6 Hours of Warrior Creek

I don't really know the sequence of events, but the end result was that my 6-hours of Warrior Creek was over before I ever completed a lap.

It was the best prepared I'd ever been for the 6-hour race.

Because of my late season injuries last year, I was on good form early this year having already done well in 2 previous 6-hour races.

I took off work Friday to prepare for Saturday's race.

I got extra sleep to ensure complete recovery.

All the graphs said I was peaking for a great performance.

I woke up 1/2 an hour before my alarm clock went off.  Checked my pulse: comfortably low.  Race ready.

I had meticuloudly gone over every nut and bolt on my bike.  Race ready.

At the start line, I was one of the first on the grid.  

I got a great start and immediately fell into a comfortably fast pace.  The trail was in excellent shape and I was rolling.  Flowing.  Smooth,  The weather was perfect.

I guess I hit my head somewhere after mile marker 5.  I don't remember much.  I hit something.  Someone landed on me.  My tire was flat and it hurt to stand on my left leg.  It's one of those crashes where you don't just hop back on your bike and put the hammer down before the soreness sets in.

The front tire was flat because the valve stem was broken.  I put a tube in at a not-too-rapid pace.  I waited for a place to fall in with the constantly-passing traffic.  But my left leg just couldn't pedal.  I was done.

I hiked the bike (slowly) from the trail to the road and spun lightly back to the pits, slowly and gently loaded everything up and headed home.  It's hard to DNF on a beautiful day, a beautiful race day.  A beautiful race day on some super fun trails.  It's going to be evn harder to spend the time off the bike to recover and heal.

But I will.

And I'll race again, Lord willing!

Thanks to all who offered their help today, it was greatly appreciated!!!

See you on the trails!  ...hopefully soon.

   

Love Valley Roubaix

Last year's inaugural Love Valley Roubaix would have been hard to describe without using the word "epic."  It was cold, rainy, cold, wet, cold and snowy.  Did I mention cold?  So it was with much anticipation that I waited in the upcoming days for the weather forecast for the March 23rd event.  The ten day weather forecast showed sunny and 70 degrees.  Joy!  But as race day approached it became apparent that this would be another wet, chilly race.

 

This year I changed my bike strategy.  I opted for a disc brake cyclocross bike instead of a road bike.  I stayed with the decision to run 25c tires, but I mounted them to some new American Classic Argent wheels that are considerably wider than traditional road rims, making the 25c Clement Strada tires measure 27.5c. 

 

On the start line it was dry but chilly for the 9:00am start.  I noticed a much larger turnout this year.  Perhaps because it wasn't raining.   ...yet.  But after the pre-race brief, while we were staged for the start in downtown Love Valley, the tell-tale rain drops began to fall.  I opted to take the rain jacket out of my jersey pocket and put it on.  A good move.

 

Something like 60% of the course is unpaved.  The steepest and punchiest climbs are these unpaved roads in and around love valley.  At first they are dry, even with the light rain that is falling.  And, at first the peloton is chatty and upbeat.  But the pace quickly picks up.  As the lead group shrinks, the peloton quiets, then becomes more of a grimace as the road surface becomes wet enough to cause rooster tails that soak first through shoes and socks then gloves and anything not completely sealed and waterproof.

 

I was dropped from the lead group early.  The fast, cold start was not to my liking.  The first big  climb up Brushy Mtn was more to my liking.  I caught and dropped several riders who had managed to hang onto the lead group longer than I had.  The cyclcocross gearing proved to be benefit for the climbing.  At this point I felt pretty good.  Almost comfortably riding a strong, sustainable pace.  But the rain picked up near the top of the climb and I began to get very cold.  I knew I was in for a chilly descent.

 

By the time the road surface turns to pavement and levels out it is raining hard enough that the rain drops actually start to hurt at the speeds we are now able to go.  I know the descent well.  My plan is to get down it as fast as possible so I can warm up on the next climb.  I was spun-out with the cyclocross gearing.  Even so I was able to catch and pass another rider who had passed me earlier. 

 

The rain slowed for the flat section along Hwy 115 to the aid station at mile 30 where there were several riders already calling it quits out of coldness or from mechanicals caused by the miles of grit from wet dirt  roads.  I still had brakes, but I had certainly used up a bunch of pad.  I had cable adjusters I could use to advance the pads if I had to, but, being a new bike I wasn't used to adjusting them and I wasn't sure I was thinking clearly enough to adjust them the right way.  So rather than taking the chance on making things worse I just decide to manage my brake usage and hope they lasted until the end. 

 

The final big climb is paved, but steep and relentless.  I'm so cold at this point that my jaw is soar from shivering.  My entire body complains when I get of the saddle on the steepest portions, but the extra motion seems to help keep blood circulating.  The slow climbing pace means the miles are ticking by slowly.  I start to get impatient - just wishing it would all end.  But the occasional rider I catch and pass reminds me that there are many racers that will be suffering more than me:  those not dressed appropriately and those simply taking longer to finish.  I press on knowing that the quickest way to get warm at this point is to ride to the finish as fast as possible.

 

When I got to the short, punchy climbs back at Love Valley the unpaved roads were now very soft which meant more rolling resistance and a bit more treacherous descending.  I stayed off the brakes as much as possible.  But I completely ran out of rear brakes.  After a couple of corners taken with the brake levers held all the way against the bars I decided to check the elevation profile on my Garmin to see how many more descents there were.  Fortunately, on the last few descents I could see far enough ahead that there were no impending dangers and I could just let it roll.  Which I did.  Eventually rolling through the finish at 3:01.  Narrowly missing my fair weather goal time of 3:00.  Still, I finished 7th in my class. 

 

I had to dismount my brake-less bike to go down the hill to where my car was parked.  I guess I had just enough brakes after all.  It was an epic day and one of those races where you are proud to say you completed.

 

See you on the trails!

 

The Green Gobbler 6 Hour SEC Race

The Green Gobbler was round 2 in the 6-Hour Southeastern Endurance Cup Series.  I plan to race enough of the series to compete for over-all awards at the end year.  Having won my class in round 1 at Taco Stand my hopes were high for a good result.

The course was an 8.5 mile loop mapped out on the Steeple chase side of the Georgia International Horse Park in Conyers, GA - site of the '96 Olympic MTB race.  I was only vaguely familiar with the area from a previous trip to the Southeast Bike Expo.  So, like my previous SEC race, lap one would double as a recon lap.

The SEC races are well organized, so we rolled off en masse as scheduled at 10:00am.  The start took us through an open field before entering the pit area and start/finish timing loop.  This was followed by a bit of twisting around more open field, cyclocross-style into the single track.  It was wide enough for passing and I got a good start.

The trail was in great shape.  I used the same set-up as I had at the last SEC race and it proved to be a good choice.  The AKA's multiple small knobs dig into the surface through the pine needles but still roll well and took the roots in stride.

There were 2 fast downhills that ended their descent with a rocky stream crossing, followed by a climb.  The temptation was to blast down the hill to keep momentum up for the climb, but the rocky creek crossing looked like a good place to flat, so after the first time of bouncing off the rim, I backed the pace off a bit.

There were 3 climbs to mix-up the twisty and open sections.  One was steep and narrow and twisted around some small trees.  It wasn't too technical, and could be taken in the big ring but it was a potential place to be held up by slower climbers.  The next climb was on a horse trail.  It was similarly short and steep, although more open.  With some cooperation, there were passing opportunities.  The surface was soft and bumpy from horse travel which made wheel placement critical.

The biggest climb was pretty much straight uphill.  It was wide enough for passing with only a few technical sections.  There was plenty of grip, but because of the steepness it was necessary to remain seated and keep the front of the bike weight-ed.  I took it in the big ring the first couple of laps (at a very low cadence) but when my chain dropped to the smaller ring at the beginning of the climb on lap 3  - it worked out so well that I made that my standard procedure.

Overall, the course was quite fast.  My lap times were about 40 minutes.  Which is good for fueling, because it's never too long until the next opportunity to stop.  It does mean more lapped traffic, however.  I start to notice a pattern.  Each time I go through the pit area and start another lap it's not long before someone, presumably racing a duo, passes me and gets away.  For a while.  By the time we get near the end of the lap where the toughest climbs are I've managed to catch them and pass them back.  I figure my pace must be pretty good if I'm rivaling the teams as a solo rider.  However, as a solo rider I have no-one to tell me what place I'm in.

Normally, I plan to pit every 2nd lap, but with the shorter laps I decide to pit after lap 3 and 6.  Which was a good plan, but fatigue has it's effect on math....

The SEC series only counts laps that are completed within the 6-hour time limit.  There is no cut-off time to start the last lap.  So, my inability to do math well (i.e. count to 8) results in a less then optimal strategy.  By lap 4, I've convinced myself that I will only be doing 7 laps.  My strategy is to focus on doing a smooth, flowing lap on lap 5, then focus on doing a "power lap" on lap 6 - making an effort to pedal at every opportunity - as soon as possible on corner exit and staying on top of the gears on descents.  Then, for my "final" lap, on lap 7, I would just use whatever I had left to get to the finish, fueled by adrenaline and the caffeinated gel I have been saving in my jersey pocket for that final lap.

It was all going as planned until I realized that I would finish lap 7 at about the 5:00 mark.  Plenty of time for yet another final lap.  So I had another opportunity to play the mind games that are so important to finishing strong in endurance events.  I guess I was really fatigued because my brain fell for the usual tricks I had just gone through by telling it: "OK, this is the last time across the stream", "Just two more climbs", "This is the last time through this section", etc...

In the end, it all worked out well.  I was a little apprehensive about checking the results, but after some recovering and cleaning up a bit, the suspense overwhelmed and I checked the most recently posted results.  A very satisfying way to end the day - at the top of the podium after a hard days' work.

See you on the trails!

Tom Dula's Revenge

Last year I did the inaugural Tom Dula event the day following a 100 mile MTB event, so I was looking for a much better result this year.  Of all the roubaix-style races that I do, however, this one suits me the least.  To be sure, it is a well run event and a fun course that is great fun to ride, it just doesn't play to my strengths.

I did show up prepared for battle, none-the-less.  I had a brand new Grava bike, weighing in under 17lbs. with American Classic Argent wheels and 25c Clement Strada tires.  I had the profile of the course taped to my top tube with all of the unpaved sections highlighted.  I did a proper warm-up, knowing that I would really need to push my limits to stay with the lead group at the start.

The race started promptly at 10:00am from the Leatherwoods Mountain Resort under cool, windy conditions but sunny skies.  As expected, the lead group formed rapidly after the neutral roll out.  The peloton would stay together until the first uphill pave section where gaps started to open up.  I jumped across all the gaps and came across the end of sector 1 still in the lead group.  More of the same came at the next sector.  Again, I bridge all the gaps and emerge with the lead group at the end of the 2nd sector.

I'm not a big rider - I don't generate a lot of power.  I am more of an endurance racer with pretty fair power to weight ratio.  It's not of much use on the recurring surges that keep happening in between the climbs.  It becomes harder and harder for me to close the gaps.  I know that the longer I stay with the pack, the better my result will be.  My goal is to hang on through 1/2 way.

After sector three, I am still hanging in the somewhat reduced peloton.  I start to think I can hang on until the finish.  But after several surges between sector 3 and 4, I know that I am riding on borrowed time unless the peloton slows on the longer, uphill sector 4.

They don't.

I am gapped.

But not by a lot.  I try hard to catch back on.  To no avail.  Following sector 4 is some fast paved riding.  As a solo rider, I have no chance of keeping pace with a motivated group of riders.  Still, I enjoy riding my pace.  I keep the hammer down and the peloton in sight for the next 4 or 5 miles.  I never would regain contact.

I did catch one other racer who dropped out of the lead group.  We worked together through sectors 5 and 6 and the steep pave climb and descent leading to the final 4 miles of unpaved climbing.  We were still together at the first stream crossing.  The water was concerningly deep to ride, with some pretty large rocks under the water, but I had no intention of hiking.  I clear it, but I don't think my riding partner did.  I never looked back, but I didn't hear from him again.

The course gets increasingly rough, though not very steep yet.  Two more stream crossings follow.  Neither as deep or wide as the first one.  But now the course turns increasingly uphill.  I struggle to find a rideable path through the soft muddy sections, the washed-out ruts and the loose gravelly sections.  It's a challenge, but it's all rideable.

Soon the 2km to go sign appears, which would normally mean the race is almost over.  However, at slightly-faster-than-walking pace there was still plenty of technical climbing to do.  The course does become a bit less technical near the top, but remains steep.

With 1 km to go, I have 2 riders in sight.  It doesn't look like there will be time to catch them, but with 200M to go they are noticeably closer.  I use what energy I have left to try to "sprint" out the final distance.  But there is nothing extra left.  I roll across the line with a time of 2:32 - nearly 30 minutes faster than my time from last year, but only 1 position better (6th this year).  A testimony to the increased competition level this year.

It was another hard fought day where I was really looking for a top 5 finish.  Still, I was pleased with my effort and look forward to the next 2 events in "Le Series Trois Roubaix": Love Valley and Boone-Roubaix in the next few weeks.

See you on the trails! 

The Knot Southern Classic Series Race

For the past three years the Maxxis Southern Classic Series has started the season in beautiful Poinsett Park, just outside of Sumter, SC.  It's one of the longer cross country races of the season which is good for me because I'm usually hard at work on my endurance training early on.  This year it was even longer.  Additional singletrack had been built to replace most of the long fire road featured in the previous editions of what had been called The Killer 3 race.

I was warned at registration that I may not finish my Single Speed race before my CAT 1 race started an hour and a half later.  I must say, that news simplified my strategy.  I planned to go full gas in the SS race from the gun to try to make the start of my 2nd race.

I got a really good start (for me) - getting into the singletrack 3rd.  The pace started out pretty high.  After spending yesterday road racing, it was taking me a while to really get the flow on the SS.  I decided to follow along behind the other 2 racers.  However, the leader chose to let us by.  Now, riding 2nd, I'm starting to get a rhythm.  The trail is tight and twisty, but not stop-and-go tight but quite flowing.  Much of the surface is loose and off camber, keeping me on my toes.  When the leader slides the front wheel and off course I blast by and decide it's time to hammer.

The trail is mixture of short climbs and twisty corners that really suit my bike set-up and style of riding.  I never looked back.  I kept the hammer down.  Pedaling my guts out on the occasional long straight(ish) sections and rolling the corners.  Standing to hammer out of the tight corners to keep the pace high.

The second (and final) lap went even better.  Knowing what to expect from the course I know how hard I can push the limits.  I remind myself to flow.  Rolling the corners to keep the pace high.  Single speed racing is more about not losing speed than it is about trying to go faster.

I drilled the final fire road section to the finish.  There was no time to celebrate my victory though, the CAT 1 racers were already rolling off.  I rode back to my car, hopped on my geared bike, restocked my jersey pockets, grabbed some water bottles, my bike computer a gel and a Hammer bar and headed to the start.  My age group had just rolled by.  Fortunately I hadn't given them too much of a head start.

I was completely gassed from hammering out 2 laps on SS.  My plan was to finish all 3 laps of the CAT 1 race, but if I was going to be last and be in the way I would stop at 2 laps.

I finished all 3 laps.

The first part of the lap has the most climbing.  I was certainly suffering.  But when I got into the flatter, twisty sections I recovered pretty well.  I defaulted to a sort of high 6-hour endurance pace.  Being careful not to push too hard, but making sure to be pedaling at least endurance pace as much as possible.

By now I know the course pretty well.  I start reeling other racers in.  It's obvious that not all of them are from my class, but having missed the start line-up I wasn't really sure who was in my class, or even how many.

I kept my focus on being smooth and flowy, always mindful to keep the pace up.  I kept passing riders through all 3 laps.  Most of the time there was someone in the distance to try to reel in - helping me to go hard.

When it was all over, I was pleasantly surprised to check the results and find that I had finished 4th in the CAT 1 40+ field.  It was a fun course and a heck of a workout!  A fine way to cap off a weekend of racing.

The race was run really well with park rangers at the road crossing controlling traffic and helping with parking.  The course was in great shape and well marked.  There is plenty of supporting crowds around the course, too.  It's really cool to see the spectators really get into it and help keep the motivation high to keep digging.

It was great to see all my MTB friends again!  It seems like a long, long time since I've been to a proper cross country MTB race.

See you on the trails!   

Greenville Spring Training Series - River Falls Road Race

It might seem odd for an endurance mountain bike specialist to be doing short road races, and I rather suppose it is, but there were several reasons to do it. 

1)  Historically, I've always managed to race at least one of these Greenville Spring Training Series Races.  It's really where I got my start racing 5 or 6 years ago. 

2) It can be great training.

3) I wanted to.  Maybe just to complete my comeback from injury - just to be sure I felt comfortable in a motivated pack of experienced riders, or maybe just because I watched too many YouTube road races videos during all my training indoors since August.

This year worked out to where the one race of the 8-race series that fit my schedule was the shortest road race (bad), but had a significant uphill finish (good).

I hadn't been doing any handle bar to handle bar riding in a long time, but I knew enough to start near the front.  I was racing masters 40+.  Masters is not like category racing.  The masters racers usually have teams - and therefore, team tactics.  The pace starts out hard until there is a break.  Often, riders are dropped off the back never to see the peloton again on these early surges of the race.  I didn't want to be that guy.  I very nearly was.

The first lap was hard.  For a little while.  From what I could tell, Three riders eventually went off the  front.  The rest of the pack then slowed.  In fact, we slowed so much that racers in the rear were yelling to pick up the pace.  Apparently there was some concern that the women's field that startted a few minutes behind us would catch us.

The laps are short at River Falls.  Less that 6 miles.  When we hit the one big climb of the course, the shouters got their wish:  The peloton went full gas.  Now, I'm a pretty small guy compared to most of the field.  I don't have the big power of the bigger riders, but I do go uphill pretty well.  But this hill wasn't long enough to wreak havoc on the big guys and when they went full gas, I was not ready for that kind of effort.  They pulled a gap on me (and others) over the top and pulled away on the descent that follows immediately after cresting the climb.

There was no way I was getting dropped on lap #1.  I gave chase.  Eventually three of us grouped together.  I was doing the lion's share of the work, but I wasn't going to make it on my own.  One of the rider's says, "that's it.  We're done."  I had other plans.  I kept digging.  And somehow we caught back on.  I recovered as much as I could, as the 2nd time up the hill was about to begin...

I felt like, no matter what happened up the hill this time, I had already done my best to hang to the peloton as long as I could.  But this time we hit the climb at a pace that suited me.  Plus, this time I was ready for it.  To my surprise, I made it up the hill much better than most of the competition.

The next few laps went by quite rapidly with some surges here and there, but a pace I could sustain.  Until lap 5.  On lap five we hit it the climb pretty hard.  I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but the group I was in got separated a bit and we had to chase back on (again).  I was pretty gassed for the penultimate climb.  Apparently, so was everyone else because we eased up it to get the bell lap.

On the final lap there were more surges, but I stayed didligent and always managed to stay in contact.  By now we are catching groups of dropped women and masters riders.  In fact, the closer we get to the finish, the more we seem to catch.  For the last run up the climb we had to pass a large group of riders, and while we were doing that, at least one of the women riders was keeping pace with us, shouting at everyone to "keep right".  It was rather chaotic.  I lost some momentum a few times, getting trapped behind other riders, but I fared pretty well.

In the end it turns out that 6 riders were ahead of our group.  I ended up 12th, so I feel like I fared pretty well in the peloton and overall, especially with the extra chasing I had to do.  It was a hard day, but certainly good training for me to be forced to ride a pace well out of my comfort zone.  Sort of a stepping out of the boat experience.

Tomorrow's another day.  A moutain bike day.

See you on the trails!

Southern Cross

The first race in the Ultra Cross series, Southern Cross was my first goal event of the season.  It was my 3rd attempt.  I finished 6th on a 29'er MTB 2 years ago.  Last year I raced a CX bike, missed a turn on the final long descent and added some extra mileage.  This year I was back again on a CX bike.  The competition has ratcheted up a couple of notches over the last couple of years, so my optimistic goal was a top 5 in 40+ but realistically I was just looking at seeing where my early season form was and just pushing as hard as I could.

The weather turned out to be pretty good.  A little chilly at the start, but nothing like last years freeze.  I got a reasonably good starting position (for me).  The tall grass and soft ground on the winery grounds at the start made for some difficult going early on.  I lost a few spots by those more ambitious on the first big run-up than me.  By the time we got to the road my legs were already burning, but it's crucial to be in a good drafting pack early and then sort it out on the climb.

I had been riding the .GPX course file of the course on my CompuTrainer, so I knew when and how long the first climb would be.  I think I paced myself pretty well because of those that passed me early in the climb, I was able to reel them all in and a grab a few more spots before the 1st aid station at the top at mile 12.5.

A few more short, steep climbs and descents followed before a long descent leading onto a road section.  Somehow I managed to hit the road solo, so I had to do all the work myself instead of sharing the work with drafting partners.

There are a few more short steep climbs before we turn onto a road that follows a creek on a steady incline that suits my climbing style perfectly.  It's a joy to be outside with great weather, great terrain, pedaling up a mountain.  Other riders are few and far between, but I do manage to pick a few spots before the aid station at mile 32.

Next up:  Super fast, rough road descending.  It's a bit technical, but most of all, it is a bit of crap shoot wondering how fast I can rocket down the mountain bouncing off of rocks without flatting.  I played it reasonably conservative, losing a little ground to some MTB's, but pleased that I got to the bottom with no flats, no issues.

I pop out onto the road, solo again, for the 5 or so miles back to the winery.  We enter the winery on a narrow, paved undulating road, but the real difficult section starts with a giant run-up and doesn't end until the finish line.  Two miles of suffering through soft ground, tall grass, off-camber sections, more run-ups, a log crossing, 2 creek crossings and the accumulation of 49 previous miles of fatigue.  But it does finally end.  The extra struggling at the end adds to the satisfaction of mission accomplishment.  I crossed the line in about 3:20.  Good for 7th in 40+ and 25 minutes faster than I was last year.

A good start to the season.

See you on the trails!

Taco Stand Classic 6-Hour SEC

I had been wanting to do a Chain Buster's Productions SEC race for a while because it looked like a fun, well-run series that I could do well at on venues that were (mostly) within a reasonable driving distance.  I didn't get a chance to race any of them last year.  However, I was pleasantly surpised when the 2014 race schedule was released and many of the 6-hour race dates fit into my training plans (mostly).

I had never been to Tribble Mill Park in Lawrenceville, GA - the site of Saturday's Taco Stand Classic, and it looked like I might miss it again when initial weather forecasts were for rain/snow showers.  Fortunately, as race day drew closer, the forecast was updated to rain and then to possible rain, then to just morning showers.  At the last minute, I decided to take the chance and headed to the race.

The delay to commit to the race meant leaving at 4:00am on race day to make the 9:00am registration deadline.  Which I did.  As I drove, the temperatures warmed ever-so-slightly.  By the 10:00am start time conditions were cool and a bit overcast with the sun occassionally peeking thru the clouds and no rain in sight.

I had no idea what the trail would be like (other than a few brief Youtube videos).  I took a conservative starting position for the mass start.  As we left the pit loop and entered the woods for lap one, I quickly realized that hadn't been a great move.  The trail was tight and twisty with very few overtaking opportunities.  I kept waiting for the trail to open up, but it never did. 

I started calling off my passes and began working my way forward rider by rider.  There were 3 or 4 fairly significant climbs that were moderatley technical because most of the trail was covered in pin needles.  They were all doable in the big-big ring which is my favorite kind of climb.  I had also managed to make a pretty good guess at the tire selection, too because they were working well.  By the end of the first 9 mile lap I was really starting to get the trail figured out.  The familiar flow of racing my bike in the woods was coming back again.

I blew through my pits at the end of the lap and headed into the woods for lap two.  By now I had moved up enough, and the field had strung out enough that I was catching riders individually instead of in groups, making passing much simpler.  I am a lot more at ease when riding my own pace.  No distractions in front and no pressure from the rear.

About a third of the way through the lap I managed to pedal-strike what was probably the only rock on the trail.  It damaged my pedal so badly that there was no way I could clip in.  In fact, it was difficult to keep my foot from sliding off.  Not being able to weight the left pedal made for a very stressful lap #2.  All the years of poor form and sitting while cornering paid off I guess, because I made it back to the pits without incident.  Just a bit of time lost. 

I rode to my car and picked up my spare pedals, then rode to my pits where my toolbox was, changed the pedal and headed out for lap #3.  I felt like a hero after the way I had been riding.  I could rail the corners again and pedal without having to constantly readjust my foot.  With no one in the pits to check timing and scoring for me, I had no idea how much time I had lost or what position I was in.  I actually felt like the pressure was off for a good result now.  I just focused on being smooth and good pacing and nutrition technique.

I made my 2nd (and last) stop in the pits at the end of lap #4.  By now it was obvious that I would only be able to complete 6 laps in the 6 hour time limit.  I decided to make the most of it: To enjoy the trail and to keep the pace high.  ...and to catch and pass anyone I saw on the trail.  It was still a race, after all.

By the final lap I was starting to feel a bit fatigued, but there is something satisfying about completeing that last lap.  Every obstacle overcome, every hill climbed, I think to myself, "this is the last time I have to make this climb".  By now I know the trail well, I know which parts of the trail to expend extra energy to make time and where to just be smooth and stay off the brakes.  It's a good feeling. 

As I circled around the pits for one last time I allowed myself to wonder what position I was in.  I rode a strong pace and no one had passed me while I was on the trail but I was unsure if there had been anyone in my class up ahead that I never caught sight of.

I crossed the finish line and turned in my timing chip.  No fanfare.  Just a bunch of fellow racers and their support teams happy to see the end of a long race. 

I casually changed and gathered up all the pit equipment and water bottles, etc that I had scattered around throughout the race before allowing myself to check the results.  I'm not sure if I was surprised or relieved to see my name at the top of the Solo Masters results, but I was pleased.  It was a long day.  It sure is good to be back racing my bike in the woods!

See you on the trails!

Wilkes 100K

Wilkes 100k

When I crashed on a recovery ride in August and broke my collar bone in 2 places, the doctor told me it would be completely healed in 10 weeks. 

It was. 

In 10 weeks and 4 days it was broken again. .

At least I was racing when I crashed this time. It's gotta be more cool to crash in a deep single speed field running 3rd in the first nccx race of the season than to hit a dog on a recovery ride, right?  Still, broken is broken.  Sidelined again.  More time off bike. 

So, no Wilkes 100K for me.  My cyclocross season is pretty much shot. I'm able to ride on a trainer tho, so it shouldn't be too much of a fitness hit. 

I do plan to do Waffles by Donation at the North Mecklenburg Tuesday night training races in November.  I won't be racing, so I'll have more time to visit with folks. Stop by to chat and eat some waffles for a great cause!

See you on the trails ...in 2014. 

Wilson's Revenge

After last weeks 3 stages of flat terrain it was good to get back in the Mountains of Pisgah in the Wilson's Creek area for the "53 miles of terror" of Wilson's Revenge.

We all rolled off together, mass start style, at 9:00am on a beautiful North Carolina morning.  The first few miles were reminiscent of last weekend.  The start was only a small incline and the lead pack stayed together as the asphalt quickly turned to gravel then began to turn upward.  We all draft together.  There is no big push immediately.  The road is wide and the big dogs are up front controlling the pace.  As we progress the chit-chat dies down.  The pace intensifies.  Gaps take longer to close.  I make sure to position myself behind attentive riders.  If they let a gap open, I go around them.  My plan is to  stay with the lead pack as long as reasonably possible.

By the time the climb starts in earnest, the pack is down to about 15 riders.  Some are on borrowed time.  One by one riders pop off the back.  Some gradually, some more spectacularly.  When the pack was down to 8 riders it was my turn to pop.  Mile 12.  The pack slowly drifts away.  I consider drilling it to try to catch back on, but a glance at the profile taped to my top tube reveals quite a bit of this climb remains.  I decide to follow a more appropriate pacing strategy and climb at my pace, hoping to catch back on at the rest area or on the descent.  Two more riders would catch and pass me on the climb(teammates?), putting me in 10th place overall.

It didn't take long to get to the first aid station at mile 14 or so.  I blow through.  As expected, none of the lead riders had stopped.  The climb continues.  The first part of the course has the majority of the climbing.  Beyond this, the course is mostly made up of roughly similar-sized up and down rollers that make it difficult to see what's coming up by looking at the profile.  So I ride up and down the rollers.  It's really rather fun.  Climb for a while.  Descend for a while.  Jump on the pedals out of the corners to keep the speed up on the next climb.  Simple.

There was one particularly steep section.  I managed to ride most of it.  It was probably the most technical section of the day.  The technical part was going well.  But it ended up being too steep for me to keep the pedals turning over.  So, rather then falling over, I dismount and hike to the top.  Using the time off-bike to eat a gel and drink some fluids.

The scenery is great.  I haven't seen any bikes in some time, though.  Only the occasional Fishermen early on, then later, pick-up trucks with dog cages in the back (bear hunters?).  At one point I saw a pick-up truck a bit too close.  I rounded a left-hand corner while descending and there he was.  Both of us were in the center of the road.  It wasn't going to work out well if we stayed that way, so I swerved right which pointed me toward a rather steep drop off.  I managed to get my left leg out and slide the bike around the corner, clip back in and hammer on.  I kept my head through the ordeal, which is why it worked out OK, but from that point on I was a lot more cautious around blind corners (which was most of them).

Some time after mile 33.15 my Garmin locked up.  I happened to notice it after seeing a racer hike his bike toward me - presumably headed back to aid #2 at mile 31.  He had double flatted.  I was going to give him the distance back when I realized my mile reading was exactly what it read last time I had checked it.  I manged to re-set it, but now I wasn't sure what mile I was really at.  I did know from earlier calculations that I should be able to finish in 3:40.  Since we started promptly at 9:00 am, my goal finish time would be 12:40.

But all of this takes away some of my focus.  Resetting, recalculating, plus, at this stage of the race there is quite a bit of descending.  And while the gravel is a little loose, it's the washboard bumps before some of the corners that cause me to slow more than I really need to (usually).  That, and the fear of what's going to be around the next corner.  I feel like I'm not pushing myself.  I occasionally look back.  But there is no one there.

I pass a rider with their bike upside down changing a flat.  So, now I'm 8th overall and it motivates me to push hard every chance I get.  I'm still not exactly sure how accurate my finish time and distance calculations are, but now I am resolved to push to the finish.

When I get to the paved road I know the finish is near and I time trial back to the start/finish.  I didn't catch anyone else, but I did cross the line at 3:39.  So, mission accomplished.  It would have been nice to ride with the lead group a bit longer, but I wasn't far behind them.  I would be scored 4th in the 40+ category.

I ride bikes.
It's not who I am.
It's what I do.
Lord, help me do it well.

See you on the trails!

Hellhole Gravel Gravel Grind Stage Two

Stage Two was more of the same as Stage One with the addition of about 7 miles of single track.  I was 30 seconds off the podium for GC at the start of the day.  My only hope to gain time today was if at least one of the three riders in front of me was more fatigued than me.  My plan was to get in the lead group and stay there safely conserving energy until about 5 miles to go and then drilling it.  Of course, if an opportunity presented itself to bridge to an attacking group, I was open to that, too.  I didn't have anything to lose if my strategy didn't pan out.  And it didn't.

Without yesterday's One-day racers and with the fatigue from yesterday, the pace started out a little easier.  I was able to hang on from the start with no fear of being dropped.  The single track section came early.  I was in pretty good position entering the trail.  It wasn't really what I was used to as far as MTB trails go.  The surrounding terrain dictated that it would be flat.  So no climbs to suffer on and no descents to bomb.  Just a lot of pine needles and some tree roots.  On a CX bike the pace seemed to be limited more by the beating one is willing to take than by skills or fitness.

Normally this would not have been a problem, but already having sore spots, I resolved to just suffer through the best I could.  When we reached the end, I was happy to be through with all the air in my tires and to be safely in the peloton that quickly reformed when we hit the open road.

From here it was more gravel road and double track.  The roads were mostly smoother today then yesterday (or maybe I'm just used to it by now?).  There are about 5 of us pace lining with about 5-8 more skipping their turns to lead-out.  We dropped a few riders, but the pace didn't feel very hard.  I want to up the pace, but there is nothing to gain by doing so yet.  So I wait in the group, taking my turn pulling at the front.

Somewhere after mile 30, nobody really wants to work anymore.  The pace slows and I know it's just a matter of time before someone takes off.  I stay attentive.

And then it happens, the leader in my class, who is also my coach, puts in a big dig to get off the front.  No one wants to chase.  I do, but I'm not sure if I should.  I don't really want to do all the work just to bring the pack back together.  I know I can't beat him, and maybe can't  even catch him.  I decide the best plan is to let him get a gap and then to try to solo across.

So, I waited a few moments and then hit the gas.  But I didn't have enough gas to get away.  I pulled hard and was closing the gap.  But, when I looked back, all my main competitors were right there with me.  Although, it did look like they were struggling.  I decide to fall in line and see if they kept the pace up.  They didn't, and now we were on some double track with tall grass on either side and in the center, making it difficult to see the potholes, rocks and branches in the road.

I was having a hard time riding behind the rider in front of me, so I switch sides of the double track to follow a  rider I had followed so successfully yesterday.  Unfortunately, right after I did, he bunny hopped a pothole that I didn't see, resulting in me hitting it full force and flatting my front tire.

I pulled off to the side to fix the flat while the group pace-lined off into the distance.  It was hard to get the motivation up to change it in a hurry, knowing all GC podium hopes were now gone.  Still, the repair went well, and pretty soon I was back on my bike.  Common sense said there was no need to go hard at this point.  It would be better to wait for another group.  Common Sense said it would be better to save my legs for another day.

I didn't listen.

I used my power meter to gauge my effort.  I rode at the watts that I was pulling when I was taking my turn leading the paceline - hoping they would back off the pace like they had done previously.  I keep looking ahead, looking for a rider to catch.  And then, in the distance, I see the white jersey of a rider that I had been reeling in with the group before I flatted.  Perhaps he was holding on to the rear of the group, I hoped.  But as I closed in, it was apparent he was still solo.

It was probably 10 miles from where I flatted before I caught him, and when I did he didn't want to (or couldn't) help with the pace.  So I tow him along.  For miles.  Eventually we catch and drop another rider, then finally we catch a 3rd rider.  This one hangs on, but he didn't want to (or couldn't) help with the pace either.  So now I am leading 2 other riders to the finish.

At 6 miles to go I gradually up the pace.  By now my passengers are struggling to keep up.  At 5.5 miles I lift the pace again.  I don't look back.  At about 5 miles to go I am on the road that leads back to the finish line and I hit the gas as hard as I can, not sure if I can maintain it to the end, but darn sure going to try.  When I get to the section of road that was marked from Friday nights ITT, I know that I have 1.8 miles to the finish.  I know I can make it from here.  I keep up my hard, steady pace to the finish.  My legs ache but they manage to keep the pace to the finish line.

I would come in at about 3:31 for the 66 mile day today.  Fifth place in 40+.  About 3 minutes behind the group I was with when I flatted.  Not too bad for a 31 mile solo effort - but it didn't gain me any positions.

I wouldn't have ridden it any other way.

See you on the trails!

Hellhole Gravel Grind Stage Race: Stage 1

The good thing about today's stage was that the course was so flat that there was no need to tape an elevation profile to the top tube.  The bad thing about today's stage was that the course was so flat there was no need to tape an elevation profile to the top tube.

We all started from the Witherbee Ranger Station in Francis Marion State Forest in one mass start.  The opening pace was hard as the lead group of riders try to reduce their numbers.  With no climbs or no major technical sections to split the field, this was going to be a drafting race.

I hung on as long as I could, but found myself drifting away from the lead group.  I ended up in a fast chase group of about 5 riders.  Then 4.  Then 3.  The 3 of us would pace-line to the finish.

I had the .GPX course loaded into my Garmin 810 so I was notified of corners before we got to them.  Even so, the course was well marked.  Although I had to wonder why some of these roads were even built.  They seemed to exist only to take you to another road that only existed to take you to another road... Never really passing any meainingful landmarks and precious few residences.

I will say that the gravel road surface was mostly a pleasure to ride on.  For the most part it was well-packed double track.  There were a few sections of overgrown, really rough sections but these were short.

Our 3 man pace-line worked pretty well together.  It didn't take long to determine who the strongest rider was.  He was in the open class, not the 40+ class so I wouldn't have to try to outsprint him at the finish if we stayed together.  He seems happy to take the longest pulls at the front.  Dutifully pointing out the numerous potholes and other obstacles we had to ride around.

It was pretty intense riding for me.  I had to hang close to the wheel in front of me to get maximum benefit of the draft just to be able to hang on, but this made it impossible to see the terrain immediately in front of me in time to react to it.  I ended up nailing quite a few potholes but never flatted.  My ribs and shoulder didn't really appreciate it though.

When it's my turn at the front I watch my Watts to maintain a nice steady pace.  I watch the timer to be sure I'm doing my part to keep the pace line rolling, but not so long that I end up getting shelled off the back to no-ones benefit.

Every now and then we catch a solo rider that's been shelled from a group.  The further we go into the race the more frequently we catch riders.  Most don't even try to hang on to our pace line.  None succeed for very long.

With 5 miles to go, the young rider in our group asks if we want to drill it or if we think it would be advisable for him go it alone.  I told him he was the strongest of the group and now would be the time to go if he was gonna go.  So he takes off.  Now it's me and another Masters 40+ rider.  I can pretty much draft behind one if his calves, so I know I can't take him in a sprint.  I decide to up the pace and see how he's feeling, though he hasn't shown any signs of weakness so far.

In the last 5 miles we caught a lot of riders.  Two of which were in our class, one of which had a fully functional seatpost.  In the last 3 miles I really upped the pace.  I didn't look back.  Just kept pushing the pedals over like in the time trial.  When I got to the road where the ITT finished yesterday I knew exactly how far I had to go to the finish so I drilled it.

Unfortunately, I was mostly just doing a really good lead out.  When we got to the final road crossing (a 55mph hwy) we had to check-up to verify there was no traffic.  From there it was a short sprint to the line which I lost, but felt good about my effort.  It ended up being the sprint for 3rd place in Masters 40+, so I would be 4th.  Perhaps placing me 3rd in GC as the 2nd place rider today did not race the prologue yesterday and no one seems really sure how the bonus time works.

This had to be one of the fastest gravel grind races of forever.  My time for the 63+ miles was 3:09.  Tomorrow will be a similar stage that will determine the overall winner.  Hopefully I've regained endurance enough to keep the same pace.  If so, I think I have a shot at the overall podium.  Whatever happens, it's great to be back on the bike and feeling good.

See you on the trails!

Hellhole Gravel Grind Stage Race: Prologue

What a difference a week makes.  The Hellhole Gravel Grind Prologue is everything Three Peaks was not:  warm, flat and short.

Being an inaugral event, I wasn't really sure what to expect.  Looking at the pre-registered rider list I knew there would be some tough competition in my class.  It is an actual stage race where the times from Saturday and Sunday minus bonus time from today's Prologue will determine the overall winners.  The course is very, very flat (max grade for the weekend = 1.0%) and not technical, so I am anticipating a lot of pack riding the next 2 days - making today's prologue bonus time that much more important.

I arrived early to do a recon lap of the 6 mile course.  Very flat.  Very fast.  Three left hand corners, one right hand corner. 

The first rider would roll off at 6:30pm followed by another rider every 30 seconds.  I was scheduled to start at 6:50.  Front and rear lights were required by the organizers, but there was enough daylight that it wasn't really warranted.

When the start line official counted down "5-4-3-2..." - I took off on "1" and settled into a conservative pace to avoid going out to hard.  When I made the first lefthander 1.1 miles later I upped the pace 20 more watts and looked for the tail lights of the rider ahead of me.

I kept my head down and focused on maintaining a consistent pace.  After the second lefthander I could see a tail light in the distance.  I'm feeling OK, so I up the pace ever so slightly.  I am now noticeably reeling in the rider ahead.

Before the final lefthander I catch and pass the red light I've been chasing.  I recognize him as the rider that started 1:00 minute ahead of me.  It's now becoming difficult to maintain the pace but as I approach the final righthander that will lead me back to the start/finish, I up the pace a little more.

When I round that final corner, I know it is only a little more than a 1/2 mile to the finish so I get all that I can.  Watching my power only to make sure I don't let up.  I keep pushing the pedals over - each stroke getting me closer to the finish.  I can see the lighted finishing area up ahead.  I can hear the crowds at the line, and the generators used to power the lights.  All drawing me closer to the finish.  I would've stood to sprint, but couldn't in a way that would be faster than sitting and focusing.  So I sit and focus on putting the power to the pedals as efficiently as I can.

And then it's over.  17:07 after I started.  My goal was a time in the 16's, but I was happy with my pacing.  Later, when I downloaded the data I was pleased to discover that I was close to my pre-crash power numbers. 

Tomorrow will be 63 miles on similar roads to today's ITT.  It will be interesting to see how the dynamics of a mass start will play out with so many fast riders here.  ..and to see if a little guy like me can keep up with the big power guys.

See you on the trails!

Three Peaks USA

Three Peaks USA

   Although this would be my 4^th race since my crash and resultant surgery, I really felt like it was my first real race.  I rode the bike and set-up that I felt was best for the conditions instead of choosing a more comfort and “just get to the finish” approach.  I had raced the 72 mile Pisgah Monster Cross last weekend (on a MTB), so I knew I could go the distance.  I raced a training series race on my CX bike Thursday to be sure I could still ride a CX bike (actually, I doubled up and did 2 races just to be sure).  So when we all lined up behind the neutral roll-out vehicle – I knew that I was ready.

   The start was a bit chilly.  Most had jackets or arm warmers, many had leg or knee warmers.  We didn’t warm up much during the neutral start as we were braking more than pedaling down Beech Mountain.  As soon as the road turned upward on Peak One the race was on. 

   The first climb started at a brisk pace.  I had to really push to keep up. The overnight rain had made the first unpaved section very hard packed and very rideable.  I'm happy to be on my CX bike.  The fast rolling 35c tires I have picked are working well.  They have a tough sidewall and plenty of air, so I could pretty much ride with reckless abandon - except for the nagging pain in my side that keeps reminding that i still have some healing to do.

   The road from peak one to peak two is mostly paved, predominantly down hill.  The little group I am with swells as we catch smaller groups ahead and larger groups catch us from behind.  I feel like I should be going harder, but it's a trap. I would have to put in a lot more effort to go slightly faster by myself than I would just cruising along in our pace line.  Some people are chatting, indicating the pace isn't very hard.  Still, I press on, reminding myself to stay in the pack.  Determined to save some energy.

   Finally we get to some unpaved road and the pack starts to spread out.  This is my cue to up the pace.  We ride along the creek that we will soon have to cross.  At about mile 21 we get to the crossing.  I had enough foresight to dismount and carry my bike above water level to keep the chain dry. Others did not.  It's deep enough that it's cumbersome to run it, so most just walk.  I did.

   This section of the course is the lowest altitude of the day. It's also where the rain has collected into puddles. I'm leading a couple of other riders in and around the puddles. Sometimes we can go around them, sometimes we have to go through.  Sometimes they are deep, sometimes they are shallow. Sometimes there is soft mud, sometimes it's packed.  It's hard to tell the difference and I am getting tired of being the crash test dummy so I check up and let someone else test the waters for a while.  

   The puddles go away when we begin the climb up peak two. It's steep. My low gear is not really low enough, but standing is not a good option for me.  So I sit and churn the gears over.  This last half of the race has 2/3 of the climbing so I pace myself knowing that when it flattens out I'll be near my first planned stop - aid #2. 

   Soon the gravel turns to pavement. Gary Pflug, having stopped to fix a flat, blows by me on a steep switchback.  On his single speed...

   And then the pavement levels out and I meet my wife at the aid station. I get some nutrition and some encouraging words. It will be a 10(ish) mile "lollipop" loop back to the aid station.  The first half is mostly uphill to the top of peak two.  It starts out reasonable enough, mostly undulating, then gets steeper.  And then more and more sections have loose gravel.  My high pressure/speedy tires are struggling for grip.  I press on.  When I get to the steep, rutted, rocky, 4 wheeler trail section I hop off and hike it.  Some of it seems rideable.  Some, not so much,  but it seemed to be a waste of effort to try to ride it at what would be a walking pace anyway and I really didn't need to be crashing on any rocks.  So I hike.  And hike.

   The volunteer at the top says "it gets better from here".  Which it did, but it was still quite rocky and I was in constant fear of flatting until I got back onto the stem of the lollipop loop that would take me back (predominantly undulating downhill now) to what would now be aid #3.  There are still riders starting the loop from aid station #2.   As then road undulates up and down, the face and pace of the oncoming riders gives a good indication of the terrain ahead.

   After aid #3 there is a fast descent and I really want to drill it, but when I get to the bottom I know that it is one long climb to the finish so I am careful to keep some in reserve.  It's always better to go harder when the going is harder and easier when it's easier.

   When I start the climb up peak #3 I pace myself a bit conservative.  My PowerTap battery has long since died, but I'm watching my heart rate.  I start to get impatient but I know if I go hard now I'll have to pay for it all the way to the finish as there is no place to recover until the finish.  I get passed by 2 riders.  Another singlespeeder(!) and a rider from my class that I had passed on a descent.  Dang it.  Still, I keep to my pace, lifting it ever so slightly as I continue up the peak.  From the profile taped to my top tube, I have a pretty good idea how much climbing remains.

   When I get to a section that levels off for a bit, I keep the same intensity and go up thru the gears.  I catch an occasional rider, including a mtb in my class.  I pass him through one of my favorite parts of the course.  It's got lots of ruts and big, rideable rocks.  Barely rideable, that is.  A perfect balance of sketchiness and ride-ability.  I'm fatigued, but determined.  More determined than fatigued.  I ride the section clean.  Smooth.  I think to myself, "I can still ride a bike".  I smile and prepare for the last, steep part of the climb.  There is less than 5 miles to go and I intend to get all I can in that distance.

   Though I catch several riders, only one was in my class.  Still, I want to beat my goal time of 4:30 and at this slow pace of climbing the minutes are going by faster than the miles.

   By now it is easy to lose focus.  I tell myself to pedal.  Keep pushing.  Pedal.  Push.  Keep pushing.   Some of the gravel is loose and the road so ridiculously steep that it's hard to maintain traction, hard to keep the pedals turning over.  It's hard for everybody.  Keep pushing.  Pedal.  Finally, the last pavement section.  I can see the Pinnacle Resort Inn where the start/finish line awaits.  Pedal.  Smile.  Hammer out the finish.  Finish strong.  No rider ahead.  None behind.  Drive it home.  4:18.  Smile.  Recount blessings and relax.

   I can still ride a bike.  Joy.

   Everyone has strengths and limits.  I can't change my circumstances but I can choose my response.  I've worked hard to get back up to speed.  With the help and support of some awesome friends and family, I was able to make a speedy recovery.  My circumstances changed, but my priorities never did.  To be a healthy athlete, first you need to be a healthy person.

Thank you to all who have helped along recovery road!

See you on the trails!

Pisgah Monster Cross

My first race back after breaking a collar bone in 2 places and a few ribs was the 2nd annual 70 mile Pisgah Monster Cross Challenge.

I had done a little bit of riding on the road in the past week, but mostly I have been logging "miles" on my Computrainer.  So there was some trepidation on how I would hold up in real world race conditions.

I opted to race my Raleigh Talus 29'er hardtail with 700 x 40c CX tires.  I figured having the suspension fork and lower MTB gearing would be more rib-friendly.

We started from the Pisgah Ranger Station with a lengthy neutral roll out on a cool morning.  I managed to work my way nearer the front than usual for me.  I wanted to be sure I gave myself the best opportunity to hang on as long as possible.

When the racing starte in earnest we immediately begin the longest sustained climb of the race.  My Quarg power meter was not working, but my heart rate indicated I was putting forth a pretty hard effort.  ..and I was getting passed.  On a climb.  I set a goal: to not get passed by 10 riders on the climb.  I started to count them off:

Ok that's one. 

Another one.

Dang it.  Two more.

When I got to 6, things started going my way.  Downhill.  Suddenly me and my MTB passed all of the riders back that had just passed me and I gained some more spots.  As it turned out, I could still ride a bike.  Joy!

I kept a steady pace up the remainder of the climb.  When I got to the paved road that lead to the Blue Ridge Parkway I found myself pace-lining with another MTB and 2 cross bikes.  Until we got to Pisgah Point, or whatever the highest point on the BRP is called.  After that, those of us on MTB's couldn't hang with the CX bikes on the loooong paved descents.  I was pretty well spun out at 36mph, so I would pedal as fast as I could to get up to speed then tuck and coast at 36-42mph. 

So, after working like a dog on the places that I could pedal, it was kind of de-motivating to be caught by about 10 pace-lining CX bikes.  I fell in line with the group.  It wasn't long before we turned off the BRP and stopped at aid station #2 at mile 44.  I made a hasty water bottle refill and took off down the rocky/loose gravel Bent Creek descent.

By the time we hit pavement again, it was just me, one cx bike and the MTB from earlier on the BRP. 

From here on out I pushed hard.  It was clear I was able to maintain pace more than the others.  One by one I caught all of the riders I was around at the begining of the day that had gotten ahead of me.  The final descent is a rib rattler.  It's a bit painful on the ribs, but the frequent, tight, loose gravel corners keep the speeds reasonably low.  I know the finish is near, so I push hard with all I have. 

I catch one more rider on the road just before the finish.  He is riding a flat rear tire to the finish.  "Bummer", I say.  "It happens" he says, smiling. 

I do a pretty mediocre cx dismount before the only set of barriers placed in front of the finish line.  I crossed the line somewhere around 4:27, which translated into 20th overall.  After looking at the quality of riders that finished ahead of me, I felt a bit better about not being higher placed.  It was a good day back.  A good day on the bike.  The days mission: accomplished.

I'm not sure what the rest of the season will bring, but it's great to see everyone back at the races.

See you on the trails, or, maybe the gravel roads!

Recovery ride

Most of the spring season, my training was focused on doing well at MTB XC Nationals.  As explained in a previous blog, that didn't go well.  But the resultant form set me up for a very good effort at Wilderness 101 last Saturday.  It was probably a bit ambitious to try to do well at a 5 day criterium and road race series that started the Tuesday after Saturday's 101 mile MTB race.  So, after 2 days with lack-luster results I decided to take an uncharacteristic day off of racing to be more competitive for the final 3 days of racing.  It would be a perfect chance to do a recovery ride and familiarize myself with following courses on my new Garmin 810.

I loaded a familiar course into my 810 and headed out for an easy spin.  Twenty minutes later I was in Troutman.  I have to ride on Main Street for about 300 yards and then make a left turn, so I usually up the pace a bit to try not to disrupt vehicle traffic.  Today was easy.  No oncoming traffic.  I continued on my way toward Lake Norman State Park - thinking about wanting to try out my full suspension MTB that I had just converted to 650b and hadn't been able to ride it in the woods yet.  Oh well, plenty of time for that later.

And then it happens.  An angry brown dog comes running off his porch toward me at full speed with ill intent.  Now, I've been chased by dogs before.  Most just want to bark or chase behind.  The ones that want to bite usually go for the feet/pedals.  I've even had one get a mouthful of my rear brakes.  Usually a squirt from a water bottle or quick sprint takes care of the situation.

This dog was focused.  My Garmin data shows the impact occurred at 22.4mph.

Someone I don't know says something to me.  I want to get up, but I can barely breathe.  I look around and asses the situation.  My bike is on the ground near me, with the front wheel off.  There is a dog 100 yards up the road, whimpering, curled up in a ball.  There is a guy still talking to me.  I look at my bike again.  Both legs of the fork are broken and the top tube is cracked.  I'm going to need a ride home.  An SUV passing by asks if I need help.  I really didn't know, so I said I was fine.  I wasn't.  I reached for my phone, and after a bit of fumbling, I was able to actually use it as a phone to call my wife.  Fortunately she was nearby and quickly headed my way.

This is about where the damage assessment really started to take place.  I've crashed enough times that I am used to the scrapes and bruises.  To be sure, I had plenty of those.  But i could feel things moving inside of me that weren't supposed to be.  I still couldn't breathe well..  Collar bone.  Ribs.

I tell the guy, "Sorry about your dog." as I watch him drag himself back up the porch he had just come barreling down moments ago.  The owner didn't seem too concerned about his dog.  At this point my phone rings.  It's my wife wanting better directions to where I actually am.  After trying in vain to explain it, and still finding it hard to breathe and talk, I hand my phone to the guy standing nearby.

Pretty soon my wife's bright yellow Miata appears on the scene.  Somehow she manages to load me and the bike in the car.  She hands me my helmet.  I notice it is smashed on one side.

It was a slow day at the hospital.  They were able to do x-rays right away.  The doctor was impressed with the way I managed to break my collarbone in 2  places.  Broke/cracked some ribs, too...

They sent me on my way with a sling and some pain pills and instructions to follow up the next day.  Which I did.  Surgery for my collarbone is set for Tuesday.

It has been truly humbling to receive the amount of care and support that I have received from friends and family.  I appreciate everybody's offers to help out, for well wishes and prayers.  I am a very blessed individual.

Though I hate being off of the bike, I remind myself that things always go according to the plan.  It's just not always my plan.

I won't be seeing you on the trails in the near future, but I hope to be turning over the pedals on the trainer bike pretty soon.

  

Wilderness 101

I was really looking forward to racing Wilderness 101, having missed out at the very last minute last year.  I was already familiar with the trails from the two years that I did the Trans-Sylvania Epic Stage Race. I was (mostly) healed-up from my recent crashes and was on pretty good residual form because of attempting to peak for MTB XC Nationals.

The neutral start rolled off at 7:00 am on what looked to be a Goldilocks day - not too hot, not cold or rainy.  Just right.  ...with a chance of rain.  My favorite.

I try not to think of these NUE races as riding 100 miles (in this case, 101), but rather to ride from aid station to aid station.  In this case there were 5 aid stations.  #1 son was on hand to help out.  He would be aid stations #2 and #4.  My only planned stops.

The first segment is all gravel road or double track.  Even with the 5 mile initial climb, the pace was really quick.  Average pace to the first aid station was over 15mph.

Aid Station #2 comes up pretty quick as well.  There are a few short, rocky downhill single track sections, some flat sections where I have to pace line between climbs, and one really sweet, fast (smooth!) single track trail that ends too soon.  It's the section with the three narrow bridges that provide for an awesome photo op.  Sometimes I think the photographers are just there to distract you so you don't focus on the bidge and they get an awesome action shot of a rider plumetting to their demise.  Probably just me though...

The aid station #2 stop goes well, thanks to the quick work of my crew/son.  I may be a little off on my chronolgy, but on the way to aid #3 several things of note happened.  The best of which is that I am feeling good and passing riders.  The worst of which involved going over the handle bars in slow motion.  After MTB XC Nationals I was feeling pretty bad about my technical skills on the rocks.  But these rocks are different.  I can ride these rocks.  In fact, I think I would rather do 3 laps of Wilderness 101 then 3 laps of the Amateur Nationals course.  But that's another story... Anyway, I was riding well over the most highly-concentrated rocky trail when I came to what was essentially a quite rideable rock "bridge"  Unfortunately, I started to stray off line a bit, touched the rear brake a bit and lost enough momentous that my front wheel hit the next big rock and stopped abruptly.  So, of course I tried to ride out the nose wheelie and ended up over the bars.  Fortunately I landed on previously bruised/injured parts of me.

Somewhere around mile 50, on some gravel road, I got rattled at by a rattlesnake.  Later, I saw a huge eagle-shaped bird flying in the woods.  I was behind/under it, so I can't confirm it's eagle-ness.

Aid station #3 follows a rapid descent.  I blow thru at full gas, to the shouts of "We got a roller!"

An extra single track section was added between aid #3 and #4, pushing back my estimated arrival to aid #4.  I was a little concerned about running out of water, But, it's quite overcast with ocaasional very light rain and I would make it in good shape.  The additional single track section was less rocky then the surrounding trails, but very tight and twisty. 

At aid #4 I make my last stop.  Smooth and fast.  My final supplies to the finish.  This section of the course takes me near the Scout Camp where Trans-Sylvania is based, so I know most of the area pretty well.

Immediately after the aid #4 stop we do a long washed-out, rocky, double track climb.  I'm still feeling pretty good and I am able to climb it in the big ring.  Although I have been catching and passing racers all day, the thought occurs to me for my goal to be that whatever happens, not to get passed by more than 3 racers.  When we get to the similar-condition descent I hit it full gas.   I was doing really well, dodging all the large and pointy rocks.  And then I find it.  The rock with my name on it.  I feel the rear rim bottom out hard.  Followed shortly by a soft, squishy feeling rear tire.  Dang it.  I am racing tubeless, so I stop and blast it with CO2.  No hissing.  Hoping it will stay sealed, I carry on.  More squishy feeling.  So, I stop again.  Same result.  At this point I have only 1 Co2 cartridge left.  My choice is to keep blasting it and try to make it to at least aid #5, or to take the time to put a tube in it.  I chose to put a tube in it.  While stopped alongside the trail, three riders blow by me.  By the time I am back on the bike I am right in the middle of two teammates that would have been the 4th and 5th riders to pass me.  The single CO2 canister was not enough to fully fill my tube with as much pressure as I would like, plus now I have a tube that I have to be careful not to pinch flat.  There is still more rocky descent to go.  I started out gingerly at first, losing ground to the 2 teammates.  I couldn't hold back any longer...  I let off the brakes and tried to chose the smoothest lines, keeping my weight forward as much as possible.  Being recently invigorated by my brief time off the bike fixing the tire, it wasn't long before I dropped the two teammates. 

We crossed a bridge that was barely wider then my handlebars.  I rode it "chicken-wing stlye"  by putting both elbows out and just rubbing them agains both sides the whole way across. 

I blow through aid #5.  Five miles to go.  It's a contrast of smooth, flat rail trail and ridiculous rocky, river-side mostly hike-a-bike section.  Somewhere in there was the iconic train tunnel.  Soon I am back on the bike, cautiously riding over the remaining rocks and back on the road to Coburn.  Riding on pavement, I can really feel the squishy rear tire squirming around.  I wasn't sure if I was losing air, or if it was just that low because that is all the CO2 I had.  Regardless, it was motivtion to put the hammer down to the finish as quickly as possible. 

I beat my goal time of 8:00 hours, coming in at 7:50 something.  I think the announcer called me out as having finished 10th, which is pretty cool because I am not old enough to race the masters class in the NUE series, so I race the open class with all the big dogs.

A pretty good day.

See you on the trails!