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