Epic Shenanigans and Steamboat Stinger

Last week was a busy and fun one; full of shenanigans, bike industry debauchery, and finally some racing.  I headed up to Breckenridge bright and early on Tuesday morning for a few days of heckling at the Breck Epic.  The Breck Epic, for those who don’t know, has quickly become one of the Big 3 (in my opinion) stage races in the US.  It draws riders from all over the world to ride mind-blowing singletrack, lung-busting climbs at huge elevations, and amazing views for 6 days, all centered in downtown Breckenridge.  The course on Tuesday took riders over the Continental Divide two times; first over French Pass, then over Georgia Pass, before descending the Colorado Trail off of Georgia.  My plan for heckling/racer support was to set up an espresso station atop one of the huge climbs, and try to force feed espresso shots to as many asphyxiated riders as I could.  On Monday afternoon I secured this puppy:

Introducing the AeroPress.  Quite possibly the best camping espresso maker ever made.  Come Tuesday morning, I loaded my bag with 30+lbs of gear and ventured out into the cool Breck morning en route to Georgia Pass.  I set up shop right where the riders entered the Colorado Trail after climbing for an hour or so.  Much fun was had that day, with Jeff Kerkove being one of my first takers.  It was amazing to see the gratitude some of the slower riders had for my being there, especially after many had ridden through a cold hail storm. 

Photo courtesy: Liam Doran Photography

Photo courtesy: Liam Doran Photography

Photo courtesy: Liam Doran Photography

The next day I headed out on the Colorado Trail, almost right from town, en route to the top of the West Ridge climb, which was one of the hardest climbs the riders would face all day.  This time around I had perfected my backwoods espresso-making/serving technique in order to provide shots to any who would accept.  It was another super fun day.  My favorite taker was Kyosuke Takei, who in the midst of chasing down Todd Wells and Alex Grant (who were riding with other-worldly speed) came by demanding a shot of espresso!  Sue Haywood also made my day, as she crested the huge climb looking like death, and not able to even make words simply gestured for me to hand her a shot.  I gave her a push and some words of encouragement; the chick is a beast.  By far though, my biggest takers were singlespeeders and Europeans; go figure.

Kyosuke railing post-espresso!

This may have been the first time I’ve experienced a race as a spectator/heckler/supporter and it was such a good experience.  I intended the espresso shots and yelling to be sort of a sick joke, but it turned out to be appreciated by so many.

Next up was the Steamboat Stinger 50; a race I had been looking forward to all year simply based on its popularity.  In its short 3-year run it now attracts many of the top Pros in the area and sells out in minutes.  I knew there was something to like.  That something happens to be about 90% singletrack in each 25-mile loop.  Looking at the level of competition in the Pro class, which numbered ~110, I decided to forego the singlespeed to race with gears and the state’s fastest Pros.

I showed up in beautiful Steamboat Springs late Friday afternoon ready to race at 8am Saturday.  This meant no pre-riding of the course, which could have made a difference in a race this fast and furious.  I lined up in the massive pack right at the front, but as the start went off, way faster than I was expecting or used to, I lost a bunch of positions.  Coming from 3 NUE races this summer I wasn’t used to the XC start pace.  Judging from this race photo, I was back in 36^th spot right after the start before hitting a brutally steep climb. 

 

Where's Waldo

Shortly thereafter the course turns into doubletrack climb for about ¼-mile where I was able to pick up a bunch of lost spots.  This entire race was one of opportunities either taken or lost.  Each 25-mile loop consisted of two major climbs and two long sketchy singletrack descents. 

Being mostly tight singletrack, passing was as difficult as any race I’ve been to. Upon hitting the singletrack on the first major climb of the day I didn’t take the opportunity to get around another rider, which proved to be a mistake.  Within minutes he was carrying a train of riders, and we all lost valuable time.  Finally I did get around and distanced myself from the field.  That was until hitting the long singletrack descent; the trails were super tight, twisty, dusty, loose, off-camber, and sketchy!  My bike handling was absolutely horrendous, and before long I was the one carrying a train of riders.  As bad as I felt about holding them up, this was an unfortunate opportunity taken.  There were some pissed off riders behind me for sure.  The rest of the race was a lot more of the same, and I never did start feeling the groove of descending the constantly turning singletrack; get held up by riders on the climbs and lose valuable time, then get passed like I was standing still on the descents.  I felt like I was driving a school bus around the trails.  As frustrated as I was about my bike handling, I was elated at how my body was reacting to the super fast pace, basically XC pace for 50 miles, and I never did wear out until the very end.  With how strong I was climbing all day, I think I could have been a bit further up the field if certain opportunities were taken, but hey, that’s racing.  I came in 20^th Pro/Open in a who’s-who field of Colorado pro mountain bikers. 

Lumberjack 100 and Finding My Roots

Here it is, my Lumberjack 100 report, late but better than never!  I made the voyage from Colorado back to the Midwest for the second time in as many weeks for my first attempt at the Lumberjack, and only my second 100-mile race.  What initially drew me to this event, which I registered for back in February, was the majority of singletrack and absence of all else.  What I hadn’t considered was that it was Father’s Day weekend and I would be going up there with my Dad to camp in the forests of Northern Michigan.  Almost too perfect.

On Friday’s short pre-ride, in which I only did a few miles of the 33-mile course, I was feeling tired and unenthused.  The tired feeling could be explained by the 15-hour travel day on Thursday without sleeping the night before, then getting less-than-optimal sleep Thursday night.  The trails were one big bed of leaves, with a lot of sand and sticks strewn about. Not the awesome wet dirt singletrack of Mohican 100 that I enjoyed so much, but you can’t always get what you want!

I was up at 5 a.m. Saturday morning to make coffee and get ready.  I elected not to eat anything but a Honey Stinger waffle about 5 minutes before the start.  The start went off about 2 miles down the road from the Udell Hills Recreation Area.  I was surprised that I was able to keep pace and stay near the front of the 350-rider wave of starters, mostly by drafting off of geared riders.  As soon as entering Udell Hills it almost immediately turns to singletrack, which creates quite the funnel.  I did my best to use the edge of the course and get around 5-10 riders right there as they stayed in the middle and were forced to slow down.   

Dickie makes his move on the outside going into turn 1!

As the opening miles got underway it was simply a matter of getting around as many riders as possible and finding some clear air.  I made fairly quick work of that and within 10 miles found myself in a group of a couple of fast geared riders and three other singlespeeders.  This group of 6 or so would jockey back and forth for much of the first lap, and it was nice to have some geared riders to draft off of on the sections of doubletrack.  At that point, about 10 miles in, I noticed a few things.  Number 1, I was feeling a bit faster on the climbs than the other guys, but thought it beneficial to stick with them and pace myself.  Number 2, my seat had dropped down a bit, making pedaling seated a lot harder than normal.   Because of the fast pace of the race and the constantly twisting singletrack always keeping you on your toes, I neglected to stop and fix the problem.  At the same point, I had also forgotten to eat and hydrate.   

By the end of the first lap my seatpost had completely dropped into the frame, and I had spent the better part of an hour and a half standing up to pedal, completely smoking my legs in trying to keep up with the group, and completely neglecting nutrition.  At the same time, my usual focus on positivity was lost.  I came into the start/finish in a fit of rage.  I fixed the seatpost quickly and went on my way, now with a new aggression and ambition to catch back up to the group that had dropped me by 5 or 6 minutes.  Unknowingly, I was only about 8 minutes back of the leaders at this point!  I crushed the first 10 or so miles of the second lap and had actually been able to close the gap on our group again.  Just as I caught their wheel, we hit a section of fireroad, and my legs and overall energy level went “BOOM!!”  I couldn’t hang on as they drifted into the distance.   

Catching back up.

My energy levels continued to drop and never came back.  It is usual in a race of this distance to have a “bonk” or feel like shit for a time, but you just hope that your body recovers.  For some reason, on this day, mine didn’t.  I struggled mightily for the next two hours, going backwards, staggering around the singletrack like a drunken sailor and just trying to hold on.  Coming into the start/finish after lap 2 I had all but decided to call it quits.  It wasn’t going to be my day and I decided to forego the extra pain and punishment of another lap, when it was the last thing in the world I wanted to be doing.

This was a day of learning lessons in a real way.  It felt horrible to not finish a race; something I never want to do again.  In retrospect, I don’t have any qualms about quitting, as I think it was the best thing to do.  I have so much more racing and riding to look forward to this year that sparring my body the pain and not killing my ambition and enthusiasm to do such things is important.  On a positive note, I was riding really fast early on.  It wasn’t until midway through the second lap, after struggling for hours, that Garth Prosser came to my wheel and eventually passed me.  He finished 7^th overall riding a geared bike!  I was also passed late in the second lap by eventual 3^rd place SS finisher Ernesto Marenchin. 

In the end, it was a bad race day that I learned from.  More importantly though was hanging out with good friends, spending Father’s Day with my Dad and enjoying the beauty of Michigan.  I don’t get as many chances to do that as I do to race.

Lumbercamp

Upon getting back to Colorado my focus has completely changed.  After spending about 2 months extremely focused on training, nutrition, racing, and resting, I really wanted to get back to the roots of the sport.  What better time and place to do that than summer in Colorado!  I have given up specific training and nutrition regimens for a short time and replaced them with awesome rides in the high-country that have me more stoked than ever to get out and shred, and enjoying a post-ride beer when I want.

This weekend I’m super excited to be racing in Keystone at the Rocky Mountain Endurance Series race, and hopefully spending another day or two ripping down the lift-assisted bike park at Keystone and riding some awesome high-country singletrack!  Summer in Colorado is sooooo gooooood!!  Cheers.

It’s Not Always Better to Be Pissed Off than Pissed On

The Gunnison Growler. 

First things first.  The Gunnison Growler is so far the best event I have been to.  Dave Weins and the Original Growler Crew (OGC) do an amazing job.

Second things first.  I broke through new barriers during this race.  One of which was literally breaking my bladder, thru the barriers of my chamois.  I pissed myself.

The Growler is famous for being a grueling 64-mile race that feels more like 100 because of the constantly undulating and technical nature of the trails.  Having not ridden here before, one can expect to be punched in the face around every turn.  It has a reputation for breaking people down, both mentally and physically.

Elevation profile.  Up-and-down.  Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Sunday morning started dark and early.  I was out of my tent before sunrise at 5:15 am.  I quickly got dressed, grabbed my drop bag and gear, and headed towards downtown Gunnison and The Bean coffee shop.  It was 34°.  I don’t do well in the cold.  By the time I made the 2 mile voyage to downtown my hands were numb and body in a state of shock.  At least I still had an hour to drink coffee, warm up and think about things before the 7 am start. Out the door of the coffee shop I went at 6:45 back into the cold morning with ¼ of a cup of coffee in my hands, which I promptly spilled all over my frontal crotch region.  Great.  Not only am I out of my last dose of caffeine, but my junk is wet.  It wouldn’t be the last time.  As I stood there in the group of 350 riders awaiting the start I started to shiver badly.  Luckily the sun was coming up and before long we were off; a neutral motor-paced roll-out the 3 or so miles to the trail.   

The singlespeed field for this race was bigger than any I have previously seen.  My main competition (or so I thought) was Dan Durland, who beat me by a good margin at last year’s Breckenridge 68.  There were also a bunch of other very strong and capable singlespeeders, one being Gunnison local Dave Ochs.

I knew coming into the race that it would be a good idea to latch onto someone with similar ability, and also who may know the trail.  Having knowledge of this trail system and how to ride it, which lines to choose, what’s coming up, etc. is a huge advantage.  I knew Dan had done well here before, so I decided I would try to keep pace with him.  This turned out to be a good idea, as he kept the pace moderately fast without going too hard; always keeping in mind how long of a day we had ahead of us.  I rode with him most of the first lap, just sitting behind and conserving energy.  When the trail wasn’t beating the shit out of us we had small conversations, which was nice to take the mind off of a long hard day.  He told me that Dave Ochs was up in the pack leading, but he wasn’t worried because he had caught him during the second lap last year, and was hoping to do the same again.  At one point we passed Josh Tostado on the side of the trail fixing his chain.  I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before he was passing us again.  About 30 minutes later he was quickly approaching.  Both I and Dan let Josh pass, and it wasn’t 15 seconds later that he was out of sight.  This dude absolutely slays trail!  At about 25 miles into the first of two 32 mile laps Dan took a wrong line down a slickrock section and I was forced to pass.  Although I hadn’t wanted to pass earlier, it actually felt good to have some clear air.  I think I was descending a bit quicker than him and once ahead I decided to put just a little bit more juice into the climbs.  After a couple of minutes I had put a decent gap on him.  I rolled into the start/finish feeling really good about things, other than a full bladder that I had been holding since the start.  It took me a few minutes to fumble with water bottles and grab more food before I was off for another 32 miles.  The second lap was pretty much a daze.  The old “cramp monster” kept peeking its head out, but I was cautious to push too hard, trying to keep it in check.  The most eventful thing that happened was coming down a long ATV road descent; I finally made the decision that I was going to have to let my bladder free.  I was chasing first place and didn’t want to lose valuable time pulling over, so right then and there I let things “flow”. I didn’t realize that I was descending into a checkpoint, at which point things were flowing at max capacity.  I hope I gave everyone a good laugh.  There was one girl who was walking up the road towards me, and as I passed, piss rushing out of my leg, I said to her, “Ohhhh that’s warm!!”  All in all, it wasn’t that bad.  Would I do it again?  Sure, why not?  It was dried up in minutes and I was back at it.  About halfway through the second lap I took a Coca-cola and bacon-wrapped pickle handoff from a volunteer.  Just the energy I needed to keep going.  I was still making my way through the field this whole time, and was looking at a top 20 finish.  The last guy I would pass was wearing an Avery Brewing kit.  He told me that he thought Dave Ochs was only a couple riders ahead, that I was closing the gap, and that he would give me a free 6-pack if I caught him.  Inspiration.  I hammered all of the climbs as hard as I could, but still struggled on the technical sections.  In the end it turned out I couldn’t catch Dave, but was more than ecstatic to finish 2^nd in singlespeed, and 20^th overall.  Just finishing this monster of a race felt like a huge accomplishment. Being able to race hard, feel good, and have fun was a big confidence boost going into my first 100-mile races.  Next up, Mohican 100, Saturday June 1.

I can't say enough good things about my equipment for this race.  The Ergon GS2 grips and SM3 saddle were money.  Riding a hardtail for 5 hours 45 minutes on this terrain with absolutely NO soreness in the ass or hands is hard to believe.  My Maxxis Ikon EXO tires worked beautifully.  I saw a lot of flats on the course, but none for me.  The White Brothers Loop 100 fork worked perfectly all day!  This was my first time putting the fork to test, and it handled everything I threw at it with ease.  It is the perfect "set-it-and-forget-it" singlespeed fork.  It will be my fork of choice for any rugged race courses.

Thank God I'm empty handed.

The post-race party wasn’t too bad either.  I ate chicken-on-a-stick, filled (and drank) my complimentary growler with New Belgium, ate countless cookies, and even won some pretty nice swag.  I’ll definitely be back for the Original Growler again next year.  Cheers.

Whatsa' the Happenin' ??

Right now I’m in full training mode for quite possibly the two hardest races I’ve ever done, both a week apart from one another.  By training, I mean lying around as much as possible, eating food, and servicing my bikes.  This coming weekend is the Gunnison Growler, followed by the Mohican 100 in Ohio on June 1.  How can I afford to do this and still expect to do well at these races?  Well, the last couple of weeks’ trials and tribulations, and some good advice from people “in the know” have taught me some things.  Let’s just hope that it all works out.

The week before the Firebird 40, as I previously discussed, I was sick and tired.  Then, come race day, I felt like a million bucks (until, of course, I spent that million bucks fast and furious like an NBA rookie, and then was flat broke).  There was something about the sickness-induced rest that made me stronger, if only for a short period.  Then, after the race and some subsequent riding, I got sick again, for most of the next week.  Come last Thursday, the first day I felt like I had enough energy for a long training ride.  Low and behold, I felt like a caged ape on the bike; 6 ½ hours, ~70 miles, on my SS, and I felt like I could’ve kept going!  It was the best training ride of the year for me.  On Friday I was able to put in another solid effort with minimal fatigue.  Saturday was an off day, and then Sunday was one of the biggest rides I’ve ever done.  I wanted to hit all three trail systems in the Boulder area, by way of some pretty good mountain climbs.  The route took me up Sunshine to Gold Hill, back down Four Mile Canyon to Betasso Preserve; a couple of laps of the trails at Betasso; over to Chapman Drive and up to the top of Flagstaff; down to Walker Ranch for a loop; back up out of Walker to Gross Dam Road to Coal Creek Canyon; Coal Creek down to 93; 93 to Marshal Mesa for a quick trail stint (as the sun was going down) and back home.  My GPS died, but it was ~75 miles, over 10k climbing, and 7 hours.  This ride my body didn’t have the energy of the previous two, but it was good mental training for the upcoming 100-milers, when you’re tired and don’t want to go anymore.  The main piece of advice given to me from my friend Jeff, who is a National Champion and has raced and placed very highly at the Leadville 100 many times, is to do NO hard training rides within a week of a big race.  This is why I will be taking this week to just relax and let my body rebuild.  I’ve already seen first-hand how good I can feel after a period of rest, so I’m hoping to be at full strength come this weekend and the Gunnison Growler.

2012 Gunnison Growler Endurance Mountain Bike Race from chris miller on Vimeo.

Here’s my upcoming schedule.  So much unknown; so much to be excited about.

May 25 – Gunnison Growler (64-mile)

June 1 – Mohican 100

June 15 – Lumberjack 100

June 29 – RME Snake River, Keystone

July 14 – Breckenridge 100

Watch more video of Lumberjack 100 2012 on thom.cyclingdirt.org

Etc. etc. etc.

There are a bunch of races later in the summer, and maybe one or two thrown in between these as well, but that’s pretty much what the next month and a half looks like.  The best part?  I can’t wait to ride at all of these amazing venues.  Cheers.