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