would stay in my middle chain ring until my legs started giving way and then I would go to the small chain ring. Last year, I rode most all of this climb in the small chain ring hoping to save my legs, lungs, heart, brain, eyes, toes, hands, etc.
I start grinding away, hoping that I have less than 2 hours and 30 minutes of my front wheel pointing towards the sky. Last year it took me 2:46 to knock this beast off. The top guys usually do this climb in less than 70 minutes.
Early on, the outside of my left knee, which was aching miles back, really starts throbbing. My right hip is irritating me for some reason. My saddle body connection, thou not real bad, is less than perfect. My customary headache, which in years past usually comes on around now, shows up as scheduled. My stomach, which had felt weird for the last hour or so, now had me knowing I was going to throw-up any minute. I even tried to force myself to yak several times while pedaling, without luck. The temp is probably about 60, which feels much warmer than it sounds, and still not a cloud in the perfectly blue sky.
About mile 44, a cramp starts trying to visit my left thigh. Every pedal stroke, I can feel the cramp coming on. I am still in my middle chain ring, trying to keep my pace at a respectable 4 to 6 mph. I finally relent, at an attempt to keep the cramp(s) at bay, and drop down into my granny chain ring. I revisit the middle chain ring when the grade becomes less steep, but this is only for short periods.
By now, a steady flow of riders are screaming down hill back towards Twin Lakes as I grind up-wards with well over a hour before I will make the turn around. I am passing more riders going up than are passing me. The riders going up are really spread out at this point. Mostly single file and, at times, hundreds of yards separate us. Some are walking, some are stopped, many appear to contemplating their sanity. I chat up most that I pass or that pass me.The next 4 miles or so, are more of the same. Just grinding away, eventually past tree line, which happens around mile 48'ish or so.
There was at least one funny thing above tree line other than me. On the side of the road, there were a couple of dudes serving up mini hot dog bites on a tray and ice cold beer, PBR, to any rider who wanted. The server was wearing a waiter styled outfit and the cook was dressed like a cook. They must of camped out overnight or drove up many hours earlier because vehicle traffic is prohibited on this climb during the race. I would of liked to oblige them on the dog but, like I mentioned earlier, eating doesn't bode well for me during these times and I don't do beer. I did fist bump the server as I rode by.
Around mile 49 or so, the steepness comes at a cost of 600 feet of gain per mile. This will be the case for the next 2 miles. As far as I can see up, riders are pushing their bikes and I join the congo line. The dirt road now becomes very rocky and rutted. Walking is not very easy due to the rocks, ruts and altitude. I don't know exactly, but I guess for close to the next hour, myself, along with riders in front and back of me just put one foot in front of the other continuing towards the check point. A steady stream of riders are heading down the ragged jeep road as we push up the far right side of it. There are many false summits on this journey. As you crest each one, all one can see is a long line of bike pushers slowly marching towards the next summit. Finally, after one really steep section, most riders are able to remount their bikes and head for the check point/aid station which is about a 1/4 mile away and visible. We go down a slight decent, up just a few hundred yards and then zip down to it.
I roll thru the check point at 12:40 pm which is 6 hours and 10 minutes after the start. It took me 2 hours 32 minutes to knock this off which is a mere 14 minutes faster than last year. My head is really killing me now and I have drank very little on the way up which means no calories and probably big time dehydration. The volunteers at the top, which are numerous and a god send, hold my bike. They help me dump my PowerBar powder into my empty Camelbak and one empty bottle and we fill them with water. Also refill my half empty second bottle with water. I grab a piece of banana, some mm's and some Frito's and attempt to eat. I start eating the banana and it does not want to go down. I gnaw on it like someone without teeth and I finally get it down. I munch the handful of Frito's, um salt, in the same manner.I then take off and throw the small handful of mm's in my mouth and they exit about 3 seconds later in a big glob. Gross I know.
All in all , I was stopped less than 3 or 4 minutes and now I got almost 10 miles of nothing but down hill. I make it about 100 yards, attempt to take a drink from Camelbak and nothing. I figure the hose got kinked when we refilled the bladder so I stop, take the Camelbak off, inspect the hose and it is fine. I pull the bladder out and where the hose is coming out is clogged with all the powder. I shake the bladder, suck the hose, blow the hose for what seemed like a minute or so. Finally, I get it unclogged, strap it back on and hit the pedals in the direction I just spent 2.5 hours grinding up.
After about 1.5 miles, which is the rough stuff I pushed up, the road smooths out and then it is let it rip time. I probably passed 100 or 200 riders still heading up as I am heading down, and then nothing. No riders are allowed to ride past the Twin Lakes check point after the 4 hour/10:30 am time limit. It is now kinda weird riding by yourself after being surrounded by folks for the last 6 plus hours. Occasionally, a lone rider will come flying past me or I will pass one heading down the route which consists of 8 or 9 switch backs. This is the case all the way to the Twin Lakes check point at mile 60'ish.
I roll into the check point right at 1:30 pm which is roughly 41 minutes ahead of last year. 7 hours has elapsed since the race started. I stop at the check point and ask a volunteer if they have any Tylenol for my aching head. He goes over to the tent, a medical guy comes over, asks me a few questions, hands me a 1000 mg's and I am off with a vengeance.
I have 2 hours, 3:30 pm, to make the 14 miles back to the Pipeline check point. Last year, it took me 1 hour and 20 minutes to cover this distance and I arrived at the check point at 9 hours and 3 minutes, game was over. I roll back across the dam, back thru the now less frenzied crew area. Many of the crews have now beat feeted it back to either Pipeline or Leadville to see their rider's come thru, and then finish.
I have a 2 mile paved climb that hurts pretty good and then back onto 4 or 5 miles of slightly down hill and flat gravel road. Then, onto some pavement for about a mile and then back up Dave Wiens' two miles of single track. I pass quiet a few riders. Now, I only have a about 6 miles to the Pipeline check point and most of this section is not hard at all, except for the fact I have about 70 miles in my legs. Any of the climbs at this point require me to gear way down to avoid cramps and because I cannot push any big gears going up hill because I can't.
I roll into and thru the Powerline check point at 2:51 pm which is 8 hours and 21 minutes since the shotgun went off. It took me 1 hour and 21 minutes to roll this section which was 1 minute slower than last year.
I now have about 3 hours and 39 minutes to cover a mere 26 miles or so to the finish. I covered this distance heading in the opposite direction this morning in about 2 hours and 40 minutes. The problem is the daunting 4 mile Powerline climb, which gains 1600 feet and the last 3 mile grind up hill into Leadville. I start crunching miles, time and mph in my head and believe I am going to be very close to the 12 hour cut-off for the buckle. I am fairly confident I can come in under the 13 hour finishing time.
I roll onto the pavement and have about 4 miles to the bottom of Powerline. The wind is now blowing right into my face at about 15 to 20 mph, which is just plain insulting at this point.
I roll up to the bottom of Powerline and ride right up to the point where it gets really steep. Remember the almost 25 percent decent earlier. Now it is 25 percent in the other direction. I start pushing my sled again, like everyone except the top few riders.
As I pushed on, a spectator tells me "don't feel bad, Dave Wiens pushed his bike up earlier too." Remember from earlier, Powerline has 3 distinct summits. I push all of this one. I then get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill, and then start pushing towards the second summit. Once at the top of the second, I again get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill. And then, yep you guessed it, some more pushing up to the third and final summit on Powerline.
In July, after about only 25 miles of riding, I pushed the first section of Powerline and then rode the rest of it. Total time was about 57 minutes. Today, the total time was about 80 minutes. What a difference that extra 55 miles and extra 8 hours in the saddle makes on your time.
I then have about 3 miles of either flat or mostly down hill rugged jeep road. I am hauling some butt on the down hills letting it hang in the wind. I make it down the jeep road, hang a right and now about 2 miles down a well groomed dirt road, which has a downward grade of 2 to 4 percent.
I had caught 3 or 4 riders at the last right turn and now myself, and a dude wearing a "Brooklyn" jersey let it rip. I am going around 25 to 30 mph and getting closer to my goal, the end.
After the 2 miles, myself and "Brooklyn" make a left turn onto the Turqoise Lake paved road to a bit of fan fare. Probably 20 to 30 spectators are yelling and encouraging us on. I think they are really there to see some fools suffering bad. We now have another 2 miles of down hill. Myself and "Brooklyn" get up to about 35 mph. In no time flat, we are at the bottom and the pavement starts pointing up, again.
This 3 mile section that gave me a little over 40 mph about 10.5 hours ago, would not see anything close to that going up. For most of this climb, I am flying at around 5 to 7 mph. I finally reach the summit, make a hard left onto the dirt/jeep road. Spectators and volunteers yell that I have about 11 miles and 55 minutes to make the 12 hour buckle time.
Most of the next 4 miles or so are down hill, except for 3 or 4 sections that are really steep, but not terribly long. This is St. Kevins in reverse. I bomb the down hills and have to dismount and push the steeps.
At the bottom of St. Kevins, I have about 3 miles of dirt road that is mainly flat or point very slightly downward. I then roll onto some pavement for about another mile and then back onto some dirt road for another mile or so.
I then take a hard left turn onto a nasty section of dirt road. Remember the 3'ish mile decent on the paved road out of town this morning, this dirt road is the evil twin sister going up. For about the first mile, the entire road is covered from side to side with golf ball sized, tennis ball sized, baseball sized, softball sized rocks. Being up hill and bumpy enough to jar one's liver out, I again resort to pushing my bike because riding it for me is impossible at this point, which is around 100 miles into the game.
After I get out of boulder blvd, I remount my steed and get after the final 2 miles or so, which are still up hill. I jump on the pedals hard and even make it into the big chainring at times, until I blow up, which does not take much. I down shift a few gears, recover a bit, and then big ring it out until I blow up again.
I make it to the pavement and have about a mile to go. I hang a left, go several hundred yards and then make a right. Now, I have about 3/4 mile to the finish line. And, I will let you guess. Okay, the first 1/4 mile or so is up hill. I drop down into my easist gear and start spinning, which is not moving me forward much at this point. Spectators are still every where, yelling, encouraging and several come out and run beside/behind me. It is like Tour de France stuff. One guy that runs beside me says something and I ask if I missed 12 hours. He tells me I did by about 5 minutes.
A police officer in a squad car pulls up beside me, turns his lights on and is talking to me thru his downed passenger window as I am still pedaling away. I must of looked really bad, really bad. I could hear him talking but my ears were not taking in what he was saying. I keep spinning for the next couple minutes, with him beside me and still talking and I am just nodding my head at him. I crest the hill and now I can see the finish line about 1/2 mile away, which the first half is down hill.
I shift up into some big gears and hammer away, at least tried too. I leave the cop behind and approach a stop sign, which we ran thru with an escort this morning. For some reason, I slow for it. He says something over his PA. I guess he told me to run thru it so I hammer on.
As I blow the stop sign, the road points up, again. Lots of folks are still on both sides of the road yelling and screaming. I pedal with all the fury I have and roll across the finish line as the announcer calls out my name, home city I think, something about a medal and a beer.
As I coast to a stop, someone placed a finishing medal around my neck. Volunteer's offer me water which I drink several glasses of. Then, I just sit, slumped over my bike as exhausted and spent as I have ever been.
The finishing clock displayed 12:07:04.4.
Back in February of this year, I was fortunate, or unfortunate, to get my third straight entry into the Leadville 100 Mile Mountain Bike Race slated for August 14, 2010, which I had applied for in January. The race starts in the old mining town of Leadville, Colorado, which sits at 10, 200 feet in elevation. The race goes out about 50 miles up to the closed Columbine Mine at 12,600 feet and then back on the same basic route to Leadville. There is a 13 hour time limit to finish the race and if you finish under 12 hours, you get a big gawdy belt buckle. The ride has about 12,000 of feet of climbing between 9,200 feet and 12,600 feet and ends up being about 103 miles. 10,000 plus people apply for the 1,500 spots, via some sort of un-published lottery process that nobody can explain. Several thousand spectators line different sections of the course, the start, Powerline, Pipeline, Twin Lakes and the finish line. They cheer, heckle (mainly on the lung burning climbs), scream, yell and cowbell as riders go by.
As most know, I am no racer. I ride because it clears my mind and I prefer to ride alone. I show up to a couple endurance rides a year and usually finish, way back, and that is usually the extent of my glory. In 2008, I missed a turn at Leadville and ended up with 68 miles at the 60 mile check point. I was about 10 minutes late at the 8 hour cutoff. End of ride. Last year, I got to the 74 mile check point 3 minutes past the 9 hour cutoff. End of ride.
This year, I racked up about 3,000 miles or so, mainly on my road bike, before the race. My weight this attempt, was about 170, or a little less, which is about 10 pounds lighter than two years ago and about 5 pounds lighter than last year.
In the middle of July, I went up to Leadville, by myself, for 5 days of riding. The trip was more of a vacation for me than a "training" trip. I did ride most of the course and racked up about 22 hours, 240 miles and 20k plus feet of climbing on my mountain bike. I met and rode with some good people on a ride that leaves the bike shop in Leadville at 9:00 am most mornings. I even lead a couple of the rides for some first time race attempters that wanted to see the course.
After my last two attempts, I decided to go with about 250 liquid calories a hour in the form of PowerBar Endurance powder for this try. The two previous years, I learned that I do not do well with any type of solid foods or gels when I am working really hard, at altitude and on the bike for extended hours. My Camelbak, which I dislike along with any other hydration pack, and two bottles will give me enough calories for about 5 hours before I have to refill/refuel.
My mom and I go up a few days before the race and stay in Salida, Colorado, which is about 60 miles south of Leadville. Salida is a neat town. She has went up with me on all three of my attempts at this.
Come race day, I arrive at the start line in Leadville about 5:45 am, 45 minutes before the start, and place my bike in the staging area, which is already packed with bikes, minus most of the riders. The race starts right in the middle of downtown Leadville. One of the main intersections in town is blocked to car traffic and riders line up from this point. Riders are suppose to stage according to their guesstimated finishing times. The top 100 finishers from last year's race, and celeb entrants, have a reserved area at the front. I usually stage in the 11-12 hour finishing grid. Many of the riders over estimate their abilities by several hours or more, including me, I guess.
I go back to my car, which is parked several blocks away, to get out of the 36 degree temp. After about 30 minutes, I head back to the start line and now find it jammed pack with several hundred more bikes and most of their riders.
At 6:30 am, the shotgun blast goes off and the race starts. I am about 600 feet from the starting line and it takes about 2 minutes before I am able to start moving. A police escort leads the pack of riders out of town. The first 3.5 miles are on a paved two lane road, down hill and times are precarious with up to 6 or 7 bikes across. This down hill is welcomed now but creates quiet the problem in about 100 miles. The escort keeps the pace at a slow 25 mph or so, which is almost doable without pedaling. We then go over a railroad crossing, the escort stops blocking the pavement and directs the riders to make a right turn on a dirt road. I am told the race is full on at the front now.
My pace is pretty much dictated by the mass of riders in front of me.I have about 3 miles on this dirt road before I reach the first deal breaker of the ride. It is the climb up St. Kevins which is a little over a mile long and averages over 8 percent with an almost 20 percent spike right in the middle. Even before we start the climb, I am passing riders that are already blowing up. 5 or 6 miles in, many are already the pedaling dead. I think to myself that most of these folks have no chance of finishing or even making the first 4 hour cutoff at 40 miles. For some reason, I can kinda sense these things now.
As I start the climb, the sound of many bikes can be heard down shifting in unison to get into their climbing gears. A lot of riders are stopping at the start of the climb, which is really tame for Leadville standards. These riders are drinking, eating, peeing and wasting precious minutes. I am in my my middle chain ring and probably my easiest gear in the rear. After about 5 minutes, the steepness comes. I drop down into my granny climbing gear and get going, trying to keep my heart rate in check and watch out for wayward riders. Many folks are now walking. The dirt road is rutted, washed out and really only has one good line going up. Riders are about 3 across and pretty much take up the width of the road. After about 10 minutes or so at about 4 to 5 mph, the course takes a hard left. The next 4 miles or so has some good climbing along with a few fast down hills.
At about the 11 mile mark, the course dumps us out onto a paved road. The next 3 miles are down hill and the decent is fast. By now, riders are spread out and you can go like speed racer if you choose. I get up to about 40 mph and let it rip for the entire descent. The temp is still in the mid 30's and my hands are ice cold, just like last year, except they are dry. This road takes us around Turquoise Lake.
Once at the bottom of the decent, a 2 mile paved ascent is in order. The climb is not too terribly steep, probably a grade of 4 or 5 percent.After about 2 miles of climbing, the course takes a right turn onto a groomed dirt road. This portion is about 3 miles at a gentle grade of 2 to 4 percent, and up of course. We then make a hard left and the course becomes very rocky and rutted for the next 3 miles or so. The grade is probably about 4 percent, and up. As I pedal on, I notice that I am about to lose my bike computer due to a broken zip tie. I am now heating up, bad, even thou the temp is probably still in the low 40's. The skies are void of any clouds, which also is opposite of last year. I decide to stop and re-zip my computer and shed my light weight jacket. I get going again after a minute or so and make the summit of this climb which tops out around 11,200 feet or so.
Now, comes the almost 4 mile descent of Powerline, which is so named because the riders take the dirt road/path that is beneath high voltage power lines. The decent averages over 8 percent with the bottom section topping out at whopping 25 percent. Powerline loses about 1600 feet of elevation from top to bottom. Powerline is the most washed, rutted and wreck prone section of the whole Leadville course and has 3 false peaks as you go down. Back in July, I descended this section in about 15 minutes, or less. I enter feeling good with a few riders directly in front and behind me. When the time presents itself, I pass slower riders that I come up on. I then come up on a wreck in a gnarly section and many other riders, and course marshalls, are feverishly working on the rider. I pass slowly, say a piece for him and continue on. A few minutes later, I pass a couple of 4 wheelers/gators screaming up towards the downed rider. I later learned that the rider suffered traumatic head injuries and that he needed rescue breathing/cpr, that was given to him by the stopped riders. Lucky for him, 3 of the riders that stopped were doctors. He was helicoptered to Denver from the course and the early word is that he will live.
I leave Powerline behind and now have about 4 miles of relatively easy paved and dirt roads to the first check point at 26 miles. I jump into a few pace lines and we pump out some good speed on mostly flat roads. I roll thru the first check point/aid station at Pipeline at 9:10 am, which is only 8 minutes faster than last year. To say the least, I am a bit concerned about my time.
The next check point/aid station, and first cut-off time is at Twin Lakes which is 14 miles away, and has to be had by 10:30 am or game over. Last year, I rolled thru Twin Lakes at 10:25 am. I really start pushing the pedals now. The first 11 miles are on a dirt road, a little pavement and then some gravel roads. There are some moderate climbs, descents and the only single track on the whole course, 2 miles, which were designed by Dave Wiens 2 years ago due to erosion on the course. I then have about a 2 mile decent on pavement to Twin Lakes and then the check point about a mile later. I make it to Twin Lakes and go thru the crew area, which is always a blast. On both sides of this gravel road that parallels the lake, crews are lined up waiting for their riders, probably 2 to 4 thousand strong. They are yelling, screaming, cow belling, World Cup horning, and flat out partying.
Last year, Sir Lance and I passed going in opposite directions here. He was at mile 60 heading back and I was at mile 40, not heading back. I pedal on towards the hell than I know is coming and make it thru the check at about 10:08 am. Last year, this 14 mile stretch took me 1:07 to do. This year, I was about 10 minutes faster at 58 minutes. In 2009, I made it thru Twin Lakes at 10:25:44 am. After 40 miles, I am only 18 minutes faster than last year's time. Remember, every minute counts in this thing.
By now, I have emptied my Camelbak but still have two full bottles on my bike. I decided way back that I wasn't not going to lug a full Camelbak the next 10 miles to Columbine Mine, which graciously gives riders 3,400 feet of climbing up to 12,600 feet in 10 miles. In all my haste, I pedaled thru the aid station and did not want to turn around and back track. I stop next to some folks crewing and ask if they have any water to spare. They give me two bottles of water. I thank them. I chug one, store the other in my jersey and take off.
The next 1.5 miles are not too tough. A couple of short steep climbs and some dirt road. During this section, I see a couple of riders heading towards me and realize they are the race leaders. JHK, with Levi Leipheimer two feet off of his rear wheel, come screaming past me heading back towards Twin Lakes. I am at about mile 41 and they at 59. A few minutes later, several other race contenders, including 6 time winner Dave Wiens, come screaming past me, each spaced apart by a few minutes or so. Levi ends up winning in 6 hours and 16 minutes, breaking Armstrong's record from last year by about 10 minutes. JHK comes in second at about 6:25. Wiens came in fourth at 6:33.
At about 42 miles, the game changer starts. For the next 8.5 miles, the ascent will average about 8 percent and spikes at around 23 percent at the top. The road is dirt and gravel and graded really well, for the most part. I decided that, unlike last year, I would stay in my middle chain ring until my legs started giving way and then I would go to the small chain ring. Last year, I rode most all of this climb in the small chain ring hoping to save my legs, lungs, heart, brain, eyes, toes, hands, etc.
I start grinding away, hoping that I have less than 2 hours and 30 minutes of my front wheel pointing towards the sky. Last year it took me 2:46 to knock this beast off. The top guys usually do this climb in less than 70 minutes.
Early on, the outside of my left knee, which was aching miles back, really starts throbbing. My right hip is irritating me for some reason. My saddle body connection, thou not real bad, is less than perfect. My customary headache, which in years past usually comes on around now, shows up as scheduled. My stomach, which had felt weird for the last hour or so, now had me knowing I was going to throw-up any minute. I even tried to force myself to yak several times while pedaling, without luck. The temp is probably about 60, which feels much warmer than it sounds, and still not a cloud in the perfectly blue sky.
About mile 44, a cramp starts trying to visit my left thigh. Every pedal stroke, I can feel the cramp coming on. I am still in my middle chain ring, trying to keep my pace at a respectable 4 to 6 mph. I finally relent, at an attempt to keep the cramp(s) at bay, and drop down into my granny chain ring. I revisit the middle chain ring when the grade becomes less steep, but this is only for short periods.
By now, a steady flow of riders are screaming down hill back towards Twin Lakes as I grind up-wards with well over a hour before I will make the turn around. I am passing more riders going up than are passing me. The riders going up are really spread out at this point. Mostly single file and, at times, hundreds of yards separate us. Some are walking, some are stopped, many appear to contemplating their sanity. I chat up most that I pass or that pass me.The next 4 miles or so, are more of the same. Just grinding away, eventually past tree line, which happens around mile 48'ish or so.
There was at least one funny thing above tree line other than me. On the side of the road, there were a couple of dudes serving up mini hot dog bites on a tray and ice cold beer, PBR, to any rider who wanted. The server was wearing a waiter styled outfit and the cook was dressed like a cook. They must of camped out overnight or drove up many hours earlier because vehicle traffic is prohibited on this climb during the race. I would of liked to oblige them on the dog but, like I mentioned earlier, eating doesn't bode well for me during these times and I don't do beer. I did fist bump the server as I rode by.
Around mile 49 or so, the steepness comes at a cost of 600 feet of gain per mile. This will be the case for the next 2 miles. As far as I can see up, riders are pushing their bikes and I join the congo line. The dirt road now becomes very rocky and rutted. Walking is not very easy due to the rocks, ruts and altitude. I don't know exactly, but I guess for close to the next hour, myself, along with riders in front and back of me just put one foot in front of the other continuing towards the check point. A steady stream of riders are heading down the ragged jeep road as we push up the far right side of it. There are many false summits on this journey. As you crest each one, all one can see is a long line of bike pushers slowly marching towards the next summit. Finally, after one really steep section, most riders are able to remount their bikes and head for the check point/aid station which is about a 1/4 mile away and visible. We go down a slight decent, up just a few hundred yards and then zip down to it.
I roll thru the check point at 12:40 pm which is 6 hours and 10 minutes after the start. It took me 2 hours 32 minutes to knock this off which is a mere 14 minutes faster than last year. My head is really killing me now and I have drank very little on the way up which means no calories and probably big time dehydration. The volunteers at the top, which are numerous and a god send, hold my bike. They help me dump my PowerBar powder into my empty Camelbak and one empty bottle and we fill them with water. Also refill my half empty second bottle with water. I grab a piece of banana, some mm's and some Frito's and attempt to eat. I start eating the banana and it does not want to go down. I gnaw on it like someone without teeth and I finally get it down. I munch the handful of Frito's, um salt, in the same manner.I then take off and throw the small handful of mm's in my mouth and they exit about 3 seconds later in a big glob. Gross I know.
All in all , I was stopped less than 3 or 4 minutes and now I got almost 10 miles of nothing but down hill. I make it about 100 yards, attempt to take a drink from Camelbak and nothing. I figure the hose got kinked when we refilled the bladder so I stop, take the Camelbak off, inspect the hose and it is fine. I pull the bladder out and where the hose is coming out is clogged with all the powder. I shake the bladder, suck the hose, blow the hose for what seemed like a minute or so. Finally, I get it unclogged, strap it back on and hit the pedals in the direction I just spent 2.5 hours grinding up.
After about 1.5 miles, which is the rough stuff I pushed up, the road smooths out and then it is let it rip time. I probably passed 100 or 200 riders still heading up as I am heading down, and then nothing. No riders are allowed to ride past the Twin Lakes check point after the 4 hour/10:30 am time limit. It is now kinda weird riding by yourself after being surrounded by folks for the last 6 plus hours. Occasionally, a lone rider will come flying past me or I will pass one heading down the route which consists of 8 or 9 switch backs. This is the case all the way to the Twin Lakes check point at mile 60'ish.
I roll into the check point right at 1:30 pm which is roughly 41 minutes ahead of last year. 7 hours has elapsed since the race started. I stop at the check point and ask a volunteer if they have any Tylenol for my aching head. He goes over to the tent, a medical guy comes over, asks me a few questions, hands me a 1000 mg's and I am off with a vengeance.
I have 2 hours, 3:30 pm, to make the 14 miles back to the Pipeline check point. Last year, it took me 1 hour and 20 minutes to cover this distance and I arrived at the check point at 9 hours and 3 minutes, game was over. I roll back across the dam, back thru the now less frenzied crew area. Many of the crews have now beat feeted it back to either Pipeline or Leadville to see their rider's come thru, and then finish.
I have a 2 mile paved climb that hurts pretty good and then back onto 4 or 5 miles of slightly down hill and flat gravel road. Then, onto some pavement for about a mile and then back up Dave Wiens' two miles of single track. I pass quiet a few riders. Now, I only have a about 6 miles to the Pipeline check point and most of this section is not hard at all, except for the fact I have about 70 miles in my legs. Any of the climbs at this point require me to gear way down to avoid cramps and because I cannot push any big gears going up hill because I can't.
I roll into and thru the Powerline check point at 2:51 pm which is 8 hours and 21 minutes since the shotgun went off. It took me 1 hour and 21 minutes to roll this section which was 1 minute slower than last year.
I now have about 3 hours and 39 minutes to cover a mere 26 miles or so to the finish. I covered this distance heading in the opposite direction this morning in about 2 hours and 40 minutes. The problem is the daunting 4 mile Powerline climb, which gains 1600 feet and the last 3 mile grind up hill into Leadville. I start crunching miles, time and mph in my head and believe I am going to be very close to the 12 hour cut-off for the buckle. I am fairly confident I can come in under the 13 hour finishing time.
I roll onto the pavement and have about 4 miles to the bottom of Powerline. The wind is now blowing right into my face at about 15 to 20 mph, which is just plain insulting at this point.
I roll up to the bottom of Powerline and ride right up to the point where it gets really steep. Remember the almost 25 percent decent earlier. Now it is 25 percent in the other direction. I start pushing my sled again, like everyone except the top few riders.
As I pushed on, a spectator tells me "don't feel bad, Dave Wiens pushed his bike up earlier too." Remember from earlier, Powerline has 3 distinct summits. I push all of this one. I then get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill, and then start pushing towards the second summit. Once at the top of the second, I again get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill. And then, yep you guessed it, some more pushing up to the third and final summit on Powerline.
In July, after about only 25 miles of riding, I pushed the first section of Powerline and then rode the rest of it. Total time was about 57 minutes. Today, the total time was about 80 minutes. What a difference that extra 55 miles and extra 8 hours in the saddle makes on your time.
I then have about 3 miles of either flat or mostly down hill rugged jeep road. I am hauling some butt on the down hills letting it hang in the wind. I make it down the jeep road, hang a right and now about 2 miles down a well groomed dirt road, which has a downward grade of 2 to 4 percent.
I had caught 3 or 4 riders at the last right turn and now myself, and a dude wearing a "Brooklyn" jersey let it rip. I am going around 25 to 30 mph and getting closer to my goal, the end.
After the 2 miles, myself and "Brooklyn" make a left turn onto the Turqoise Lake paved road to a bit of fan fare. Probably 20 to 30 spectators are yelling and encouraging us on. I think they are really there to see some fools suffering bad. We now have another 2 miles of down hill. Myself and "Brooklyn" get up to about 35 mph. In no time flat, we are at the bottom and the pavement starts pointing up, again.
This 3 mile section that gave me a little over 40 mph about 10.5 hours ago, would not see anything close to that going up. For most of this climb, I am flying at around 5 to 7 mph. I finally reach the summit, make a hard left onto the dirt/jeep road. Spectators and volunteers yell that I have about 11 miles and 55 minutes to make the 12 hour buckle time.
Most of the next 4 miles or so are down hill, except for 3 or 4 sections that are really steep, but not terribly long. This is St. Kevins in reverse. I bomb the down hills and have to dismount and push the steeps.
At the bottom of St. Kevins, I have about 3 miles of dirt road that is mainly flat or point very slightly downward. I then roll onto some pavement for about another mile and then back onto some dirt road for another mile or so.
I then take a hard left turn onto a nasty section of dirt road. Remember the 3'ish mile decent on the paved road out of town this morning, this dirt road is the evil twin sister going up. For about the first mile, the entire road is covered from side to side with golf ball sized, tennis ball sized, baseball sized, softball sized rocks. Being up hill and bumpy enough to jar one's liver out, I again resort to pushing my bike because riding it for me is impossible at this point, which is around 100 miles into the game.
After I get out of boulder blvd, I remount my steed and get after the final 2 miles or so, which are still up hill. I jump on the pedals hard and even make it into the big chainring at times, until I blow up, which does not take much. I down shift a few gears, recover a bit, and then big ring it out until I blow up again.
I make it to the pavement and have about a mile to go. I hang a left, go several hundred yards and then make a right. Now, I have about 3/4 mile to the finish line. And, I will let you guess. Okay, the first 1/4 mile or so is up hill. I drop down into my easist gear and start spinning, which is not moving me forward much at this point. Spectators are still every where, yelling, encouraging and several come out and run beside/behind me. It is like Tour de France stuff. One guy that runs beside me says something and I ask if I missed 12 hours. He tells me I did by about 5 minutes.
A police officer in a squad car pulls up beside me, turns his lights on and is talking to me thru his downed passenger window as I am still pedaling away. I must of looked really bad, really bad. I could hear him talking but my ears were not taking in what he was saying. I keep spinning for the next couple minutes, with him beside me and still talking and I am just nodding my head at him. I crest the hill and now I can see the finish line about 1/2 mile away, which the first half is down hill.
I shift up into some big gears and hammer away, at least tried too. I leave the cop behind and approach a stop sign, which we ran thru with an escort this morning. For some reason, I slow for it. He says something over his PA. I guess he told me to run thru it so I hammer on.
As I blow the stop sign, the road points up, again. Lots of folks are still on both sides of the road yelling and screaming. I pedal with all the fury I have and roll across the finish line as the announcer calls out my name, home city I think, something about a medal and a beer.
As I coast to a stop, someone placed a finishing medal around my neck. Volunteer's offer me water which I drink several glasses of. Then, I just sit, slumped over my bike as exhausted and spent as I have ever been.
The finishing clock displayed 12:07:04.4.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Leadville 2009
On August 12, 2009, I head up for the 2009 Leadville 100 Bike Race which is on August 15, 2009. For those that don't know, the Leadville 100 is a 100 mile mountain bike race, actually about 103 miles, but who is counting, that starts in Leadville, Colorado, which is located at 10,200 feet elevation. The course is 50 miles out, up to 12,600 feet elevation and then the same 50 miles back. It has about 14,000 feet of climbing all above 9,200 feet elevation. Just for comparison, Dallas is at about 600 feet elevation. Entrants for the race are picked from a lottery process in early February. About 1300 people are allowed to race and hear that two to three times that many enter the lottery process. Actually heard a rumor that 10,000 people threw their names into the lottery process this year due to Lance Armstrong doing the race last year and again this year.
The trip is about 800+ miles from the Dallas area. My mother, who travels with me to some of these torture events, is along for this one as well. The first day we stop in Amarillo which is just about half way. On the 13th, we drive up to Salida, Colorado which is about 60 miles south of Leadville, Colorado and at about 7,000 feet elevation. On the 14th, we head up to Leadville and I get registerd and then head back down to the hotel in Buena Vista, Colorado which is 30 miles south of Leadville. Leadville is a very small town of about 2,500 people and hotels/rooms are scarce. This year, I waited until May to attempt to find a room and Buena Vista was as close as I could get to Leadville.
My preparation for the ride included about 2600 miles on my bikes, since January, which equates to roughly 200 hours and culminated with more than 500 miles ridden in June and 500 miles ridden in July. Most of the rides were done on the road and on my road bike. The last month, I switched over to the mountain bike that I would be riding in Leadville.
At 6:15 am on August 15, I line up in downtown Leadville with 1300 of my closest friends waiting for the traditional shotgun blast that starts the race. The organizers want people to line up according to their estimated finishing time. The top riders will do the race in about 7 hours with others taking up to 13 hours. The official clock stops 12 hours after the start but riders are recognized up until the 13th hour, if they complete the course. The temp is in the high 30's, overcast with a very slight dampness to the air. The tops of the mountains, in the direction that we will be going, are not visible. Not a good sign when you are 2 miles up. The shotgun goes off and it takes about 2 minutes for me, positioned near the 11-12 hour finishers at the back, to start moving.
The first 4 miles or so, riders are escorted out of town by a police escort, ugh, mainly downhill, on a paved road out of town. Just coasting, 25 mph is registering on the bike computer. These are cautious times cause the two lane road is clogged with bikes, 6 to 10 across and one mishap by a rider could easily take out dozens of bikes. The police escort, ugh, directs us to a dirt road at the 4 mile mark and the full out race is on.
This dirt road, St. Kevins, pronounced Keevins, is relatively flat for about 2 miles and then gets steep. The road is wet and a bit muddy, but the mud, I guess due to sand and small pebbles, does not stick to your bike like good'ole Texas soil. At about the 6 mile mark, the steepness comes and it is steep. Really steep. I gear down to a smaller/easier gear and get ready for the next 2 miles. I am still surrounded by bike riders as far as the eye can see. The pace is painfully slow and passing is next to impossible due to all of the bikes. Many folks start pushing their bikes early into the climb, which does not help the slowness of the pace. I ride the entire 2 miles at a much slower pace than I would of liked, probably 5 mph and it took me approximately 25 minutes. After the first 2 miles, the steepness subsides, just a little for the next 3 miles, but it is still steep, just not dirt road in front of your face steep. The rest of this climb takes us up and over Carter Summit.
Once over Carter Summit, we get dumped out onto a paved road. Remember the clouds, from earlier, by now, they are dumping a bit of light rain on us and the temps are probably in the high 30's, still. The next 3 miles are downhill and steep. Almost instantly, I get up to about 35 mph and decide that is about the maximum safest speed for me to hold on the wet roads with sweeping turns, so I am riding my brakes to maintain 35. Several riders go by me at 40 plus mph, which is easily done with little to no effort due to the steepness of the decent. About this time, my hands start getting cold, really cold. I am wearing wind/water proof gloves with thick latex gloves underneath them and my hands are pretty much numb by the time I get to the bottom of the decent, which is about 15 miles in. The rest of my body is fairly comfortable.
Now, I am on to the next climb, which is about 5 miles long and takes you up and over Sugarloaf Pass via Hagerman Road. These climb is not steep, by St. Kevins standards, but steep none the less. I settle into a pace and go to work. The road is once again dirt and it is wet. Due to my hands being so cold, I am having a bit of trouble gripping my bottles to drink and eating from my food stored in my pockets on the back of my jersey. By this time, the bike traffic has thinned considerably. If you wanna pass, you can with ease. Most of us appear to be of equal capabilities at this point so not of lot of jockeying takes place. It probably takes me about 45 minutes to finish off this climb and it is on to the Powerline Decent.
Powerline, named so cause the trail is basically a dirt service road underneath the electrical lines that hang overhead, has about 1400 feet of elevation loss over the 4 mile decent. Basically, it is really steep, rutted out, washed out and opportunity abounds to wreck. I enter the decent and catch up with a group of 8 or so riders. Due to the weather, still raining, wet trail and really only one good line down most of the decent, I am stuck riding my brakes most of the way down. Last year, in near perfect conditions, I took a few risks and passed many riders descending Powerline. This year, there would be no such risks taken. On Powerline, my hands were so cold that they were numb. It was very difficult to shift, brake and even hold onto the handlebars at this point.
I exit Powerline and start the couple miles, mainly flat, towards the Pipeline Aid Station which is at mile 26. I get to the aid station at about the 2 hour 48 minute mark. I had hoped to arrive at Pipeline about 30 minutes earlier than this. The volunteers, who staff the aid stations, filled my one bottle that was empty. In almost 3 hours, I had only consumed about 24 ounces of drink and about 400 calories. By my calculations, I was a good 20 ounces low on fluid consumption as well as 300+ calories short of what I had planned at this point. I chugged some water, some Coke and ate some chips, cookies and a bit of sandwich, if i recall, and headed off towards the Twin Lakes Check Point which was 14 miles away.
The route between Powerline and Twin Lakes is relatively flat, relative to Colorado and not Texas, and a mix of dirt/gravel roads, pavement and a new section of single track that is a couple miles, at most. I had to make Twin Lakes by the 4 hour mark or I would not be allowed to continue. By about mile 30'ish, the sun made a brief appearance and soon afterwards, my hands began to thaw. Soon afterwards, I stopped and took off my super thin, rain and wind jacket, that had did an excellent job of doing what it was suppose to do. Also pulled my latex gloves off that I had been wearing under my normal gloves. I also pulled my long sleeve base layer off which left me with just my jersey, which was perfect for this leg of the ride. At about mile 38, you get dumped out onto some pavement which has a steep decent down to Twin Lakes. I coast/pedal the speed up to about 35 mph, go past the place where I saw a downed rider last year with a huge puddle of blood about his head/body being worked on by medic's/staff. Heard he recovered. Funny how you remember that kind of stuff. I then zoom onto a half mile section of a dirt road where rider's families, crews, friends, are on both sides crewing for their racers. Probably 1000 to 2000 folks strong and they are yelling, screaming and cheering all riders on, especially us racing the cut-off times.
The road is getting narrower and narrower due to people surging inwards and I hear folks saying the leader is coming. Knowing they were not talking about me, I look ahead about 300 to 400 yards and I see the leader, race leader, screaming towards me. As the distance is closing between us, his faster than mine if that makes sense, I see that it is Lance Armstrong, by himself and he is moving with a real purpose, to say the least. He goes past me going, I guess, about 25+ mph. I continue past the check point, stop at the aid station, have my bottles filled, eat some chips, sandwich pieces, grab some gels and take off for the 10 mile grind to the top to Columbine Mine.
Just so you know, Twin Lakes sits at about 9,200 feet elevation. Columbine Mine sits at 12,600 feet.
About 10 minutes after I pull away from Twin Lakes, I hear spectators on the course yelling that a rider is coming down. I look up to see the winner of the previous 6 Leadville 100's, Dave Wiens come screaming downhill past me as I creep up a premature climb towards the real climbing that starts at mile 42. Last year, Wiens and Armstrong passed me in almost this exact spot, me going up and them coming down. This year, it had been about 15 minutes since Armstrong had went past me. Just for the unknowing, I am at about mile 40 and Wiens and Armstrong are at about mile 60.
I make it to mile 42 and now the real climbing starts. From now, until mile 50, the dirt road will gain about 3,400 feet, which equates out to about 400 feet of gain a mile, which is huge. Mile 48 to 49 gains about 500 feet with mile 49 to 50 over 600 feet, which is crazy huge. The road is wet and muddy, but once again, the mud does not stick to stuff like Texas mud. I expected this climb to take me about 2 hours and 30 minutes and I planned to ride every inch of it, except about 1.5 miles near the very top that is rock and boulder strewn and mortals, I am told, do not ride.
About mile 44, the clouds get suddenly dark, I hear a clap of thunder and then the rain starts, again. For perspective sake, summer rain at 10,000 plus feet is not like summer rain in Dallas. It is cold, like ice cold. I ride for another few minutes, talking to a female rider and we are wondering if we should put on our rain gear, or not. As the rain continues, I stop and put my rain jacket on and ask a spectator to zip me up and he graciously does. Speaking of ice, about a mile or so later, I noticed that the rain is now bouncing off of me, my bike and the road. The rain is now sleet. I solider on and I am actually passing quiet a few bikers.
I failed to mention, I am wearing a heart rate monitor but I find it of little relevance for me, being a flat lander, at high altitude. In around Dallas, I can tell how hard I am working, or not, by my heart rate. At altitude, where the air is less saturated with oxygen, my heart rate and my effort do not seem to have much relevance to each other.
About mile 47, you travel above treeline, hence no more trees. Did I mention how beautiful the Aspen Trees are on the climb up to tree line? They are quiet beautiful.
I am still pedaling, in granny granny most of the time but venture down to like 32 or maybe 30 on the cog for brief periods. I am rolling along about 4 mph and have not walked an inch of the trail, yet, except for when I got stopped on a step section of Powerline earlier when the herd of bikes stopped in front of me and totally blocked the trail. I am chatting up people as I pass them and most are hurting bad, really bad. Most just say they are beat, hurting, or just nod their heads at me.
Ever since mile 43 or so, droves of bikers are passing me heading back from the 50 mile turn around at the top of Columbine. They try to stay on their right and I stay on my right. They have a much harder time due to their gravity induced speeds.
I finally make it to the really steep stuff about 48.5 miles and as far as the eye can see up the trail, folks are walking their bikes, probably 75 or more. I begin the long hike a bike. At every crest of the steep stuff, you are welcomed by more really steep stuff with folks walking their bikes. Nobody is riding, other than the folks coming down hill. For the next 1 mile of so, all that can be done is concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to stumble on the rocks that litter the steep trail.
When you get to mile 49.7 or so, you come to a little plateau, and then it goes down hill briefly to the Columbine Check Point and Aid Station. Never seen a more welcomed site, except last year at this same place. I ride past the check and stop at the Aid Station. I drink some drink, and drink some of the customary chicken noodle soup that is handed out at the top. I try to eat chips, cookies, etc., but the food does not want to go down, or should I say stay down.
All things considered, I feel pretty good, except for a massive, did I mention massive, headache, I had creep up on me about 2 hours earlier. Even thou I cannot pinpoint it's exact cause, I would guess that it could of been due to the freezing temps earlier, not eating enough, not drinking enough, a little bit of altitude, a little bit of climbing, a little bit of over exertion and about 6 hours and 40 minutes of time that had expired.
I then take off the way which I just came for the 10 miles back to Twin Lakes. This part is pure joy knowing that you can almost ride the whole 10 miles back without pedaling, unless you choose. But of course, you pedal, because you are on a bike and that is what bikes are made for, pedaling. I make it back to Twin Lakes with little effort in about 45 minutes or so. Amazing what gravity does for you, 165 minutes up, 45 minutes down. At Twin Lakes, the volunteers do their thing which is get you food, drink, hold your bike. They are the bestest. I talk to the two that are helping me, a bit too long, and then see the a volunteer from last year. He was the dude that gave me a ride back to town last year after I missed a turn coming down Columbine and traveled an extra 8 miles to get to the 60 mile check. I talk to him for a bit, a bit too long, he encourages me on and I take off. The whole time, I had not realized that I had not went past the check point, which is some 100 yards or less from the aid station. It would of been a real bummer to mess off 10 minutes at the aid station and then miss the cut-off time, which was 8 hours. Luckily, I was probably around 7 hours 30 minutes when I rolled into the Aid Station.
As I head back towards the Pipeline Check Point, I see that I only have about 1:20 minutes to do the 14 miles which would get me to the 74 miles. Earlier, before I had reached the check at the top of Columbine, I thought the odds of me getting past Twin Lakes at 8 hours had already left town. As I go up the short steep road climb of about 2 miles, I am passing a few folks and my legs still feel good and have not cramped on the bike. My right leg did cramp just a bit when I stumbled pushing up Columbine, but only for a moment. As I get over the climb, and start navigating the now relatively, relative to Colorado and not Texas, flat gravel and dirt roads, I start running times and mileage thru my head to see if I can make the 74 mile check at 9 hours. By now, it is probably in the high 50's to low 60's and the rain has long since left. I am pressing pretty good. I then get to then new single track which is a series of 6 or 7 switch backs, uphill, and probably close to 2 miles long. I ride all of this, pass a few folks and ride away from a few who had been behind me.
I push on, on relatively flat dirt roads. About 3/4 mile from the Pipeline Check Point, my elapsed time on my watch goes past 9 hours and I know my ride will end at 74 miles. I pull into the Check Point and the volunteers cut my wrist band off and take the timing chip from my left ankle. My elapsed time on my trusty Polar Watch read 9:02:55.
Another rider, who missed the 9:00 cutoff said his Garmin had registered 10,000 feet of climbing at the 74 mile check. I believe the climbing at the 74 mile check to be closer to 12,000 because, except for the climb back up Powerline, almost all of the major climbing is done. The entire course has around 14,000 feet of climbing.
Oh, guess I should mention that Lance Armstrong won in 6:28 minutes, taking 20 minutes off of the record, and reportedly rode the last 10 miles on a flatish tire. Dave Wiens, who had won the previous 6, came in at second around 6:58.
I am guessing that I will be back in 2010 to see if my then almost 45 year old body can finally get it done.
Peace,
steven
The trip is about 800+ miles from the Dallas area. My mother, who travels with me to some of these torture events, is along for this one as well. The first day we stop in Amarillo which is just about half way. On the 13th, we drive up to Salida, Colorado which is about 60 miles south of Leadville, Colorado and at about 7,000 feet elevation. On the 14th, we head up to Leadville and I get registerd and then head back down to the hotel in Buena Vista, Colorado which is 30 miles south of Leadville. Leadville is a very small town of about 2,500 people and hotels/rooms are scarce. This year, I waited until May to attempt to find a room and Buena Vista was as close as I could get to Leadville.
My preparation for the ride included about 2600 miles on my bikes, since January, which equates to roughly 200 hours and culminated with more than 500 miles ridden in June and 500 miles ridden in July. Most of the rides were done on the road and on my road bike. The last month, I switched over to the mountain bike that I would be riding in Leadville.
At 6:15 am on August 15, I line up in downtown Leadville with 1300 of my closest friends waiting for the traditional shotgun blast that starts the race. The organizers want people to line up according to their estimated finishing time. The top riders will do the race in about 7 hours with others taking up to 13 hours. The official clock stops 12 hours after the start but riders are recognized up until the 13th hour, if they complete the course. The temp is in the high 30's, overcast with a very slight dampness to the air. The tops of the mountains, in the direction that we will be going, are not visible. Not a good sign when you are 2 miles up. The shotgun goes off and it takes about 2 minutes for me, positioned near the 11-12 hour finishers at the back, to start moving.
The first 4 miles or so, riders are escorted out of town by a police escort, ugh, mainly downhill, on a paved road out of town. Just coasting, 25 mph is registering on the bike computer. These are cautious times cause the two lane road is clogged with bikes, 6 to 10 across and one mishap by a rider could easily take out dozens of bikes. The police escort, ugh, directs us to a dirt road at the 4 mile mark and the full out race is on.
This dirt road, St. Kevins, pronounced Keevins, is relatively flat for about 2 miles and then gets steep. The road is wet and a bit muddy, but the mud, I guess due to sand and small pebbles, does not stick to your bike like good'ole Texas soil. At about the 6 mile mark, the steepness comes and it is steep. Really steep. I gear down to a smaller/easier gear and get ready for the next 2 miles. I am still surrounded by bike riders as far as the eye can see. The pace is painfully slow and passing is next to impossible due to all of the bikes. Many folks start pushing their bikes early into the climb, which does not help the slowness of the pace. I ride the entire 2 miles at a much slower pace than I would of liked, probably 5 mph and it took me approximately 25 minutes. After the first 2 miles, the steepness subsides, just a little for the next 3 miles, but it is still steep, just not dirt road in front of your face steep. The rest of this climb takes us up and over Carter Summit.
Once over Carter Summit, we get dumped out onto a paved road. Remember the clouds, from earlier, by now, they are dumping a bit of light rain on us and the temps are probably in the high 30's, still. The next 3 miles are downhill and steep. Almost instantly, I get up to about 35 mph and decide that is about the maximum safest speed for me to hold on the wet roads with sweeping turns, so I am riding my brakes to maintain 35. Several riders go by me at 40 plus mph, which is easily done with little to no effort due to the steepness of the decent. About this time, my hands start getting cold, really cold. I am wearing wind/water proof gloves with thick latex gloves underneath them and my hands are pretty much numb by the time I get to the bottom of the decent, which is about 15 miles in. The rest of my body is fairly comfortable.
Now, I am on to the next climb, which is about 5 miles long and takes you up and over Sugarloaf Pass via Hagerman Road. These climb is not steep, by St. Kevins standards, but steep none the less. I settle into a pace and go to work. The road is once again dirt and it is wet. Due to my hands being so cold, I am having a bit of trouble gripping my bottles to drink and eating from my food stored in my pockets on the back of my jersey. By this time, the bike traffic has thinned considerably. If you wanna pass, you can with ease. Most of us appear to be of equal capabilities at this point so not of lot of jockeying takes place. It probably takes me about 45 minutes to finish off this climb and it is on to the Powerline Decent.
Powerline, named so cause the trail is basically a dirt service road underneath the electrical lines that hang overhead, has about 1400 feet of elevation loss over the 4 mile decent. Basically, it is really steep, rutted out, washed out and opportunity abounds to wreck. I enter the decent and catch up with a group of 8 or so riders. Due to the weather, still raining, wet trail and really only one good line down most of the decent, I am stuck riding my brakes most of the way down. Last year, in near perfect conditions, I took a few risks and passed many riders descending Powerline. This year, there would be no such risks taken. On Powerline, my hands were so cold that they were numb. It was very difficult to shift, brake and even hold onto the handlebars at this point.
I exit Powerline and start the couple miles, mainly flat, towards the Pipeline Aid Station which is at mile 26. I get to the aid station at about the 2 hour 48 minute mark. I had hoped to arrive at Pipeline about 30 minutes earlier than this. The volunteers, who staff the aid stations, filled my one bottle that was empty. In almost 3 hours, I had only consumed about 24 ounces of drink and about 400 calories. By my calculations, I was a good 20 ounces low on fluid consumption as well as 300+ calories short of what I had planned at this point. I chugged some water, some Coke and ate some chips, cookies and a bit of sandwich, if i recall, and headed off towards the Twin Lakes Check Point which was 14 miles away.
The route between Powerline and Twin Lakes is relatively flat, relative to Colorado and not Texas, and a mix of dirt/gravel roads, pavement and a new section of single track that is a couple miles, at most. I had to make Twin Lakes by the 4 hour mark or I would not be allowed to continue. By about mile 30'ish, the sun made a brief appearance and soon afterwards, my hands began to thaw. Soon afterwards, I stopped and took off my super thin, rain and wind jacket, that had did an excellent job of doing what it was suppose to do. Also pulled my latex gloves off that I had been wearing under my normal gloves. I also pulled my long sleeve base layer off which left me with just my jersey, which was perfect for this leg of the ride. At about mile 38, you get dumped out onto some pavement which has a steep decent down to Twin Lakes. I coast/pedal the speed up to about 35 mph, go past the place where I saw a downed rider last year with a huge puddle of blood about his head/body being worked on by medic's/staff. Heard he recovered. Funny how you remember that kind of stuff. I then zoom onto a half mile section of a dirt road where rider's families, crews, friends, are on both sides crewing for their racers. Probably 1000 to 2000 folks strong and they are yelling, screaming and cheering all riders on, especially us racing the cut-off times.
The road is getting narrower and narrower due to people surging inwards and I hear folks saying the leader is coming. Knowing they were not talking about me, I look ahead about 300 to 400 yards and I see the leader, race leader, screaming towards me. As the distance is closing between us, his faster than mine if that makes sense, I see that it is Lance Armstrong, by himself and he is moving with a real purpose, to say the least. He goes past me going, I guess, about 25+ mph. I continue past the check point, stop at the aid station, have my bottles filled, eat some chips, sandwich pieces, grab some gels and take off for the 10 mile grind to the top to Columbine Mine.
Just so you know, Twin Lakes sits at about 9,200 feet elevation. Columbine Mine sits at 12,600 feet.
About 10 minutes after I pull away from Twin Lakes, I hear spectators on the course yelling that a rider is coming down. I look up to see the winner of the previous 6 Leadville 100's, Dave Wiens come screaming downhill past me as I creep up a premature climb towards the real climbing that starts at mile 42. Last year, Wiens and Armstrong passed me in almost this exact spot, me going up and them coming down. This year, it had been about 15 minutes since Armstrong had went past me. Just for the unknowing, I am at about mile 40 and Wiens and Armstrong are at about mile 60.
I make it to mile 42 and now the real climbing starts. From now, until mile 50, the dirt road will gain about 3,400 feet, which equates out to about 400 feet of gain a mile, which is huge. Mile 48 to 49 gains about 500 feet with mile 49 to 50 over 600 feet, which is crazy huge. The road is wet and muddy, but once again, the mud does not stick to stuff like Texas mud. I expected this climb to take me about 2 hours and 30 minutes and I planned to ride every inch of it, except about 1.5 miles near the very top that is rock and boulder strewn and mortals, I am told, do not ride.
About mile 44, the clouds get suddenly dark, I hear a clap of thunder and then the rain starts, again. For perspective sake, summer rain at 10,000 plus feet is not like summer rain in Dallas. It is cold, like ice cold. I ride for another few minutes, talking to a female rider and we are wondering if we should put on our rain gear, or not. As the rain continues, I stop and put my rain jacket on and ask a spectator to zip me up and he graciously does. Speaking of ice, about a mile or so later, I noticed that the rain is now bouncing off of me, my bike and the road. The rain is now sleet. I solider on and I am actually passing quiet a few bikers.
I failed to mention, I am wearing a heart rate monitor but I find it of little relevance for me, being a flat lander, at high altitude. In around Dallas, I can tell how hard I am working, or not, by my heart rate. At altitude, where the air is less saturated with oxygen, my heart rate and my effort do not seem to have much relevance to each other.
About mile 47, you travel above treeline, hence no more trees. Did I mention how beautiful the Aspen Trees are on the climb up to tree line? They are quiet beautiful.
I am still pedaling, in granny granny most of the time but venture down to like 32 or maybe 30 on the cog for brief periods. I am rolling along about 4 mph and have not walked an inch of the trail, yet, except for when I got stopped on a step section of Powerline earlier when the herd of bikes stopped in front of me and totally blocked the trail. I am chatting up people as I pass them and most are hurting bad, really bad. Most just say they are beat, hurting, or just nod their heads at me.
Ever since mile 43 or so, droves of bikers are passing me heading back from the 50 mile turn around at the top of Columbine. They try to stay on their right and I stay on my right. They have a much harder time due to their gravity induced speeds.
I finally make it to the really steep stuff about 48.5 miles and as far as the eye can see up the trail, folks are walking their bikes, probably 75 or more. I begin the long hike a bike. At every crest of the steep stuff, you are welcomed by more really steep stuff with folks walking their bikes. Nobody is riding, other than the folks coming down hill. For the next 1 mile of so, all that can be done is concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to stumble on the rocks that litter the steep trail.
When you get to mile 49.7 or so, you come to a little plateau, and then it goes down hill briefly to the Columbine Check Point and Aid Station. Never seen a more welcomed site, except last year at this same place. I ride past the check and stop at the Aid Station. I drink some drink, and drink some of the customary chicken noodle soup that is handed out at the top. I try to eat chips, cookies, etc., but the food does not want to go down, or should I say stay down.
All things considered, I feel pretty good, except for a massive, did I mention massive, headache, I had creep up on me about 2 hours earlier. Even thou I cannot pinpoint it's exact cause, I would guess that it could of been due to the freezing temps earlier, not eating enough, not drinking enough, a little bit of altitude, a little bit of climbing, a little bit of over exertion and about 6 hours and 40 minutes of time that had expired.
I then take off the way which I just came for the 10 miles back to Twin Lakes. This part is pure joy knowing that you can almost ride the whole 10 miles back without pedaling, unless you choose. But of course, you pedal, because you are on a bike and that is what bikes are made for, pedaling. I make it back to Twin Lakes with little effort in about 45 minutes or so. Amazing what gravity does for you, 165 minutes up, 45 minutes down. At Twin Lakes, the volunteers do their thing which is get you food, drink, hold your bike. They are the bestest. I talk to the two that are helping me, a bit too long, and then see the a volunteer from last year. He was the dude that gave me a ride back to town last year after I missed a turn coming down Columbine and traveled an extra 8 miles to get to the 60 mile check. I talk to him for a bit, a bit too long, he encourages me on and I take off. The whole time, I had not realized that I had not went past the check point, which is some 100 yards or less from the aid station. It would of been a real bummer to mess off 10 minutes at the aid station and then miss the cut-off time, which was 8 hours. Luckily, I was probably around 7 hours 30 minutes when I rolled into the Aid Station.
As I head back towards the Pipeline Check Point, I see that I only have about 1:20 minutes to do the 14 miles which would get me to the 74 miles. Earlier, before I had reached the check at the top of Columbine, I thought the odds of me getting past Twin Lakes at 8 hours had already left town. As I go up the short steep road climb of about 2 miles, I am passing a few folks and my legs still feel good and have not cramped on the bike. My right leg did cramp just a bit when I stumbled pushing up Columbine, but only for a moment. As I get over the climb, and start navigating the now relatively, relative to Colorado and not Texas, flat gravel and dirt roads, I start running times and mileage thru my head to see if I can make the 74 mile check at 9 hours. By now, it is probably in the high 50's to low 60's and the rain has long since left. I am pressing pretty good. I then get to then new single track which is a series of 6 or 7 switch backs, uphill, and probably close to 2 miles long. I ride all of this, pass a few folks and ride away from a few who had been behind me.
I push on, on relatively flat dirt roads. About 3/4 mile from the Pipeline Check Point, my elapsed time on my watch goes past 9 hours and I know my ride will end at 74 miles. I pull into the Check Point and the volunteers cut my wrist band off and take the timing chip from my left ankle. My elapsed time on my trusty Polar Watch read 9:02:55.
Another rider, who missed the 9:00 cutoff said his Garmin had registered 10,000 feet of climbing at the 74 mile check. I believe the climbing at the 74 mile check to be closer to 12,000 because, except for the climb back up Powerline, almost all of the major climbing is done. The entire course has around 14,000 feet of climbing.
Oh, guess I should mention that Lance Armstrong won in 6:28 minutes, taking 20 minutes off of the record, and reportedly rode the last 10 miles on a flatish tire. Dave Wiens, who had won the previous 6, came in at second around 6:58.
I am guessing that I will be back in 2010 to see if my then almost 45 year old body can finally get it done.
Peace,
steven
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Syllamo's Revenge 2008
I make the 400'ish mile drive up to Mountain View, Arkansas on May 02, 2008 for the 2008 Syllamo's Revenge which will be on Saturday, May 03, 2008.
I make it to the race site Saturday morning about 7:00am for the 8:00am start. It is about 48 degrees with a high expected around 70. As I start getting my bike ready, someone yells at me from across the way and I then see Jersey and Stuart, still in Jersey's car. I make my way over and talk to them for a bit. I then get back over to my bike and get it and myself ready. I meet Brady Kendall for the first time, who is parked across from me. I see Ray Porter a few minutes before the race meeting and we talk a bit. About 7:45, they have the pre-race meeting with the riders and I am pretty cold with just a short sleeve jersey on. About 8:00, the race is off.
The race starts off for about 1/5 of a mile on a paved park road and then makes a hard right turn onto a 1 mile dirt road climb at a 11 percent incline. I inspected the first hundred yards or so of the climb the previous day and found it to be washed out and rutted very bad due to flooding rains that Mt. View has experienced this spring. I knew issues would be forthcoming when 300 bikers tried to squeeze onto the climb and find their spots on the only smooth sections going up.
As we enter the very beginning of the climb, folks are hitting the ruts and washouts and wrecking, dismounting, crashing. I enter the sketchy beginning clean, just ahead of Jersey and Stuart. As I make it about 100 yards and about to pass a female rider just to my right, she hits a rut, wobbles and wrecks to her left, which happens to be where I am. She takes my front wheel out but I get my left foot down and don't fall. We get untangled with riders going every which way around us. I am now in a washout and it takes me about 50 yards of so or pushing before I can find a break in the moving congo bike line before I can jump my bike back onto the smoother line. Jersey and then Stuart passed while I was trying to get back on my bike. It is much harder to get started on a 11 percent grade that is all washed out than I realized. Anyways, I get rolling again and go at the task of climbing the road. I then feel something running down my right leg and look down to see that a package of gu I had stuck in my lycra just above my knee had busted when the female hit me. At least it wasn't blood, which I was expecting. I catch back up to Stuart and we enter the single track within a couple of bikes of each other. Jersey is gone and I think Porter is already at the first check.
Immediately, mud starts making its presence known. There are mud bogs every couple hundred yards or so. It is rideable, but soupy and muddy. On top of the mud and water, the next 33 miles or so are littered with 12 billion rocks. Big boulders, lots of large flat rocks, baby head rocks, small boulders, pea sized rocks, bowling bowl sized rocks, golf ball sized rocks. IDB is a paved highway compared to Syllamos. The rocks, every last one of them, are slick as heck. Rubber tires caked in mud and muddy wet rocks don't mix at all. Anywho, Stuart and I ride together with a group of 10 or so. I stop and help some racer looking dude out who is pushing his bike, wheelie style, along the trail. He says that he had burped his front tire flat two times already and is out of co2. I give him my inflator, he inflates his tire, thanks me and is off in a quickness. A few miles later, I ride up on racer looking dude pushing his bike wheelie style again. I ask him if he wants the inflator again, and he declines. I tell him I have 4 more cartridges plus a hand pump, and no i'm not wearing a camel of any type. He declines. again and says he is just going to make the first check and see what he can do there. Stuart and I then ride out the first leg which is about 15 miles. It took well over 2 hours to make the first check. I get a colored mark on my number plate, fill my bottles, eat some banana and orange, lube my chain, which is caked solid with mud along with my rear derailleur and roll out just ahead of Stuart. The next check point is at mile 25.
The trail is again more of the same. Lots of mud, rocks and muddy, slippery, rocky, hike a bike sections. At about mile 18 or so, I see Ray Porter coming back down the trail. I ask him whats wrong and he tells me he is finished, pulled the cleat mount out of the bottom of his shoe. He asks me why I am way back here, referring to my stellar placement at the moment, and I tell him. Anyone who might read this will have to wait for my excuse. Anyway, I head my way, slowly, and he heads his. I am now doing the math in my head and wondering if I will make the 35 mile check point. The cutoff time at check point 3 is 2:30pm. I am averaging a little over 6 pathetic miles and hour. 6 miles an hour in 4 hours will get me about 24 miles. I continue on, still drinking and eating like I should. I make check point 2 at mile 25 right around noon and get my second colored mark on my number plate. Still on my 6 mph pace. I fill my bottles, eat some fruit. Lube my mud caked chain again and roll out. I have a little over 2 hours to make check point 3 at 35 miles before the cutoff time. In my mind, I am thinking it is not going to happen.
I take off and enter what is probably the most difficult portion of the trail. Lots of mud, lots of rocks and lots of hiking for me and a group of 5 or 6 that I am riding with. We ride a little, hike a lot. After almost 2 hours of hiking and a little riding, I make check point 3 at about 1:50pm, a whopping 40 minutes before the cutoff time and get my third colored mark on my number plate. I eat some fruit, fill my bottles, lube my muddy chain, clean some mud off of the mud caked rear derailleur and take off on the next loop which is 12 miles of single track bliss.
In this section, all of the large nasty rock sections are gone as well as the mud. The trail is covered in rocks, but they are pretty much pea sized to marble sized. It has lots of rollers, that are fun to ride and nothing that is too steep. I stop and help another rider with a flat who is out of co2. I think he said this was his third of the day. I give him my inflator, he airs up and rolls off after several thanks. I continue on, which seems for ever and roll into check point 4 at around 3:50pm. It took me almost 2 hours to ride 12 miles of some of the finest single track I have ever seen. Man I was killing it.
I am now off on the last 2 miles, the first mile is some easy single track and the last mile includes going down the 1 mile climb that started this day of reckoning. As I get up over 30 mph on the downhill, I hit one of the washouts, it bounces me way left into more washouts. Somehow, I am able to slow without wrecking, gain some control and continue on. Once I get to the bottom and try to pedal, I find my chain wrapped around my pedal and crank arm. It takes me a couple minutes to get it un-twisted, remounted and then I roll on thru the finish line right at 8 hours.
Once I make it over to my car, Porter comes over and chats with me a bit and leaves. Jersey then comes over, showered, looking relaxed and beer cup in hand and tells me he knocked it out in 6:20. He studded up. He tells me the overall winner did it on a ss in 4:30 and beat the second place, who was on a ss too, by 20 minutes. I believe the third place finisher was on a ss as well. Stuart then rolls thru the finish at about 8:30.
As far as my finish and time, really don't know what happened or went wrong. I did have the flu really bad for two weeks in April and it hung around for a third week just for giggles. So much for the flu shot working. I didn't touch my bike for almost two weeks after the OC, due to being flu'ed out. I did ride a couple easy hours during the third week of April and a few hours the fourth week of April, but no intensity.
Without a doubt, this was my worst day ever on a bike, and I had a bad one at ORAMM last year. I was out almost from the beginning. I never cramped, never bonked, just did not have it. I had no power, not that I have much anyway. I spent most of the day in the middle chain ring and 34 cog or the granny and 34 cog because it was about all I could muster. Every pedal stroke required way too much effort. I suffered in a way that I have never known on a bike. In 8 hours, lots of things went thru my mind about the problem. Maybe it was the flu. Maybe I am in the wrong sport. Maybe I am not riding enough. Maybe I should take up roller blading. Maybe I should sell my bikes, not. I never thought about quitting, but thinking that I wasn't going to make the cutoff was very humbling.
All in all, it was still a good day. I never wrecked, except for falling over one time while at a dead stop around the 5 hour mark. Looked like a complete tard, but nobody was around to see. The bike did not fail me, not even the shifting, which is a miracle in its self due to all of the mud.
Later this week, I will be back on the steeds to get ready for the next round.
Peace,
s
I make it to the race site Saturday morning about 7:00am for the 8:00am start. It is about 48 degrees with a high expected around 70. As I start getting my bike ready, someone yells at me from across the way and I then see Jersey and Stuart, still in Jersey's car. I make my way over and talk to them for a bit. I then get back over to my bike and get it and myself ready. I meet Brady Kendall for the first time, who is parked across from me. I see Ray Porter a few minutes before the race meeting and we talk a bit. About 7:45, they have the pre-race meeting with the riders and I am pretty cold with just a short sleeve jersey on. About 8:00, the race is off.
The race starts off for about 1/5 of a mile on a paved park road and then makes a hard right turn onto a 1 mile dirt road climb at a 11 percent incline. I inspected the first hundred yards or so of the climb the previous day and found it to be washed out and rutted very bad due to flooding rains that Mt. View has experienced this spring. I knew issues would be forthcoming when 300 bikers tried to squeeze onto the climb and find their spots on the only smooth sections going up.
As we enter the very beginning of the climb, folks are hitting the ruts and washouts and wrecking, dismounting, crashing. I enter the sketchy beginning clean, just ahead of Jersey and Stuart. As I make it about 100 yards and about to pass a female rider just to my right, she hits a rut, wobbles and wrecks to her left, which happens to be where I am. She takes my front wheel out but I get my left foot down and don't fall. We get untangled with riders going every which way around us. I am now in a washout and it takes me about 50 yards of so or pushing before I can find a break in the moving congo bike line before I can jump my bike back onto the smoother line. Jersey and then Stuart passed while I was trying to get back on my bike. It is much harder to get started on a 11 percent grade that is all washed out than I realized. Anyways, I get rolling again and go at the task of climbing the road. I then feel something running down my right leg and look down to see that a package of gu I had stuck in my lycra just above my knee had busted when the female hit me. At least it wasn't blood, which I was expecting. I catch back up to Stuart and we enter the single track within a couple of bikes of each other. Jersey is gone and I think Porter is already at the first check.
Immediately, mud starts making its presence known. There are mud bogs every couple hundred yards or so. It is rideable, but soupy and muddy. On top of the mud and water, the next 33 miles or so are littered with 12 billion rocks. Big boulders, lots of large flat rocks, baby head rocks, small boulders, pea sized rocks, bowling bowl sized rocks, golf ball sized rocks. IDB is a paved highway compared to Syllamos. The rocks, every last one of them, are slick as heck. Rubber tires caked in mud and muddy wet rocks don't mix at all. Anywho, Stuart and I ride together with a group of 10 or so. I stop and help some racer looking dude out who is pushing his bike, wheelie style, along the trail. He says that he had burped his front tire flat two times already and is out of co2. I give him my inflator, he inflates his tire, thanks me and is off in a quickness. A few miles later, I ride up on racer looking dude pushing his bike wheelie style again. I ask him if he wants the inflator again, and he declines. I tell him I have 4 more cartridges plus a hand pump, and no i'm not wearing a camel of any type. He declines. again and says he is just going to make the first check and see what he can do there. Stuart and I then ride out the first leg which is about 15 miles. It took well over 2 hours to make the first check. I get a colored mark on my number plate, fill my bottles, eat some banana and orange, lube my chain, which is caked solid with mud along with my rear derailleur and roll out just ahead of Stuart. The next check point is at mile 25.
The trail is again more of the same. Lots of mud, rocks and muddy, slippery, rocky, hike a bike sections. At about mile 18 or so, I see Ray Porter coming back down the trail. I ask him whats wrong and he tells me he is finished, pulled the cleat mount out of the bottom of his shoe. He asks me why I am way back here, referring to my stellar placement at the moment, and I tell him. Anyone who might read this will have to wait for my excuse. Anyway, I head my way, slowly, and he heads his. I am now doing the math in my head and wondering if I will make the 35 mile check point. The cutoff time at check point 3 is 2:30pm. I am averaging a little over 6 pathetic miles and hour. 6 miles an hour in 4 hours will get me about 24 miles. I continue on, still drinking and eating like I should. I make check point 2 at mile 25 right around noon and get my second colored mark on my number plate. Still on my 6 mph pace. I fill my bottles, eat some fruit. Lube my mud caked chain again and roll out. I have a little over 2 hours to make check point 3 at 35 miles before the cutoff time. In my mind, I am thinking it is not going to happen.
I take off and enter what is probably the most difficult portion of the trail. Lots of mud, lots of rocks and lots of hiking for me and a group of 5 or 6 that I am riding with. We ride a little, hike a lot. After almost 2 hours of hiking and a little riding, I make check point 3 at about 1:50pm, a whopping 40 minutes before the cutoff time and get my third colored mark on my number plate. I eat some fruit, fill my bottles, lube my muddy chain, clean some mud off of the mud caked rear derailleur and take off on the next loop which is 12 miles of single track bliss.
In this section, all of the large nasty rock sections are gone as well as the mud. The trail is covered in rocks, but they are pretty much pea sized to marble sized. It has lots of rollers, that are fun to ride and nothing that is too steep. I stop and help another rider with a flat who is out of co2. I think he said this was his third of the day. I give him my inflator, he airs up and rolls off after several thanks. I continue on, which seems for ever and roll into check point 4 at around 3:50pm. It took me almost 2 hours to ride 12 miles of some of the finest single track I have ever seen. Man I was killing it.
I am now off on the last 2 miles, the first mile is some easy single track and the last mile includes going down the 1 mile climb that started this day of reckoning. As I get up over 30 mph on the downhill, I hit one of the washouts, it bounces me way left into more washouts. Somehow, I am able to slow without wrecking, gain some control and continue on. Once I get to the bottom and try to pedal, I find my chain wrapped around my pedal and crank arm. It takes me a couple minutes to get it un-twisted, remounted and then I roll on thru the finish line right at 8 hours.
Once I make it over to my car, Porter comes over and chats with me a bit and leaves. Jersey then comes over, showered, looking relaxed and beer cup in hand and tells me he knocked it out in 6:20. He studded up. He tells me the overall winner did it on a ss in 4:30 and beat the second place, who was on a ss too, by 20 minutes. I believe the third place finisher was on a ss as well. Stuart then rolls thru the finish at about 8:30.
As far as my finish and time, really don't know what happened or went wrong. I did have the flu really bad for two weeks in April and it hung around for a third week just for giggles. So much for the flu shot working. I didn't touch my bike for almost two weeks after the OC, due to being flu'ed out. I did ride a couple easy hours during the third week of April and a few hours the fourth week of April, but no intensity.
Without a doubt, this was my worst day ever on a bike, and I had a bad one at ORAMM last year. I was out almost from the beginning. I never cramped, never bonked, just did not have it. I had no power, not that I have much anyway. I spent most of the day in the middle chain ring and 34 cog or the granny and 34 cog because it was about all I could muster. Every pedal stroke required way too much effort. I suffered in a way that I have never known on a bike. In 8 hours, lots of things went thru my mind about the problem. Maybe it was the flu. Maybe I am in the wrong sport. Maybe I am not riding enough. Maybe I should take up roller blading. Maybe I should sell my bikes, not. I never thought about quitting, but thinking that I wasn't going to make the cutoff was very humbling.
All in all, it was still a good day. I never wrecked, except for falling over one time while at a dead stop around the 5 hour mark. Looked like a complete tard, but nobody was around to see. The bike did not fail me, not even the shifting, which is a miracle in its self due to all of the mud.
Later this week, I will be back on the steeds to get ready for the next round.
Peace,
s
Monday, April 7, 2008
Ouachita Challenge 2008
I arrive in Oden, Arkansas on Saturday afternoon for the 2008 Ouachita Challenge Race which is on Sunday, April 06. I was still undecided if I was going to ride the singlespeed, as I did last year, or gears. I had both with me. If it was going to be a mudfest, the singlespeed it would be. If it was mainly dry, gears it would be. As I looked around the Oden school grounds, I see some muddy tour riders, but not overly muddy. I make it to the registration table to pickup my packet and ask the people if they have any idea how muddy the trail is. I am told that it is not too bad. I had registered in the singlespeed class back in December, but something has crept into my not so distant future and it dictates that I do some long rides on a geared mountain bike. Ugh. The lady at the registration finds my packet, which has me down in the singlespeed class. I look at it, think, and tell her I am going to do it on gears. She marks out the singlespeed on my number plate, changes something in the paperwork and it is done. I am down with gears.
My mom, who is retired and likes to travel to some of these torture events with me, is having a seat in the cafeteria where many folks are having their fill of the meal provided with the price of admission. I give mom my packet and make my way out to the finish line and bump into some familiar faces. I find Sparky, Cope, Ryan, Bgreen, all of the Chops, Purly and others that I am currently not remembering. I chat with all for a bit and then make my way back to the cafeteria for the meal. I grab a tray of spaghetti, some salad and a drink. Brad has a seat with me as well as Ferguson. We eat a little and talk a little. ICUJeremy and Racer99 come thru the cafeteria and I speak with them for a second. Solo comes down and has a seat for a moment. It is now time to get back to the lodge on Rich Mountain near Mena and get my stuff ready for Sunday.
On Sunday, I get up about 6:15 am, gather up a few things and head out to the car around 6:30 am where I find the fog so dense that I can only see about 100 feet. The lodge on Rich Mountain sits around 3000 feet elevation and it is about 14 miles from Mena. I take off down the mountain, a little faster than I probably should and now realize I need gas. It is about 54 miles to Oden, it is foggy, I need gas, and I have an hour and a half before the start. About halfway down the mountain, most of the fog lifts and I make it to Mena. I gas up and drive on. I make it to Oden about 7:30 am and it is around 48 degrees . I do the pre-ride bike ready, get dressed, which includes only a short sleeve jersey because that is all I packed, make it over to the starting line with about 5 minutes to go. I meet up with Chop. Icu is right in front of us. Further up in the crowd I see Coz. Cope, who rode the day before, walks over to us, says a bit, and heads off to get some video of the start, or so he says.
The race is off. About 200 of us head out of the parking lot with a truck leading the way, we make a left onto the road, go a couple hundred yards and make a right onto another two lane road. At this point I am in the back quarter of the field and the leaders and pace truck look to be three or four hundred yards in front of me. I ease to the far left of the road. Knowing that I am stone cold, my heart, lungs and legs, I am taking it easy since it takes me about 15 minutes or even longer, to get the diesel engine firing. We travel on the paved highway for what seems like 4 or 5 miles and then make a right turn onto a dirt road. By now, I am probably in the top 50 or so. I am riding in a group of about 10 riders, one of which is a female decked out in hammer gear. This rolling dirt road has the group of us see-sawing back in forth for some reason. A group of 3 or 4 singlespeeders, decked out in cute matching gear, pass, get in front of me and hammer girl, slow down, and then we pass them at the next hill. This idiotness continues for the about 4 miles or so until we enter the single track. About now, I am pretty much warmed up, or as much as a 42 year old body can be. I haven't even noticed the cool morning air.
Right away, the mud starts making its presence known. The trail is littered with muddy sections, some have standing water and some are just plain mud. A group of about 10 of us are making pretty good time, with me being near the back. This section of the trail, which I believe is the Womble, is considered by most to be some of the best riding on the entire course. But today, it is a muddy mess. This section, which is around 12 miles or so, has a minimum of 10 to 20 muddy spots per mile, and probably alot more. There is hardly any climbing, or rocks, to speak of, but has many small creek crossings. Within the first few miles, my feet are already soaked and my black bike is already splattered with mud. I make it out of the Womble with no problems and make it to the first aid station to refill my two bottles. I do have a camel on my back, but no drink in it. It is only packed with a couple tubes, co2 inflator, small pump, some chain and links, my gels, hammer mix and a few tools. I water up, grab a few cytomax gels, geez they are awful, and roll out.
As I head onto this paved road section, I see Sparky. She yells at me, I yell back and she says something about taking a picture as I roll by. Since I am already passing her, she says she will get a picture of my backside. I am thinking yeah, that is what you want. Not. I think I get my first colored zip tie about now. I am rolling along on this section and come along side a youngster on a Karate Monkey, ss style. I make some small talk with him. He says he is from Plano and he is wearing a Baylor jersey. I ask him if he is "bui" from the Dorba forum and he says he is. He is rolling along at a good clip. He says that ICU is behind us somewhere. I ask him where racer99/Steve is and he tells me in front of us a few minutes. I tell him that he never passed me after I passed him at the start. Bui then says racer99 did not pit at the aid station. I end up leaving bui behind on this section, which I am guessing was 5 or 6 miles long. If my memory serves me, we turn onto another dirt road section for a bit, and then enter the single track again. Somehow, bui caught me and entered the singletrack ahead of me. Damn young'uns on those one geared big wheeled bikes.
I think we are now entering Blowout Mountain territory. I am feeling really good and strong, but my measuring stick is kinda low. Been eating and drinking on schedule, no wrecks or bike mishaps. After about 20 minutes or so, I am riding with a couple other dudes and we are making decent time. My goal going in was 6 hours and I feel I am right on schedule and I am now around the 2.5 hour mark, if I remember. Who knows, I coulda been way optimistic in my goal, but I felt I was on track. I then see bui coasting back down the trail towards me on his bike. I ask him what's up, and he says he needs a chain. I assume that he has lost his chain on a downhill and could not find it. I am thinking dang, in almost 3 years, I have never broken a chain on a ss. Geared bikes yes, singleton's no. I am not carrying a chain, only some 9 speed links. Anywho, bui continues in his direction and I continue on mine. I end up riding by myself for the next 20 or 30 minutes or so. I think I passed the couple dudes I was riding with but they could of ridden away from me, which is the more likely scenario. For those not in he know, Blowout Mountain has lots of short steep climbs and lots and lots and lots of rock gardens with lots and lots of rocks. Gosh, IDB, which is a rocky trail in the Dallas metromess area, on steroids. Those who know me, know I love IDB. Those who don't, the previous sentence is my lame attempt to be sarcastic.
Anywho, I am still feeling good, hardly winded or tired. I am riding some of the rock gardens and dismounting for some. On about the 20th dismount, I am pushing my bike thru one of the rock gardens and I hear the always pleasant sound of air rushing out of my rear tire and then see stans sealant blowing out and the tire goes flat, instantly. I cut my tire pushing thru a rock garden. What are the odds? Man, this is why I love IDB and rocks. I get my bike out of the rock garden, inspect the rear tire, and see I have a cut in the sidewall that is about 3/4 of an inch on my tubeless 29'er tire setup. I get my rear wheel off, get my camel off and go to work. I get the tire off, dump most of the remaining sealant out and remove the stans strip. I get one side of the tire back on, put a tube in, take an empty cytomax gel pack out of my pocket and place it as make-shift boot inside the tire at the site of the cut. I get the tire aired up and all looks good. I get the wheel back on and ready to roll again. During this down time, which I guess to be 20 to 25 minutes, about 2o or so riders pass me, including ICU and hammer girl. Just about all offered assistance while I was working which I politely declined since I had everything I needed. Thanks to all who offered up. As if they will ever read this mess. I finally get rolling again. After 10 minutes or so, I start catching some of those who passed me. On one of the short descents, while trying to slow, I go into a rock garden "hot" and end up riding a nose wheelie about 10 or 15 feet thru the garden. How I did not endo and smash my melon on one of the Yugo sized rocks, I will never know. I finally make it thru Blowout Mountain and on to the next dirt road.
I pull up to the aid station, water up, eat some banana and some cytomax gu, yuck again. I hear a volunteer tell another rider that we have about 6 miles up Brushy Creek, I think that is the name, and then it is all road to the finish. As I pedal out, I see Solo chilling at the station. I yell at him and continue on. I ride the dirt road for a bit and then enter the single track again. I pedal on for about 15 minutes or so and then ask myself why did I not inspect my homemade tire boot at the last aid station. I decide that I probably should stop and inspect the boot. I find that the empty cytomax boot has slipped and the tube is visible thru the cut, and partially protruding. Not good. I again go to work on the rear wheel. Remove it. Let the air out. Un-seat the tire bead on the side of the wheel that the tire is cut on. I then un-wrap about 20 inches of duct tape that I had wrapped around my hand pump. I tear the strips into about 5 inch segments, press them all together. Place the duct tape, along with the cytomax pack, on the inside of the tire against the cut. Get the tire on, air it up and all looks good, for a second time. I get the wheel on and I am ready to pedal out again. During this stop, I spent another 20 minutes or so repairing the tire and getting passed by another 20 or so riders, many of whom offered up assistance and I politely declined, again.
I start rolling again and soon start catching some of the folks who passed me during my second mechanical. I am now stuck behind a group of about 10 riders who are stopping frequently to hike up steep sections of the trail. During one of these hikes, I hear someone behind me say rider up. I turn around and see jjay grinding up the steep climb that we are all walking. I think to myself that he is doing really well and me, not so well, since he was doing the 80 miler and myself the 60 miler. Jjay passes me and I tell him to "get it" or something along those lines. I tell the other guys in this group, including a 15 year old kid and his father, that jjay is doing the 80 miler and they all kinda freak out. I then tell them that he is a real bad ass and that we should not feel too terrible for him passing us. During the next 30 minutes or so that it takes me to get over Brushy Creek, about 4 or 5 more 80 milers pass me. I then make it out of the last single track and onto the final stretch of dirt road.
As I pull out onto the dirt road and hang a left, I am by myself. No sooner than I start pedaling, bui pulls up beside me. He tells me that he got a chain from Solo, I believe. I am amazed. This youngster on a singlespeed has caught me twice, passed me once going the right direction and once going the wrong direction, and now dead even with me with about 7 or 8 miles to go to the finish. Anywho, we take off and have some good down hill ahead of us. We talk for a bit and then, feeling like I am cheating, tell him I am going to cruise on and will see him in a bit. I then set my sights on about 3 riders that are about 5 or 6 hundred yards in front of me. I am bombing down the downhills and flying up some of the climbs. I then see that one of the riders is hammer girl, whom I had ridden with at the very beginning of the race. I finally catch her. I believe we pass one of the other riders and the other rider has ridden away. She and I ride side by side for a bit, I pull for a bit, she pulls for a bit. She tells me that her legs cannot take another climb. I probably pull away from her about a mile from the paved highway. I make it to the highway and the volunteer tells me I have about 1.5 miles to the finish. I turn left onto the highway and start rolling. I get passed by one dude who went by me like he had a rocket on his bike. I continue on for another few minutes and cross the finish line right at 7 hours.
All in all, a good day of riding. No wrecks, no body damage and felt really good at the end. Did I meet my 6 hour goal? No. Would I have met my 6 hour goal had I not cut a tire? Who knows. Did I enjoy the ride? You better know it.
Thanks for wasting your time,
Steven
My mom, who is retired and likes to travel to some of these torture events with me, is having a seat in the cafeteria where many folks are having their fill of the meal provided with the price of admission. I give mom my packet and make my way out to the finish line and bump into some familiar faces. I find Sparky, Cope, Ryan, Bgreen, all of the Chops, Purly and others that I am currently not remembering. I chat with all for a bit and then make my way back to the cafeteria for the meal. I grab a tray of spaghetti, some salad and a drink. Brad has a seat with me as well as Ferguson. We eat a little and talk a little. ICUJeremy and Racer99 come thru the cafeteria and I speak with them for a second. Solo comes down and has a seat for a moment. It is now time to get back to the lodge on Rich Mountain near Mena and get my stuff ready for Sunday.
On Sunday, I get up about 6:15 am, gather up a few things and head out to the car around 6:30 am where I find the fog so dense that I can only see about 100 feet. The lodge on Rich Mountain sits around 3000 feet elevation and it is about 14 miles from Mena. I take off down the mountain, a little faster than I probably should and now realize I need gas. It is about 54 miles to Oden, it is foggy, I need gas, and I have an hour and a half before the start. About halfway down the mountain, most of the fog lifts and I make it to Mena. I gas up and drive on. I make it to Oden about 7:30 am and it is around 48 degrees . I do the pre-ride bike ready, get dressed, which includes only a short sleeve jersey because that is all I packed, make it over to the starting line with about 5 minutes to go. I meet up with Chop. Icu is right in front of us. Further up in the crowd I see Coz. Cope, who rode the day before, walks over to us, says a bit, and heads off to get some video of the start, or so he says.
The race is off. About 200 of us head out of the parking lot with a truck leading the way, we make a left onto the road, go a couple hundred yards and make a right onto another two lane road. At this point I am in the back quarter of the field and the leaders and pace truck look to be three or four hundred yards in front of me. I ease to the far left of the road. Knowing that I am stone cold, my heart, lungs and legs, I am taking it easy since it takes me about 15 minutes or even longer, to get the diesel engine firing. We travel on the paved highway for what seems like 4 or 5 miles and then make a right turn onto a dirt road. By now, I am probably in the top 50 or so. I am riding in a group of about 10 riders, one of which is a female decked out in hammer gear. This rolling dirt road has the group of us see-sawing back in forth for some reason. A group of 3 or 4 singlespeeders, decked out in cute matching gear, pass, get in front of me and hammer girl, slow down, and then we pass them at the next hill. This idiotness continues for the about 4 miles or so until we enter the single track. About now, I am pretty much warmed up, or as much as a 42 year old body can be. I haven't even noticed the cool morning air.
Right away, the mud starts making its presence known. The trail is littered with muddy sections, some have standing water and some are just plain mud. A group of about 10 of us are making pretty good time, with me being near the back. This section of the trail, which I believe is the Womble, is considered by most to be some of the best riding on the entire course. But today, it is a muddy mess. This section, which is around 12 miles or so, has a minimum of 10 to 20 muddy spots per mile, and probably alot more. There is hardly any climbing, or rocks, to speak of, but has many small creek crossings. Within the first few miles, my feet are already soaked and my black bike is already splattered with mud. I make it out of the Womble with no problems and make it to the first aid station to refill my two bottles. I do have a camel on my back, but no drink in it. It is only packed with a couple tubes, co2 inflator, small pump, some chain and links, my gels, hammer mix and a few tools. I water up, grab a few cytomax gels, geez they are awful, and roll out.
As I head onto this paved road section, I see Sparky. She yells at me, I yell back and she says something about taking a picture as I roll by. Since I am already passing her, she says she will get a picture of my backside. I am thinking yeah, that is what you want. Not. I think I get my first colored zip tie about now. I am rolling along on this section and come along side a youngster on a Karate Monkey, ss style. I make some small talk with him. He says he is from Plano and he is wearing a Baylor jersey. I ask him if he is "bui" from the Dorba forum and he says he is. He is rolling along at a good clip. He says that ICU is behind us somewhere. I ask him where racer99/Steve is and he tells me in front of us a few minutes. I tell him that he never passed me after I passed him at the start. Bui then says racer99 did not pit at the aid station. I end up leaving bui behind on this section, which I am guessing was 5 or 6 miles long. If my memory serves me, we turn onto another dirt road section for a bit, and then enter the single track again. Somehow, bui caught me and entered the singletrack ahead of me. Damn young'uns on those one geared big wheeled bikes.
I think we are now entering Blowout Mountain territory. I am feeling really good and strong, but my measuring stick is kinda low. Been eating and drinking on schedule, no wrecks or bike mishaps. After about 20 minutes or so, I am riding with a couple other dudes and we are making decent time. My goal going in was 6 hours and I feel I am right on schedule and I am now around the 2.5 hour mark, if I remember. Who knows, I coulda been way optimistic in my goal, but I felt I was on track. I then see bui coasting back down the trail towards me on his bike. I ask him what's up, and he says he needs a chain. I assume that he has lost his chain on a downhill and could not find it. I am thinking dang, in almost 3 years, I have never broken a chain on a ss. Geared bikes yes, singleton's no. I am not carrying a chain, only some 9 speed links. Anywho, bui continues in his direction and I continue on mine. I end up riding by myself for the next 20 or 30 minutes or so. I think I passed the couple dudes I was riding with but they could of ridden away from me, which is the more likely scenario. For those not in he know, Blowout Mountain has lots of short steep climbs and lots and lots and lots of rock gardens with lots and lots of rocks. Gosh, IDB, which is a rocky trail in the Dallas metromess area, on steroids. Those who know me, know I love IDB. Those who don't, the previous sentence is my lame attempt to be sarcastic.
Anywho, I am still feeling good, hardly winded or tired. I am riding some of the rock gardens and dismounting for some. On about the 20th dismount, I am pushing my bike thru one of the rock gardens and I hear the always pleasant sound of air rushing out of my rear tire and then see stans sealant blowing out and the tire goes flat, instantly. I cut my tire pushing thru a rock garden. What are the odds? Man, this is why I love IDB and rocks. I get my bike out of the rock garden, inspect the rear tire, and see I have a cut in the sidewall that is about 3/4 of an inch on my tubeless 29'er tire setup. I get my rear wheel off, get my camel off and go to work. I get the tire off, dump most of the remaining sealant out and remove the stans strip. I get one side of the tire back on, put a tube in, take an empty cytomax gel pack out of my pocket and place it as make-shift boot inside the tire at the site of the cut. I get the tire aired up and all looks good. I get the wheel back on and ready to roll again. During this down time, which I guess to be 20 to 25 minutes, about 2o or so riders pass me, including ICU and hammer girl. Just about all offered assistance while I was working which I politely declined since I had everything I needed. Thanks to all who offered up. As if they will ever read this mess. I finally get rolling again. After 10 minutes or so, I start catching some of those who passed me. On one of the short descents, while trying to slow, I go into a rock garden "hot" and end up riding a nose wheelie about 10 or 15 feet thru the garden. How I did not endo and smash my melon on one of the Yugo sized rocks, I will never know. I finally make it thru Blowout Mountain and on to the next dirt road.
I pull up to the aid station, water up, eat some banana and some cytomax gu, yuck again. I hear a volunteer tell another rider that we have about 6 miles up Brushy Creek, I think that is the name, and then it is all road to the finish. As I pedal out, I see Solo chilling at the station. I yell at him and continue on. I ride the dirt road for a bit and then enter the single track again. I pedal on for about 15 minutes or so and then ask myself why did I not inspect my homemade tire boot at the last aid station. I decide that I probably should stop and inspect the boot. I find that the empty cytomax boot has slipped and the tube is visible thru the cut, and partially protruding. Not good. I again go to work on the rear wheel. Remove it. Let the air out. Un-seat the tire bead on the side of the wheel that the tire is cut on. I then un-wrap about 20 inches of duct tape that I had wrapped around my hand pump. I tear the strips into about 5 inch segments, press them all together. Place the duct tape, along with the cytomax pack, on the inside of the tire against the cut. Get the tire on, air it up and all looks good, for a second time. I get the wheel on and I am ready to pedal out again. During this stop, I spent another 20 minutes or so repairing the tire and getting passed by another 20 or so riders, many of whom offered up assistance and I politely declined, again.
I start rolling again and soon start catching some of the folks who passed me during my second mechanical. I am now stuck behind a group of about 10 riders who are stopping frequently to hike up steep sections of the trail. During one of these hikes, I hear someone behind me say rider up. I turn around and see jjay grinding up the steep climb that we are all walking. I think to myself that he is doing really well and me, not so well, since he was doing the 80 miler and myself the 60 miler. Jjay passes me and I tell him to "get it" or something along those lines. I tell the other guys in this group, including a 15 year old kid and his father, that jjay is doing the 80 miler and they all kinda freak out. I then tell them that he is a real bad ass and that we should not feel too terrible for him passing us. During the next 30 minutes or so that it takes me to get over Brushy Creek, about 4 or 5 more 80 milers pass me. I then make it out of the last single track and onto the final stretch of dirt road.
As I pull out onto the dirt road and hang a left, I am by myself. No sooner than I start pedaling, bui pulls up beside me. He tells me that he got a chain from Solo, I believe. I am amazed. This youngster on a singlespeed has caught me twice, passed me once going the right direction and once going the wrong direction, and now dead even with me with about 7 or 8 miles to go to the finish. Anywho, we take off and have some good down hill ahead of us. We talk for a bit and then, feeling like I am cheating, tell him I am going to cruise on and will see him in a bit. I then set my sights on about 3 riders that are about 5 or 6 hundred yards in front of me. I am bombing down the downhills and flying up some of the climbs. I then see that one of the riders is hammer girl, whom I had ridden with at the very beginning of the race. I finally catch her. I believe we pass one of the other riders and the other rider has ridden away. She and I ride side by side for a bit, I pull for a bit, she pulls for a bit. She tells me that her legs cannot take another climb. I probably pull away from her about a mile from the paved highway. I make it to the highway and the volunteer tells me I have about 1.5 miles to the finish. I turn left onto the highway and start rolling. I get passed by one dude who went by me like he had a rocket on his bike. I continue on for another few minutes and cross the finish line right at 7 hours.
All in all, a good day of riding. No wrecks, no body damage and felt really good at the end. Did I meet my 6 hour goal? No. Would I have met my 6 hour goal had I not cut a tire? Who knows. Did I enjoy the ride? You better know it.
Thanks for wasting your time,
Steven
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