Pre-race pic, happy with 65th given this was only my second road event of the year.
Beautiful cool weather this year unlike last year’s scorcher, so hydration was easy. Sad that this will be the last year for Madison hosting the race, but perhaps Northern California hosting it will be a good reason to take a trip out there in 2016. Next year, however, I am aiming for a Southern California trip for the Race Across America. Already starting my training for RAAM 2015, I thought it would be good to do the race and then do a long point-to-point ride while still tired from the race. With my wife’s family in Northwestern Wisconsin, it made sense for me to ride up there from Madison for the rest of our vacation up here.
I got a good start near the front, but not having ridden in a pack much this year I wasn’t good at keeping my position as other riders edged beside me. By the end of the neutral section I was already near the back of the field. I felt good on the Cat 3 climb to finish the lap and started feeling more comfortable moving around in the pack. On the third lap, I found myself near the back again when the field slowed down on the county road before the climb. I noticed on the previous lap that the shoulder is very nice, rideable gravel. So I ended up passing almost the entire field in the gravel. In retrospect, I wish I had attacked instead of pulling back into line because there was still a few more miles of slow riding. How epic would that have been to have attacked in the gravel in the national championship road race. Oh well!
Instead, by the time we reached the bottom of the climb on that lap I had already slid back to mid-pack. I was running out of nutrition so I asked Kristine to feed me gels on the next lap. I was near the back the next time through the climb and pulled over to grab the gels. I grabbed them with no problem and chased back onto the back of the field, but by this point the back of the field had splintered and there wasn’t enough of us to chase back on even though we tried an entire lap plus mixing it up with the large caravan of vehicles.
Many people pulled out, but Shawn Gravois (Lupus) and I soldiered on eventually catching Andy Scarano (UHC/706). Together the three of us rolled the last half lap until we caught a few more people coming off the lead group. The last person we caught was near the top of the climb, and he came back around us which was kind of the universal sign that we’re still racing. I took off up the final climb to end up finishing 65th.
Cave of the mounds
After the race, we wanted to check out the cave of the mounds since it was right by the course … an hour long tour was worth it even though my legs were tired and my stomach very hungry. By the end of the tour, we were practically running to the car to get to the nearest place to eat. We ended up at the Grumpy Troll in Mount Horeb. Very good, in-house produced root beer and cheese curds. Mmmmm, mmmm, mmmm.
Adventure in the hills of Southwestern, Western, and Northwestern Wisconsin
After dinner I drove Kristine and the kids on some of the routes through the hills between Blue Mounds and Middleton where we were staying – including Observatory Rd – the views are spectacular. One more trip to Starbucks, and I started this blog while the kids were swimming in the hotel pool. I tried to time my sleep so that I would get exactly 3 hours of sleep (two 90 minute sleep cycles) before getting up. Unfortunately, they were playing a replay of the highlights of last year’s Tour de France so I think I only ended up with one sleep cycle.
“Heading out for a little ride across the state of Wisconsin – 1:15am” – my instagram caption from the hotel elevator as I headed out for an approx 350 mile ride through the hills of southwestern, western, and northwestern Wisconsin.
I’ve included my route map below. I tried to pick the hilliest route I could find through all the hills that was still relatively straight heading in the northwesterly direction. There were many climbs I had to skip because they went too far out of the way, but I was still surprised when I was riding at just how many hills and valleys I went through — totaling just over 20,000 feet of climbing. The upper midwest has had quite a bit of flooding problems this late spring / early summer from all the rain combined with snowmelt. This translated to many bridges being out. That makes for quite the challenge on a point-to-point ride. Only two of the bridges that were out were on my direct path. The first bridge out I came to was actually not completely out, and I was able to cross it by hanging off the side of the bridge. The second bridge was really out with no bridge left. I wouldn’t have any problems with taking my shoes and socks off and fording the water, but it was very deep mud and grass that I would need to traverse — not something I wanted to do within the first 100 miles of a 350ish mile ride. The official detour was miles and miles out of the way, so I took an unofficial detour through several miles of gravel on steep rollers, whole fields of bunnies, and endless fields of corn. Some of the other bridges out meant that the larger roads were detouring onto the route that I was already planning on taking. Fortunately, this part of Wisconsin is really rural … no cellphone coverage for over 100 miles from Blue Mounds to Sparta. Then another 100 miles of no cellphone coverage until the outskirts of Eau Claire. So the traffic was minimal pretty much the entire day.
“All kinds of awesome on a point-to-point ride” – my instagram caption at the first bridge out … before holding onto the outside of what was left of the bridge to cross the creek. They had fenced off the bridge itself well enough that I couldn’t just climb over or around the fence.
I started out at 1:15 in the morning with the moon having already set. The Milky Way galaxy was bright enough to ride through open fields with no lights on! I tried this a couple times on the climbs up to Blue Mounds which have some stretches of open fields. Absolutely amazing. I had a four light setup for negotiating some of the fast descents in the dark – rear taillight, two handlebar mounted front lights (a 200 lumen and a small 50 lumen), plus a helmet mounted 200 lumen headlight. I thought I needed to conserve battery so on all the uphills I rode with just the 50 lumen light on. Then for the faster downhills I turned on the 200 lumen light at its lowest setting, and if the descent really started to turn downhill I flipped on the helmet light at its brightest setting. It turns out I didn’t need to worry about battery at all because this far north, it starts getting light outside by about 4:30AM. By 5AM, you can ride without a light other than a blinkie light for visibility for cars. Plus, sunset isn’t until 9PM with the afterglow lasting until about 10PM!
I also had two Garmins and a cellphone to keep charged during the ride. The cellphone was the most challenging to keep charged because there was so little coverage my phone battery was constantly draining as it boosted the signal to try to find coverage — unsuccessfully. Unfortunately, we had not anticipated so much non-coverage and Kristine was tracking me online. We pretty much gave up on the tracking after Blue Mounds, and I texted her in the two towns that had coverage (Sparta and Eau Claire).
I had split the route into five separate 70 mile courses, which I loaded onto my Garmin 1000. This was my first real course test for the 1000. It followed the courses with no problems, no crashes, no glitches. I know from much experience that my Garmin 800 cannot follow long courses with hundreds of turns without eventually crashing. But since I was doing all the navigation on my 1000, I was able to leave the 800 running without messing with it at all. It made it the entire 315 mile ride without crashing. I had to recharge both Garmins twice. I brought an Anker Astro Mini charger and a Gomadic Solar charger. I completely drained the Anker keeping the cellphone charged but it made it the entire day (21 hours) with a large part of the day spent searching for signals.
The Gomadic I split between the 800 and 1000 and was able to keep both charged although both ended the day with low battery and my Gomadic also with its low battery signal on. Also, in Sparta I knew that I might need extra battery so I bought a wall charger which I also used to charge the cellphone during an extended Starbucks stop in Eau Claire.
I’ll finish this post just with some pictures showing the scenery and describing the road as mixed conditions, a lot of smooth pavement with minimal cracking, the occasional perfectly smooth road, some larger cracks on a few of the heavier traveled roads, a few rough gravel roads, and one smooth fast dirt road which I think was being prepped for paving (county ww outside of eau claire). The terrain was steep rolling hills, long gradual climbs and descents in river valleys, plus the occasional long and steep cat 3 climb up to some of the higher ridges. Usually the top of the ridge would be flat to gently rolling with sweeping views of other ridges and valleys dotted with farms, barns, silos, forests … in other words flat out beautiful.
My adventure out west to race 24 hour mountain bike nationals led to a 7th place finish and lots of lessons learned for next year’s Race Across America. Here is all my heartrate data and a map annotating the course as well as a general description of the course. The lap times on my heartrate graph do not include time spent resting between laps, so this gives a better picture of how my legs/body were feeling on any given lap than the official lap times which include time spent in the pit between laps. One of the things I was really happy with for this race is that after an hour and a half of sleep, I put in negative splits on my last four laps. In other words, each of my last four laps was faster than the one before. That is very encouraging for RAAM how my body was able to recover and respond after such a short rest.
Heartrate zone summary
Annotated topocreator map of the entire course. One of the advantages of the topocreator map over Google terrain view is that it is very easy to pick out the high points on a course like this with all its gentle sloping. Click to enlarge. Or you may also download a high resolution version of this map.
This race was so well-organized by the folks at Zia Rides, and one of the great things about the course was having big red mile markers every mile on the course. This meant that you could break the course up into smaller sections and tackle each section independently – super important for a 24 hour race where you are looking for those boosts of achievement when you are super tired … so reaching the next mile marker meant you were one mile closer to the end of the lap. On the topocreator map above, I have labeled each of the miles in black M1, M2, etc…
We started the race out on the wide dirt road so that we would have a chance to sort out positions before the start of the singletrack. I had been worried all week that we would start in the campground under the finishing banner, which would mean a very short dash of 100 meters or so to the start of the singletrack before the dirt road. This singletrack was a climb through the campground followed by a descent to a bridge with a 90 degree turn entering and exiting the bridge – then more descending down through a cow field before a gentle climb up to the dirt road. When they announced during our pre-race meeting that the start would be on the dirt road, this was a huge relief that I wouldn’t be pressured to going really fast through the opening singletrack.
Opening singletrack through the cow field … storm approaching on Friday’s ride.
Still, it is tough to get everything organized for a 24 hour race and I didn’t hop onto my bike to ride over to the start at 11AM until after 10:30AM. Jake Wade (friend from ultracx racing) and I rode over past the start together and then out to the start of the singletrack and back as warmup. Even though we were back at the start by 10:45, there was already a ton of people lined up. So I started in the third or fourth row thinking that it was going to be tough to make up much ground before the start of the singletrack. Fortunately, I was on the righthand side and there was a 30+mph crosswind blowing from the left. I passed a ton of people and settled into line somewhere in the top 10 before the start of the singletrack.
The opening singletrack dropped down briefly before climbing steeply for about a quarter mile. Then it rolled along the side of a hill eventually making a 90 degree turn to head back down into the valley. But before hitting the valley, the trail went straight up a rock ledge. This was totally rideable as long as you had some momentum. I was worried that if you weren’t far enough forward somebody would goof this up and everybody behind would have to walk. I’m not sure if that happened or not because I was far enough forward that everybody could ride it. Dropping off the ledge on the other side was a dip down to a bicycle-specific cattle guard to take you into the long climb to the top of the course.
Collage of pics from my first ride on the course after arriving on Wednesday.
This climb started out very steeply but then rolled a bit before settling into a gradual gradient for several miles. The gradual climb was easy and non-technical except you did have to pick your line carefully to avoid riding over some big rocks. Those rocks were also rideable, but for a 24 hour race you are looking to save every ounce of energy and save your body from as many rock-jolts as possible … so you wanted to ride around those rocks instead of over them. The climb was about half-way over by the time you made it to the cat-tail pond where the junior course split off to the right.
The cattail pond between mile 5 and 6.
After the pond, the course continued to climb through miles 6 and 7. Topping out for the first time shortly after mile 7, there was a gentle fast downhill with lots of sandy turns before a gradual climb up through mile 8. This process repeated itself several times through the rim trail until you finally made it to mile marker 10 which was the high point on the course and the start of a long gradual descent peppered with a short steep climb at mile 11 and a few other small rollers. The climb at mile 11 started out with a short rock slab section followed by a turn straight up a steep hill. I rode it every lap except lap 8 where I was so exhausted I walked the whole section (including the flat parts) just to change up the pace a bit and give my hands a rest from gripping the handlebars.
One of my favorite parts of the course was shortly after this short steep climb – the singletrack continued climbing for a bit before diving back down one more time into a gulley followed by another steep climb on the other side. I figured out in my pre-rides that even with the rocks and roots on the climb, your best bet for this was to fly down the hill and hit the gulley at full speed. You popped up over the rocks and were more than halfway out of the gulley before you even had to pedal. Almost immediately after this, you rode straight towards a property line fence. The singletrack followed the fence very closely for about a mile. Each lap I looked forward to this fence because it meant you had about a mile of easy, smooth, fun riding before the rocky section of the downhill and then the long “berma” section of downhill. I didn’t get any pictures of this part of the course in any of my pre-rides because I never wanted to stop to take one.
The first major jump on the downhill section came right before mile 14 (red mileage marker visible in the middle of this picture) and was followed immediately by a 90 degree turn. Early on when you were fresh you had to make sure to keep your speed under control so that you didn’t endo on the landing.
The strava segment for this long downhill is called “Berma” presumably because after the jumps you have a number of partially banked turns. The dirt was quite loose so you had to get your line right or risk having your wheel washout. I had a couple close calls during my pre-rides, but by race day had nailed it down pretty good. Once you hit the bottom of Berma, you basically had a 4 mile rolling climb to the finish. The rollers were pretty steep (both up and down) so you got to do a lot of resting on the downhill parts which made the uphill sections more manageable after you had been racing for a long time.
The last mile was some narrow, bumpy singletrack alongside a beautifully paved road. No paved road for the race course, however, with 18 miles of single track and just over a mile of dirt road for a grand total of 19.15 miles per lap. In this picture the righthand side is looking up towards the campground / finishing area and the left side is looking back down the final mile of singletrack alongside the paved road.
That takes you through a single lap of the course. I was fortunate to pre-ride the course four times during the week leading up to the race and then twelve times during the race for a grand total of approximately 325 miles of singletrack — easily surpassing any kind of all-time personal record of number of miles of singletrack ridden in a single week. The course was perfect for a 24 hour mtb race, fast, diverse, safe, fun, and challenging. I’m very sad that USA Cycling is dropping this event off the national championship calendar, but the event was so well run we are definitely going to have to make this a future family vacation sometime in the next few years … maybe even next year!
“Finished, 23:01, 12 laps, about 230 miles of singletrack”
Amazing race, awesome adventure. My race was quite the roller coaster. I started out well sitting in 2nd or 3rd place through the first 100 miles (6 laps). Eventual winner Josh Tostado was flying and had a 5 minute lead on me by the end of the second lap. But even as early as the third lap, I was starting to struggle with breathing. I’m not sure if it was the altitude or the dust from the 30 mph sustained winds with all the racers on a very dry course. But I dialed my pace way back starting at Lap 4 and that didn’t really help much. By the end of Lap 7, Tostado had lapped me and I had slid back to 5th. The picture below is right before I started my 8th lap and pretty much says how I was feeling by that point.
“About to head out on lap 8. Just got lapped by Tostado, but I think I’m still in top 5. Fading…”
Lap 8 was the culmination of everything – unable to breathe, unable to put any power into the pedals even though my legs felt fine, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I was passed by so many people – of all ages and genders. When I would see headlights coming up behind me, I’d pull over, stop, lean over the handlebars and wait/rest. Then I’d sit there for 30 seconds or so to let the dust settle (dust at night is similar to fog at night in terms of headlights and visibility) until the next rider came. That lap ended up taking over 2.5 hours – almost twice as long as my fastest lap. Speaking of laps, here is my timing breakdown:
Lap 1 - 1:12 (17.5 miles, started us out on course) Lap 2 - 1:20 (19.15 miles for all subsequent laps) Lap 3 - 1:27 Lap 4 - 1:33 Lap 5 - 1:40 Lap 6 - 1:39 Lap 7 - 1:59 (about half lap was at night) Lap 8 - 2:32 (night lap, exhausted lap) Lap 9 - 3:59 (Slept for 1.5 hours before starting this lap) Lap 10 - 2:06 (night lap) Lap 11 - 1:51 (only the first couple miles with lights) Lap 12 - 1:40 Total time: 23:01
Towards the middle of Lap 8, I had thoughts of just quitting after that lap since I couldn’t hold onto the handlebars very well and just felt miserable getting passed by everyone. When I’d see someone’s headlights come up behind me, I’d pull over to the side of the trail and just rest for a few seconds until they caught up to me. By the end of the lap, I knew I didn’t want to quit but I also knew I needed to rest for a long time. So I sat in the chair, propped my feet up on the ice chest, and covered up with a big towel (temps were already down into the 40s). I didn’t fall asleep, though, I just laid there watching racers go by — including Tostado who lapped me for a second time. I got so cold after maybe 15 minutes like this that I moved everything out of the way and crawled into the back of the car to escape the 5-10 mph wind that was still blowing.
Joe Coffelt, who was helping me and whose wife got second place in the women’s race – see thank you section below, asked me what time I wanted him to wake me up. I told him I’d like to do 12 laps total, which meant four more laps. We calculated that 2AM would be a nice safe time to wake me up with enough leeway to get ready to ride again and have enough time to finish the last four laps. He ended up letting me sleep an extra 15 minutes – probably because I looked so miserable in the back of the car – but those 15 minutes may have been really important for me to finish the race at all. When I woke up, I had to change back into cycling clothes and then get ready to ride. I was so stiff I couldn’t imagine being able to complete another lap, but by the time I had made it to the top of the campground I was feeling tons better than before I went to sleep. Perhaps those extra 15 minutes were just enough to let my body and mind recover.
Also, there is no point in imagining how I might have done if I hadn’t slept at all. There’s no way of knowing whether my lap times would have continued to get slower and slower until I was forced to sleep either out on the trail somewhere or back in the pit area. That is what I think would have happened – although how epic would that have been to have pulled my bike off the trail, made a nest in the pine straw, and gone to sleep in the middle of the race. Or perhaps my body would have eventually recovered while riding. I’d like to think that I made the best choice I could have made given the circumstances. Those last four laps were the funnest of the whole race! I finally figured out all the sandy turns and was hitting those much faster and just generally enjoyed more of the course. I had expected that my last night lap on Berma (3 mile descent with jumps and fast turns) would have been my fastest because I hit everything perfectly, but it must have just been the illusion of descending at night that made it feel faster as it was only my 4th fastest time of the day.
Also, during that same lap I caught the 2nd place woman a mile or two before she caught the 1st place woman. I was in no hurry so I asked if I could just ride behind her for a while. Shortly before catching the 1st place woman, she surged and dropped me on the climb and attacked the woman who had been in first. I eventually caught the now second place woman and tried to encourage her before passing her with about a mile to go on the climb. It was really cool to see what I thought was the battle for first and second in the women’s race play out in the middle of the night. But as it turns out, one of the women had problems with their eyes on the next lap and had to stop, which moved my friend Laureen Coffelt, whose husband was helping me in the pit, up into 2nd place by the end of the race. I didn’t see Laureen the entire race until about mile 4 of the last lap when we were both on our 12th lap. I encouraged her and then raced on by imagining that 9th and 10th place were catching up on me and would boot me out of the top 10. As it turns out, though, I caught and exchanged positions with 7th place sometime during that last lap — although it’s impossible to know exactly when since there were teams, women, and singlespeed riders still out on course – and I passed a lot of people on that last lap.
I uploaded a higher res version of the results below – there were about 60 solo males that started the national championship race, so I was happy to finish 7th in my first 24 hour mountain bike race.
Huge thanks and shout-out to Joe and Laureen Coffelt (and Scott Kuppersmith for connecting me with them). Joe was supporting his wife, Laureen, who got 2nd in the women’s race. It worked out awesome that we were never in the pit at the same time, and Joe took complete care of everything (greasing the chain, refilling my camelbak, getting me food, drink, and coaching me through my first 24 hour race to a top 10 finish with some really strong guys here!) Also, a big shout-out to Kyle Taylor who inspired me to do this race early in the season when he invited me to do this race as part of a four-man team. But then I had my crazy bike-car accident which left me in the hospital for a week only six weeks before this race. Nobody, including myself, thought I’d be able to do the race which threw everybody’s plans for the race into confusion. My jaws were still wired shut a little more than a week before the race. I had to beg the doctor to cut the wires off, and was still ordered on a strict no-chew diet – but this race officially ended that. If I’m able to survive a rough 24 hour mountain bike race with no impact to my jaw, I think it is safe to eat again! My jaw and accident may have impacted my performance a bit – one very positive way and one very negative way. The positive way is that I essentially had 6 weeks of altitude training with me having to breathe entirely through my nose. I believe this really did help with the altitude (the entire race was above 7000 feet, and maxed out at 8300 feet). But the negative impact was my nutrition. I am a powerbar kinda guy. I like to eat bars, and that is how I have raced for years and years. For this race, I mixed up 10 bottles of a meal replacement drink and put them into my bottles to drink between laps for calories. This worked OK, but I was hungry and I started eating stuff after Lap 8 – chocolate chip cookies, snickers bars, whatever I could find at the aid stations. And I think my exhaustion by Laps 7 and Lap 8 may have been because of a calorie deficit. No excuses, though, because my altitude training may have offset the calorie deficit so that it all worked out even in the end.
I’ll upload more data and comment more about the course and event when I get home, but I just managed to lose this entire post and had to type it in a second time so I’ve left out some of the fun details of the race. Also, I’m in Albuquerque, New Mexico and for RAAM training for next year I’m going to go get back on the bike even though I’m very sore and climb Sandia Peak – should be fun!
24 Hours of Enchanted Forest
I’m happy that my first post back after my bike-car collision six weeks ago is from New Mexico where I am getting ready to race 24 hour mountain bike nationals near Gallup, NM. Everything has healed up great including my jaw, but I’m still being super careful with a limited chewing diet. I split the 1400 mile drive up into two days doing 1000 miles the first day to Amarillo, Texas and then 400 miles the second day to Gallup, New Mexico. Wouldn’t want to cross such a vast chunk of the country without doing some riding, so I stopped for some riding adventures along the way.
A ride down Texas memory lane – Tuesday
I met my wife during the summer of 2001 when I was volunteering in the Mercy Ships IT department outside of Tyler, Texas. Two years later after a long distance relationship, we were married in Wisconsin and then moved to California. So driving across the country is not something new for me, but it sure brings back tons of memories. I did a nice two hour easy ride around Van, Garden Valley, and the Mercy Ships headquarters remembering back to that summer 13 years ago. Although I did go hard up Moon Hill trying to get the KOM figuring that surely someone had made a segment, but my 37 mile ride didn’t match up with any segments on Strava! Imagine that – 37 miles of segment-less territory in East Texas. I did create two segments – one for Moon Hill and one for a road through some oil wells. Towards the end of my ride, I almost biked right past my friends Heather and Michael Drown who still work for Mercy Ships and were just finishing up a VBS planning meeting at the Garden Valley Bible Church. I saw them in the parking lot, though, and stopped and said hi for just a few minutes before finishing the drive out to Amarillo … Texas is big!
Amarillo Cross Fun – Wednesday
I just purchased a used cross bike and brought it with me specifically to tackle a climb in Albuquerque, New Mexico after the 24 hour race – but I also wanted to get some training on it for some upcoming ultra cross races … where I’m hoping to move up one step on the podium for the overall series by the time it wraps up in late November. I was looking for some good dirt roads with some hills using Google Maps even before leaving Alabama when I stumbled upon a street view image of some sort of bike park. So after sleeping in, I decided to go explore it on my cross bike. There was a few sandy spots where wider tires would help, but otherwise everything was totally rideable. Plus, there was a cool powerline paved trail running north of town that I also got to explore before hopping in the car to drive 400 miles across pretty much all of New Mexico to do my first pre-ride of the 24 hour race course.
Enchanted Forest Night Ride – Wednesday
I arrived just before sunset, but by the time I got everything ready to ride on my mountain bike it was just past sunset. The wildlife was amazing at that time of day even on the drive up from the interstate. Lots of cows running across fields (and the road), lots of deer, lots of bunny rabbits, one cool hawk (or owl), and not much else. I checked around with a few people who were already at the campground and found out where to head to find the course. I rode by one of the volunteers who was putting up the last of the arrows for the course, so it was completely marked by the time I started my ride at 8:30PM. I rode the first half of the course with no light under a rising full moon and lots of afterglow from the sunset. This was good because with the white dirt/sand trail the line to take really stood out. Eventually though it got dark enough that I was afraid I would miss an arrow so I used my light at its lowest setting. I wasn’t exactly flying, but I had no problem negotiating the entire trail with low setting. It was awesome riding in the dark under a full moon with a tall pine forest surrounded by nothing but the occasional deer or rabbit scurrying across the trail. I ended up my ride at 10:30PM back at the campground which was eerily silent with most everybody already asleep.
Enchanted Forest Day Ride – Thursday
I headed back out to the Ciobala National Forest to ride again today in the daytime. The trails are just amazing – super fast singletrack – you could probably big chainring the whole course, but there are a few places where it’s probably more efficient to dump it down into the little chainring. The primary difference between the singletrack here and what I’m used to riding is how smooth the course is — very few rocks and even less roots. Plus, a lot of the trails just go straight for a long time instead of lots of tight turns trying to maximize trail distance over a smaller area. It really is the perfect course for a 24 hour race – fast and fun, I think the time will just fly by.
Gallup Exploring – Thursday
I mapped out a Cat 2 climb using terrain view and satellite view up to the towers shown in the top half of the instagram pic above, but when I was doing the climb I discovered that a lot of the roads on the map were private, so I had to turn around. Still, it was some beautiful roads and the moon rise over church rock was amazing. The tailwind on the way out was incredible … I was going 37 mph on a flat road at one point with at least a 30 mph tailwind. Thankfully it had died down a bit by the time I was heading back later, but it was still tough just riding along a flat road straight into the wind. Can’t wait for tomorrow!
“Family sunset walk tonight”, Sunday @ 6:44PM
Quick summary: the cycling community is amazing, the Samford community is amazing, the UAB trauma center and all the workers there are amazing. My wife is incredibly amazing. My friends are amazing. I have determined from this one accident that I am officially the luckiest person on the planet based on the collection of family and friends that are in my life. I’m thankful to be alive and already on the mend, although my jaws are wired shut for the next two weeks. I was in a bike-car collision this past Monday, April 28th on my way home from work. I do not remember any of the details of the accident so rather than trying to speculate/make guesses about what might have happened, I’m just going to take you through a run-down of what I remember.
The timeline is out of order below to reflect the order in which I started remembering things.
- Monday morning – teach two classes. spend third class and lunch working with seniors on their projects.
- Monday afternoon – wake up in the emergency room, doctor trying to stitch my forehead, me saying “I don’t remember anything,” “I don’t remember anything,” “I don’t remember anything,” over and over again. Then I remember saying something like “I was coming home from Samford”. In what seemed like very little time, I started piecing things back together to fill out the missing time between the end of my classes and waking up in the emergency room.
- Monday shortly after 1pm – leave Samford out the back entrance. Straight across Saulter to merge with my normal Homewood – Smyer – Vesclub route. Do my normal route all the way until Rocky Ridge Rd where I decide it would be nice to do some easy climbing over in Georgetown so I’ll take an easier flatter route to get over to S Cove, then out the back of that neighborhood to get over to Georgetown.
- Monday @ 2:29PM – I take a picture from the Vestavia Hills High School parking lot of all the cars – presumably because Vestavia was in the process of letting out early. If I had not taken that picture, my phone would have been locked and Kristine wouldn’t have found out about the accident until much later.
- Monday about two or three minutes later – I turn left onto Panorama. At the South Cove stop sign I turn left. I remember making the left turn and then my memory abruptly stops. No recollection at all of anything between that moment, the accident which happened about 20 seconds later, and then waking up in the emergency room maybe an hour later.
What I have been told by others is that I only lost consciousness very briefly at the scene. I was awake, confused, and agitated, but I don’t remember any of that. I took a direct hit to my face somehow cutting open my forehead and cracking my jaw in two places on both sides of my jaw but no damage to my nose or chin. There is some deep annoying road rash on my neck and two sore (but not broken) elbows. I had lots of neck damage, the bruising right now a week later is insane – my body is yellow from my chest up to the top of my neck. I consider myself very, very fortunate.
My friend Boris rode back out there on his way home from work the day of the crash before the rain started and found half of my Di2 shifter, two of my sunglass lenses, and blood splattered on the ground. Also, one of my shoes is lost – no sign of it. Think it might be stuck in an EMT vehicle somewhere. I don’t think the impact was enough to knock me out of my shoes.
Monday night I was mostly out of it from pain meds. By later in the day Tuesday, I was starting to feel better – still a lot of neck and jaw pain. Heading into surgery on Wednesday, the plan was to screw two plates into my mouth — one either side of my jaw to keep the jaw bones in place to allow the two cracks to heal. This went well on the rightside of my mouth, but during the surgery the doctor discovered that the crack was much higher and farther back in my left jaw. This would have meant coming in from the outside through my left cheek – a much more invasive surgery. The alternative was to wire my mouth shut and let the bones heal on their own. They had mentioned this was a small possibility that they would have to do this during surgery, but me being my optimistic self assumed that it wouldn’t happen.
What now ranks as the absolute scariest moment of my life was waking up from that surgery to find my jaws wired shut. The doctor explained to me later that I woke up fighting like a teenager. What I remember is waking up and being unable to breathe. I realized very quickly what had happened, but I was still in a panic because I do not breathe through my nose very well. Plus the surgery involves placing a breathing tube through your nose so there was all kinds of blood and junk still in my nose. I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I was fighting for breath. But I was also very tired, so I remember falling mostly asleep again – then waking up in a panic – falling asleep – waking up in a panic – over and over again. I heard one of the doctors say that my heartrate kept going from low 40s up into the 80s – that was me falling asleep, waking up, panicking, and falling asleep again in somewhat rapid succession.
I think I eventually communicated that I didn’t breathe well through my nose, and they got me calmed down. I remember being awake some and then asleep some throughout the day eventually spending 8 hours in the recovery area. They asked me at the end if I wanted to stay in recovery or go back to my room, and I opted to go back to my room — primarily because of the frustration of trying to relax enough to pee into a bottle while laying at a 45 degree angle and lots of activity nearby.
The one good thing about the jaw surgery is that I no longer felt any pains anywhere in my body other than the Level 10 pain in my teeth and jaws. Imagine grinding your teeth together as hard as you can – not for just a second, but permanently. This is how tight my jaws were initially clamped shut. I think the wires have loosened a bit, but I have also lost all feeling in my lower lip and lower jaw and teeth thanks to unavoidable nerve damage during surgery that should heal up fine.
Wednesday night was horrible because I couldn’t sleep well, being in one position on my back for nearly 24 hours a day was just making my back and skin hurt everywhere as my jaw and teeth pain started to die down. I took this picture and posted it to instagram with a lot of help from Kristine who was there with me all night. This pretty much sums up how Wednesday night went.
“Status update, please send me as many well wishes and rayers. Only way to communicate is to write or type maked it difficult to reposition since I can’t move myself.”, Thursday morning @ 4AM typos uncorrected
Things started to improve a lot on Thursday because I was gaining a tiny bit more mobility and able to reposition myself. Prior to that I was entirely dependent on other people to move at all – which is bad in itself, but when you also are dependent on the right position to breathe well and not gag, it makes it really, really scary as noted on the clipboard I was using to communicate with Kristine. Many people visited on Thursday and Friday – and that was a huge help too as I started to move around a bit more and realize that I was no longer constrained to a single position or asking other people to help me move.
Friday, we got the quite unexpected news that I was ready to go home – we figured at least one more day, and instead I was home after spending all week in the hospital. Things have continued to improve since I’ve been home with my neck and knee starting to be the dominant pain. Enough about that, though, I’m thankful to be alive, which is why I’ve started with all the good pictures first and then included those closer to the accident at the bottom.
“Beautiful sunset walk with @ktoone”, Saturday @ 7:30PM
“Welcome home from the kids”, Friday @ 8PM
“Me and luc during my hot lap. @rapha @strava”, Friday @ 1PM. Luc had come down to visit me on one of his PT walks after being involved in a bad crash in the Tour de Blue over the weekend. I set that as my goal to return the favor – just barely caught him as he was about to be released!
“Ready for a hot lap around the 9th floor tomorrow I’m going to @strava it!”, Thursday @ 12:30PM
“On my way into surgery this morning. Little did I know how rough things were about to get.”, Wednesday@ 10:30AM
“Me and my beautiful wife @ktoone at UAB in a lot of pain but hanging in there. But in a lot of pain.”, Tuesday @ 11:39AM
Knee injury – my knee is in this picture somewhere towards the middle. Tuesday @ 11:39AM
Damage to my neck and face – Monday @ 7:40PM
ABC 33/40 news footage showing the bike and the car. Monday after I was on my way to the hospital
First responders – the car I ran into was driven by a doctor. I believe that is him on the left in scrubs attending to me from the beginning. This picture was on my phone taken by the person who called Kristine to let her know about the accident. Monday @ 2:45PM
2014 Cohutta Men’s Open Podium (left to right) – Brian Toone (8th), Garth Prosser (6th), Tom Burke (4th), Rob Spreng (2nd), Jeremiah Bishop (1st), Chris Michaels (3rd), Andy Rhodes (5th), Andrew Dunlap (7th) – not pictured German Bermudez (9th – off screen to the left), and Ben Richardson (10th – off screen to the right).
I never thought I’d be able to do this race because it is the same day as Athens Twilight. But this year was different because Kristine was out of town all week for work and to run the Big Sur marathon today in California. I wasn’t as excited for all the crazy awesomeness of Twilight without having Kristine to share it with. So I figured this would be as good a year as any to race Cohutta, and I was not disappointed. What an amazing race course and race!
Update – Kristine and her BRF Kim Moon (I think that stands for Best Running Friend) finished her marathon – see instagram pic below
My race went really well – attacked from the line and entered the singletrack with a good 15 second headstart on the rest of the 225 rider field. I figured I would get caught within the first minute of singletrack, but I held onto my lead all the way through the first singletrack — mainly because it wasn’t technical and it involved a climb. When we shot out onto the Boyd Gap overlook after 2 miles of singletrack, I let Jeremiah Bishop and a few others including single speeder Gerry Pflug pass me before the long singletrack descent back to the Ocoee Whitewater Center.
I hopped in front of the next few riders because there was a small gap and stayed out of their way until the hairpin switchback where I shot wide (partly on purpose) to let them by. I think three or four more people came by and that was it. I didn’t get passed by anybody else the rest of the day until really late in the race when German Bermudez (Rare Disease Cycling) caught back up to me in the final singletrack shortly after I passed him on the final climb up to that singletrack. I then followed his wheel all the way back down the final singletrack with the confidence of seeing somebody in front of me I had no problems keeping up. I then passed him on the final road section to finish 8th place.
But before all that … after the course crosses the Ocoee on the forest service bridge pictured above, it enters another long singletrack section but on a somewhat substantial climb. I had no problems staying in front of anybody coming up behind me. In fact, I started to catch two riders on the steeper sections of singletrack. They were not too far ahead of me when we exited the singletrack onto the first forest service road about 16 miles into the race. I thought “sweet” I’m going to start catching and passing people any minute. Well, the forest service road starts out with a long descent and those guys could fly on the descents. Even though there were a few really steep climbs in the middle, you are basically descending for 8 miles with some tricky switchback descents in the middle.
My first sign that I was starting to catch back up to them after what seemed like an eternity was Andrew Dunlap (Rare Disease Cycling) pulling out of Aid Station #2. We chatted and rode together on the flat section, and he mentioned that the two guys I had been chasing had been crushing the descents, but were just ahead. I saw them riding together right after Andrew fell off my pace at the first or second steep section of the long climb to Aid Station #3. It took a couple minutes but I caught up to them near some of the construction areas on the forest service road. I figured they would hop right on and draft me for a bit, but I think they came off pretty quickly. I wasn’t looking back, though, for fear of being discouraged that they were keeping up with me.
At this point, I figured based on the number of people I had passed and the number of people who had passed me that I was well inside the top 10. I kept hammering the climb all in the big ring for fear of shifting into the small ring and easing my pace. I spent a lot of time cross-geared or close to it, but it felt good to stand and roll instead of spin. Also, it really forced me to concentrate on finding a good smooth line since I was standing and needed the traction. I think this was really important on the climbs because there was a lot of loose gravel and you would waste a lot of energy bouncing on the rocks if you didn’t find the sweet spot of pine straw or dirt.
The next person I caught was a Toyota rider. A few minutes later, I caught his teammate. Then after another 10 minutes of climbing, I caught eventual third place finisher Chris Michaels (American Classic/Kenda/Tomac). This was shortly before the top of the first really big climb. Not too long after passing him, I got a small stick in my rear derailleur. I pulled over to stop thinking it might take a few seconds to pop out of the pulley wheel and that Chris would catch back up to me, but it came right out as soon as I stopped and pulled on the stick. Oh, if only it had taken a little bit of time to come out, it would have saved me 24:32 minutes in the race because I would have been with Chris and I don’t think we both would have missed the turn. Instead, I hopped right back on, crested the top and proceeded to ride 2.8 miles off course down into a saddle off the wrong side of Potato Patch mountain and then halfway up the climb to Little Bald Mountain (see annotated Strava screenshot below) I started getting suspicious that I made a wrong term when I couldn’t see another rider that I had been catching after passing Chris. Then eventually I stopped two different cars and asked if they had seen any cyclists. Both said no, so I turned around and headed back. The turn that I missed was marked with blue paint on the ground instead of the SRAM banners and arrows that I had been following. I don’t know why there wasn’t somebody stationed at the triangle there telling people to turn as it was in the middle of a fast descent where the natural direction is to go straight to carry your momentum up the next hill after it. I was going over 30 mph when I missed the turn.
After turning around and riding for a few minutes I knew for sure that I had missed the turn because all the people I had passed should have caught up to me. My first instinct was to cry knowing that I was racing essentially a perfect race up to that point and already in the top 3 or 4 about halfway into the race. My second instinct was to hit it hard to try to make up time. I think if I were younger I would have probably done the second, but having raced now for 20 years I knew that my best bet was to stay calm and just continue as if what I was riding was actually part of the course … continue to take in nutrition and eat as normal and don’t lift the pace at all. I did, and I was hoping to get the KOM on the reverse direction back up the climb with my steady Zone 4 effort as a reward for my being off course, but I missed it by a few seconds. Another reward, which I didn’t miss and greatly tempered what could have been huge disappointment was the absolutely fantastic view of Fort Mountain from partway up the Little Bald Mountain climb where I was off course. Fort Mountain will always be significant to me for a lot of reasons but especially because it marks the start of my foray into ultra endurance cycling. Read about Fort Mountain at the end of this post and towards the middle of this one.
Back to the race, I knew I had made it back to the race course when I saw two guys coming down towards an intersection. I saw the blue paint on the ground and knew that I had missed the turn. They were confused, too, as were many racers at that intersection. Most racers ended up missing the turn and hitting it on the other side of the triangle. But at least one other poor soul who I met when I climbed back up to the same spot 20 miles later had missed the turn and gone up and over the ridge like I did. I had the unfortunate (and somewhat ironic) opportunity to tell him he had missed the turn and had to go back down the hill I was climbing up. I was just ahead of those two guys on the start of the correct descent. There was another person just ahead of me on the descent and another person ahead of them. I immediately dropped the two guys and flew past the guy in front of me — I was guesstimating that my ability to drop people on the descent meant that those people were well outside of the top 50 of the race, and that was discouraging. I tried really hard not to think about the blown opportunity and what might have been and instead thought about 24 hour mountain bike nationals, how this was all good experience for future races, and man did i mention the course was awesome??? I think I passed four or five more people on the descent. I was out of water so I had to stop at Aid Station 4, even though it was not quite the bottom of the descent (hate losing all that momentum – my original plan had been to stop there on the way back, but going 24 minutes off course changed that plan!) The aid station workers there were super fast, and I got a bottle and was on my way in just a few seconds. I passed more people (perhaps some of the same) on the rest of the descent.
Then we hit a gravel road to start the long, never-ending, inferno of a Cat 2 climb (just a tiny bit short of Cat 1) back up Potato Patch Mountain. Initially, I was passing people somewhat constantly. As soon as I passed one person, there would be another person just up ahead on the climb. I would guesstimate I passed 10-15 people through here during the first 20 minutes of the climb. I had to stop at Aid Station #5 about 25% up the climb because I had gone through all my gatorade and the bottle I had in the back I hadn’t drunk out of and I knew it would be warm. I dumped that bottle on myself to get some cooling from the water and then refilled my big bottle out of the pump which was ice cold water. This was super helpful because the climb up Potato Patch Mountain from that spot was hell. My Garmin shows that temps were only in the upper 70s, but it was full sun in a lot of spots and you were only going 3-5mph at a hard zone 3, low Zone 4 effort. Sweat pouring. Eyes burning. One thing that really helped me towards the top of the climb was a rider I didn’t end up catching until many miles later – James Wiant (Peachtree Bikes, Atlanta).
I was closing in on him towards the top, but I didn’t catch him. He went over the top ahead of me maybe 15 seconds ahead and was maybe twice that far ahead by the time we made it to the next steep hill. This process repeated itself through all the steep cat 4 climbs across the top of the mountain. Each time, I would be a little bit closer until I actually caught him maybe close to 10 miles later on the last kicker before the longer descent down to aid station 3. I think he was pretty tired by this point because by the time I made it to the crest, I had put enough time into him that he didn’t catch me on the descent. That descent was particularly long and bumpy – it was one of a few later in the race where I was struggling with cramps in my hands. I would take one hand off the bar so I could stretch it and then alternate back to the other hand. I also spent a lot of time riding no-handed on some of the smoother sections of the course either in an aero position with my elbows on the bars or sitting upright stretching. I think that is really important in these long races otherwise you get to where you cannot hold onto the bars anymore.
After I passed James, there was nobody for quite a while – until close to the bottom of the 10 mile descent down to aid station #7. I passed two people in short succession, who then proceeded to pass me back when I stopped at the aid station. I had gambled with water by not stopping at aid station 3 and had been out for about 5 miles of the descent. In fact, some of the longer flatter parts of the descent I kept motivating myself that the aid station was just ahead, got to make it to the aid station for water, got to make it to the aid station for water. I was glad that I was well-hydrated up to that point and ended up drinking about 120 oz of gatorade and water in total for the day. That may not sound like a lot for an 8.5 hour race, but you have to remember that the first 3 hours of the race were quite cold with temps in the 30s and 40s in the valleys. It was definitely hot by the end, though, with temps climbing into the upper 70s and lower 80s.
At the aid station, I was told by the awesome volunteers who were also very quick (very proud that several of the volunteers were Samford students!) that there was one guy about 30 seconds ahead and a small group ahead of them by maybe another minute. I knew that there was only 14 miles to the finish, but I figured I could make up a minute on them – the question would be could I hold any kind of lead through the singletrack. At this point, I had still not passed any of the people that I had passed earlier in the race before going off course so I am imagining that I am sitting somewhere in the top 25. As it turns out, I was probably in 12th position at that point because I passed four more people (the group the aid station volunteers had told me about). This group had shattered on the final forest service road climb to the singletrack, so I passed them all one-by-one up the climb.
German was the first rider I caught, but he was the only one to catch back up to me in the singletrack. So that makes me think that he was the lone rider behind the group and was in fact catching the group when I first caught him. I mistook him for Andrew and said “hello again”. He asked what happened to me? And I told him I had gone 6 miles off course. It was very cathartic to finally tell someone that I had gone off course, but more importantly catching one of the leaders meant that I was well inside the top 25. Also, I caught one of the Toyota riders I had passed earlier. Still, I wasn’t convinced that I was anywhere close to the top 10 because I figured they were just having a bad day. As it turns out, I was having an amazing day but ended up adding 24:32 to my total time going off course. I wasn’t the only one, though. Singlespeeder Gerry Pflug was leading until he went off course at mile 95 and rode an extra 30 minutes of singletrack. Nathaniel Cornelius was in 3rd place and missed the same turn on the singletrack and ended up riding even more singletrack than Gerry. Fourth place finisher Tom Burke also went off course in about the same spot.
Even with the course snafus, this was a really well run event with some great volunteers. Any time there is a course problem, unless it is sabotage, it is ultimately the racer’s responsibility to know the course. That’s a bit harder for 100 mile mtb races where you’ve never ridden before, but still I could have spent some more time memorizing and studying the detailed maps on the website (I memorized the whole 500 mile route for the Heart of the South 500 mile race). Also, I could have pre-loaded the course into my Garmin. Normally I would do that, but I wasn’t sure about the battery life and whether the Garmin would crash if it were trying to follow such a long course. Live and learn!!!
Huge shout out to Greg Schisla, friend living in Murphy, NC who let me stay with him and also met me Friday after pre-ride for dinner at a very nice local Mexican restaurant. He was doing well in the Big Frog 65 in second place when he had major mechanical end his race (freehub body stopped engaging). It seems like even with perfect weather this year, the bad luck gremlins were out in full force at this year’s Cohutta! Maybe next year will be the year of perfect weather and good luck for everyone.
2014 Cohutta 100+ heartrate zone summary
I summarized the race in my Heart of the South 500 post, but there are many, many details that I left out that I’m going to include in this post. Grab a cup of coffee, your reading glasses, and get ready for an adventure! Long post, so use the links below to jump to a specific section:
- The Start – Friday, April 4th at 8pm CST
- Flying – miles 0-200 including Lookout Mountain
- Climbing – miles 200-400 including Fort Mountain
- Real Climbing – miles 400-450 including Mount Cheaha
- Sleeping – miles 450-517 including Vandiver
- The Finish – Sunday, April 6th at 3:48am CST
- Equipment Used
- Nutrition and “Drugs”
- Lessons Learned
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I had toyed with the idea of getting up at 2AM so that I would be tired enough Friday afternoon to take a nap before the start of the race at 8PM. After thinking about how much I still had left to do to get ready for the race, I decided I’d be better off getting a full night’s sleep and then spend the afternoon packing and double-checking the support vehicle. So at 6AM, I woke up, ate a normal breakfast of oatmeal and then biked my direct route (7.5 miles) into Samford University to teach my two Friday classes. It was raining so I wore my backup shoes. After class, I biked home again on a direct route this time in heavier nastier rain. See instagram pic below, which I captioned: “Clearing to the northwest behind samford, nasty commute home right now though.”
Home from university, I worked a bit, answered a few emails, and then started to think about packing. My father-in-law, Dale Cardwell, tested out our light setup and mounted the slow moving vehicle sign on the back of the car. About 2PM, I started throwing all my spare bike equipment into the back of the car. I took my Scott Addict as a backup bike, two extra Martindale wheels, a floor pump, my normal on-the-bike toolkits, and my normal travel tool bag. I also put in a couple extra bib shorts and jerseys. At the last minute I decided to throw in my lighter winter jacket just in case, but I was thinking that temps would stay in the 50s the whole race so I thought leg warmers and arm warmers would be enough. I was really wrong about that as temps plummeted to 32 degF on the descent off Lookout Mountain just before sunrise.
Even though I started packing kinda late, I had been formulating an idea all week of what I would need. See these two instagram pics from earlier in the week:
“Stopped by Brick Alley to pick up my backup bike for Friday.” I rode the 3 miles home from the shop carrying the Scott. Then I realized I was running late for picking up the kids from school, so I dropped the bike in the front yard and then took off through the woods to meet and walk home with the kids.
“Love the irony of biking to the auto parts store to pick up all the follow vehicle equipment required for the race.”
Nevertheless, I thought everything was on track for our Friday departure until I went to put in all my nutrition. The car was packed with a lot of stuff for Dale and my wife Kristine for 30 hours in the car. I wasn’t sure where to put the nutrition so that it was easy for them to grab and hand to me out the window of the car. At this point I had an inkling that this was not going to go quite as smoothly as I had imagined in my head for weeks. I put some gatorade bottles on the front passenger seat floor and a box with powerbars and powergels on the middle row of seats thinking that whoever was in the passenger seat would be able to turn around, grab what I needed, and hand it to me out the passenger window.
From Kristine early in the race – “Pile of maps, pile of charging cords and electronics, pile of food. #necessities Not seen: the pile of clothes and pile of bike equipment #needmorecaffeine #hots500″
My parents were coming over to pick up the kids and keep them for the weekend while Kristine, Dale, and I drove over to the pre-race meeting at 3:30 only 3 miles from our house at the Colonnade. But they couldn’t be there until 3:20, so we decided to go to the meeting without Kristine. At the last minute as we were driving away, my parents drove up so we scrambled to get Kristine in the car and get to the meeting on time. Smooth sailing on the drive and we walked into the meeting at exactly 3:30 and were pretty much shocked at what we saw. I thought there would be five or six people in the room since I thought there were only two other racers and everybody would have a similarly sized crew of two people. Well, there must have been 20-25 people in the room with 4 other racers (5 total) doing the race!
“500 mile pre-race meeting, getting real now!” Race director Tom Robertshaw was standing up in the blue shirt giving the pre-race instructions while I instagrammed this pic below. Most of his instructions were route related and brief review of the UMCA rules regarding lights.
One thing that came up that I had missed in the rules was required reflective tape or stickers on the wheels and cranks. I did not have anything reflective on my bike. We stopped by a hardware store on the way home and bought some reflective tape, but I remembered that I had bought some reflective stickers years and years ago to put on my helmet. I found the leftover stickers and thanks to Kristine’s suggestion and help, I used clear packing tape to secure about 10 stickers per wheel and 3 stickers per crank. This took a surprisingly long time, at least an hour to put all the stickers on both sides of my four wheels. I wasn’t sure how well it would hold, but it was both aerodynamic and amazingly secure.
Towards the end of the pre-race meeting, Tom indicated that we would be starting in 2 minute intervals starting at 8pm. He asked for volunteers to go first, and I shot my hand up as fast as I could realizing that it was going to be challenging enough for my crew without us having to pass other teams and their support vehicles. I didn’t know what to expect out of the other racers including a rider from Italy, but I figured that I might be the fastest given that I had a realistic shot at the record and that the record has stood for so many years. That’s the one downside of living so close to the start and timing everything so close – I didn’t really have an opportunity to meet the other riders. There was a total of five racers, and I believe I met three of them. Everybody was super nice and offered to help. It was not nearly the cut-throat mentality I had imagined ultra-endurance racing would be.
The Start – Friday, April 4th at 8pm CST
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With the car being packed full, there wasn’t a lot of room for my bike. I decided that it would be easier if I simply rode to the start – about 3 miles down Acton Rd. I realized a flaw in this plan about halfway there because I didn’t have any tools in case of a flat or problem. Fortunately, no flats for the short ride and, furthermore, no flats or mechanical problems of any kind for the next 500+ miles either!
When I arrived at the start, I saw the RVs of two of the other racers and then saw Kristine, Dale, Pat Casey, and Heather Hagan near the parking lot entrance. I rolled up at about 7:40. Race director Tom came right over and inspected my bike to make sure it had all the required reflective material – check! Then we took pictures. During that time Chris Shelton came over right as we were mounting the “Caution Bikes Ahead” sign to the back of the car, which turned out to be Chris’s sign he had loaned to Tom a couple years ago. Five minutes to go and Heather took this picture with my phone, I instagrammed it really quick, and a minute or two later I was off!
“5 min to start, let’s do this”
The course started out down Blue Lake Rd and turned onto Sicard Hollow Rd, which has several steep rollers. Dale was driving first, and it took a while for him to adjust to my sudden changes in speed as the road rolled down and then back up. I really wanted to hit the descents hard in order to take the climbs easier, but the negative consequence of this was my speed dramatically changing throughout rolling sections – from 10mph to 40+mph back down to 10mph all within half a mile. This made it tough for whoever was driving to match my speed and stay close. This upset me at the beginning because I really needed the headlights for the rough sections of Sicard Hollow. I stayed within the range of the headlights, but not close enough so that I could use the lights to see the nasty sections of road. Instead, I had to rely on my Axiom light set to its maximum power and a knowledge of the location of every pothole from having ridden the road hundreds of times. Everything turned out fine, but I called back to my crew several times (I had my phone with me) to let them know I was displeased. This is all within 5-10 minutes of the start of the race.
Once we made it onto the flatter roads of US-78 and AL-25, my speed stayed constant and pretty fast. I couldn’t believe how fast I was flying with what felt like very little effort. As it turns out, there was a nice westerly wind blowing, which my Martindale wheels picked up as a cross-tailwind and pushed me forward incredibly fast. About half a mile before the I-20 intersection, I saw an eighteen wheeler sitting at a factory exit about to pull out. Fortunately, we made it past him just in time, and I sprinted to the next section to the 4-way stop to make sure he didn’t try and pass before the stop. I stopped at the stop sign and then took off again, thankful that they had removed the stop sign on the other side of the bridge and also at the Co Rd 10 intersection half a mile later.
We flew along Kelly Creek Rd until I tried to coordinate on the phone our first pee break. After calling to tell Kristine, I found a quiet section of road at the top of a hill in the dark, signaled I was pulling over, and expected the follow car to pull halfway off the road (keep in mind these roads are absolutely deserted!). This was something we hadn’t talked about ahead of time or practiced at all, so Dale didn’t know what to do. I thought they were going to pee, too, but since I was already finished by the time Dale had gotten the car completely off the road in what felt like a parallel parking maneuver, I was already ready to take off again. I told them to hold it and took off. I was not very nice and for that I’m very, very sorry! Looking back, I realized now that I had not prepared either Dale or Kristine at all for what to expect. I just assumed that everything would seem obvious, but that is the problem with riding bikes, doing races, doing group rides, for years and years and years – what seems obvious to me is not going to seem obvious at all to people who have never done any of these things. Lesson #1 learned in the first hour of the race.
I kept thinking of the Iron War book and how I am much more like ironman athlete Dave Scott than his rival Mark Allen. Kristine had downloaded that book for our drive up Iron Cross in Pennsylvania last year, and we listened to the entire book on the trip. She had it again for her and Dale to listen to while they were following me. In the book, Dave is described as constantly berating his crew sometimes bringing them to tears, whereas Mark Allen is described with the ability to take everything in stride. As far as athletes go, it seems Dave showed more fire, more raw passion, but Mark internalized and pushed through adversity more on his own without taking it out on his crew.
Flying – miles 0-200 including Lookout Mountain
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US-231 north and AL-144 all the way to Co Rd 73 outside of Jacksonville were brand new roads to me. We crossed the Coosa River for the first of four times at the Neely Dam. With a nice tailwind, and generally flat roads, I averaged 20.1 mph to the first time station 73 miles into the race in Jacksonville. During UMCA ultra-endurance races, there are several time stations where the crew simply calls in your time at a designated spot using their cell phones. The spot, however, is chosen based on the location of physical land line phones for those racers who choose to do the race without a cellphone. I think that is absolutely awesome. This spot was not too far after passing Cooter Brown’s Rib Shack, which I remembered from this epic adventure climbing ride while Kristine was working in Anniston. In any case, I was flying as we headed north on the 4-lane highway of AL-21. Kristine was happy to report in after calling in the first time split. Shortly before Piedmont, we stopped for another pee break and my crew switched drivers (about 4 hours into the race).
Heading north from Piedmont on AL-9 was a fun, rolling road but the temp had started to drop and I was still in shorts and short sleeves. I was getting cold as the temp was in the low 40s by now but opted to wait until the climb from Leesburg onto Lookout Mountain to put on leg and arm warmers. During the climb, I pushed the pace hard wondering if I could get the KOM at a sub-threshold pace. By the top of the climb, it was cold enough I decided to forego the arm warmers and switch to my winter cycling jacket that I had thrown into the car at the last minute thinking I wouldn’t need it. The terrain across the top of Lookout Mountain is some of my favorite terrain for riding – nothing flat and everything is at least 10% up or down … none of this 3-5% flat stuff, which makes for some really fast average speeds but doesn’t give you the adrenaline rush of a 50mph descent or the challenge of a steep climb. 10% up or down constantly means that you are either absolutely flying or crawling, both of which are fun to me. I like the crawling parts because it’s easier to look around and take everything in and think. I like the fast 45-50mph parts because, well, they are fast.
Even though it was at night, this was definitely my favorite part of the ride. Rather than detailing everything in narrative form, let me just highlight the key parts of our 60+ miles spent atop lookout mountain:
- Passing through Dogtown, Alabama at 3 in the morning with, guess what, lots of dogs was fun. Also, the county sheriff was sitting at the 4-way stop – presumably looking for drunk drivers blowing through the stop sign. I stopped, waved, and made the turn to head over to Little River Canyon. We probably saw 20-30 county sheriffs or city police throughout the entire race and none of them stopped or questioned us.
- Little River Canyon – constant rollers, lots of gravel and debris on the roads from the heavy rains and storms the night before. One tree was down blocking the righthand side of the road. This was in a descent around a blind curve, but we made it no problem. Kristine posted the picture I’ve included after the highlights. No view over the side of the canyon, but you could tell that there was a large drop-off, and I could hear loud waterfalls at several points along the route. Also, we saw bunny rabbits hopping away a few times in the grassy sections next to the road.
- Camp Comer, where Josiah and I spent the night at the boy scout camp for Cub Haunted this past fall was another highlight on the route. We had an absolute blast, so it was fun to reminisce about our time there. We stopped, and I took the pic below which I would instagram later when Kristine and Dale drove ahead to get breakfast for themselves and coffee for me after sunrise near LaFayette.
- Cloudmont ski resort and Dan Taylor’s family house – we passed these landmarks approaching Time Station 2. Cloudmont is Alabama’s only ski area, with one slope and a tow rope. My friend Dan Taylor from Birmingham sponsored the cycling team I was racing for back in 2008 when we had an epic team camp in January of 2008 – quite the bonding experience. See last of the three pics below
“Still going well, stopped at camp comer, Josiah cub scouts camp”
2008 Tria Cycling team on the last day of our winter training camp at sponsor Dan Taylor’s house atop Lookout Mountain next to Alabama’s only ski resort (Mentone). The inset picture is from the Tria Cycling podium sweep of the Cat 3 race at Pepper Place at the end of the season. Left to right: Wes Douglas, Jacob Tubbs, Philip Thompson, Lennie Moon, Mike Lackey, Brent Marshall, Brian Toone (me), Daniel Taylor, and Darryl Seelhorst. Dan Taylor was taking the picture. In the inset from left to right – Sammy Flores, Philip Thompson, and Jacob Tubbs.
I stopped somewhere along Co Rd 89 to duct tape my shoes. I had not brought any shoe covers because I wasn’t expecting temps near freezing anywhere along the ride. It’s amazing the difference made by duct-taping all the ventilation holes and also the “worn-out-from-too-many-miles” holes on the shoes. At the bottom of the fast descent off Lookout Mountain, I saw the coldest temps of the entire ride at 32 degF. An hour or two later outside of LaFayette, GA, I instagrammed this pic during one of the sections where Kristine and Dale had left me to go get breakfast for themselves and coffee for me.
“Wasn’t expecting temps in the 30s. Duct tape really is the fix for everything!”
The water bottle coffee was great for warming me up, but the temps had also started to climb pretty quickly into the upper 30s and lower 40s by the time I made it to Snake Creek Gap about 210 miles into the ride. At this point, I needed to recharge my Garmin. I had a cool on-the-bike charging solution that I will describe later in the equipment section of this post.
“Georgia is blooming to welcome us! Almost 200 miles done in 10hrs 40min. @kartoone76 is amazing!”
Time Station 3 was at a Love’s truck stop at I-75 in Resaca, GA. Coming down from Snake Creek Gap with still a bit of a cross-tailwind, I made great time. The wind was clearly coming from the north, now, which I thought was awesome b/c it would mean a general tailwind for the route back home. I knew that the turn onto GA-225 due north towards Chatsworth and Fort Mountain would be brutal. And it was. Strong headwind. The road was rolling so that on some of the steeper downhills, you got a bit of a break from the wind. We took advantage of a porta-potty in a construction area almost directly on the route in Chatsworth for a quick potty break.
Towards the bottom of the climb up Fort Mountain, we stopped at a pull-out so I could take off my leg and arm warmers. Temps were still in the upper 40s, but I knew that it would be getting warmer as I climbed for the next hour. Also, I figured the effort I would be putting out would be more than enough to keep me warm on the climb. This worked out well, and the temps had warmed enough by the top I didn’t even need to stop to put any extra clothes on for the long descent. Kristine snapped this pic at the overlook near the top, where I had stopped on my pre-ride of this portion of the course and talked to some motorcycle riders. I knew from my pre-ride the week before that the climb wasn’t steep and that the descent on the backside had lots of short steep uphills. Still, there were some steeper sections of the descent and I maxed out at just under 52mph. Thankfully this was during the day so I didn’t have to worry about staying within the headlights of the follow car. They were quite far behind by the bottom of the steeper part of the descent.
“Climbing up Fort Mountain in GA to the 250-mile point – the turnaround! Somewhere around 14 hours in for my stud @kartoone76! #HOTS500″
Elijay was super busy so we decided for the follow vehicle to head up the road and wait at the next turn. This made it easier for cars to pass, but unfortunately my follow vehicle missed the turn. No worries, though, because I made the turn and after they figured out they had missed the turn, they caught back up to me pretty quickly on one of the hardest stretches of road – GA-382. This was a very hilly section of the course with steep uphills and long gradual downhills (I prefer it the other way around). It was still a really fun section of the course, and we passed a couple sag stops for an organized ride being held in the area. At the end of GA-382 was GA-136, a much flatter but more exposed road. The wind coming out of the northwest was a strong cross-headwind, which is one of the hardest wind configurations to battle with deep aero wheels. Nevertheless, the scenery was nice and I just plugged along until we made it back to Time Station 4. It was encouraging during this difficult section to know that I was approaching 300 miles covered with only 200 miles to go!
“Fort Mtn in the distance, that @kartoone76 climbed 50 miles ago. Approaching the 300-mi mark in the next half hour. #keepridingBrian #HOTS500″
My longest stop of the day was at the Love’s truck stop (Time Station #4). Shortly before stopping, I saw one of the other competitors pulling away from the time station. I was nearly 100 miles ahead of him! This was my first inkling that I might be really far ahead of everyone else. I still didn’t know where everybody else was, so in the back of my mind I was driven by the thought that whoever was following might roll up on me every time I stopped. By this point in the race, however, I was more than content to change clothes, eat a full sandwich and sun chips, and enjoy the warm sun in the parking lot.
Kristine’s post on twitter celebrating mile 300 two hours ahead of a record-breaking pace. At this point I only needed to ride the last 200 miles in 13 hours to break the record.
I was a little apprehensive as I went to start riding again that I wouldn’t be able to pedal the bike at all. Lo and behold, my legs, tendons, bones hurt a bit but nothing to the point of making me question whether I could ride 200 more miles. In fact, I was surprised what a little rest did and hit the pace pretty hard — especially since the turn onto the next road meant several county roads all with a nice tailwind. Unfortunately, there were several stop signs through this beautiful tailwind section. There is nothing more frustrating than hammering along with a tailwind (on a downhill no less) and then have to slam on the brakes for a pointless 4-way stop with good visibility. Nevertheless, the rules are the rules, and I stopped at each stop sign.
Sikes Story Rd led to Big Texas Valley Rd where we had a bit of a crew miscommunication. Actually, my crew did exactly what I told them to do – head up the road to Friday Rd (the next turn) and wait for me there. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how long Big Texas Valley Rd was. I ran out of food shortly after they left me, and there was no cellphone coverage to call them and ask/beg them to come back with some food. I did this whole section of Big Texas Valley Rd very hungry and worried that I was hungry with no food. When I made the turn onto Friday Rd, I flew past them and hollered for food angrily even though me running out of food was my own fault.
A few minutes later, Kristine had a bagel with cream cheese ready for me. I apologized for yelling and enjoyed the section of Friday Rd which was pretty nice and hilly. At this point of the race, my recollections are going to get farther apart because my brain’s normal recording mode was switching over to more of a survival mode. Still, I do remember a few things highlighted below:
- Generally heading south and southeast with a tailwind. Weather starting to get chilly as the sunset. Being disappointed at how far apart the towns of Cave Spring and Cedartown were.
- A couple swamp-like areas near Cave Spring
- Happy to make the turn onto US-278 knowing it was taking me back to Alabama, but then really disappointed with how long it was taking me to get to the small Hardin Rd turn. I kept thinking that each next side street would be the turn to take me across the Chief Ladiga trail and back into Alabama. And then it would be some other random street!
- Being chased by dogs almost as soon as I crossed the border into Alabama. Welcome to Alabama!
- The hills on the foothills road race course not being as steep as I remember them. I think that is because the only other times I have ridden those hills is at max effort during a Pro/1/2 road race with a lot of pros. The hills are a lot easier if you can just spin up them easy!
- White Plains Rd in the near-dark with instagram and facebook beeps going off every minute or so … more on that in a minute
- Endless AL-9 in the dark(I thought I only had less than a mile to ride on it, but in reality it was nearly 8 miles!)
- An extremely busy gas station stop and bathroom break immediately before tackling Cheaha
About the instagram beeps – I was starting to struggle around mile 400 being a bit sleepy and tired. I gave Kristine my phone and asked her to instagram something so I could hear the “beeps of encouragement” with the phone back in my back pocket after she finished instagramming. For the first couple minutes, there was nothing, and I thought “oops, bad idea, better forget about it”. But then a beep, and another beep, and pretty soon my back pocket was beeping at least twice a minute. You all really pulled through and it was super encouraging for the next hour. Here is the picture she instagrammed and cross-posted to facebook:
I had taken this picture when I reset the Garmin about 12 hours earlier near Snake Creek Gap. Kristine’s caption: “An old photo, but 100 miles to go! Like this or comment and Brian will hear the alert in his pocket! And go!”
This takes us to Mount Cheaha, which I have ridden many times. The road has deteriorated quite a bit over the years. Believe it or not, the road used to be fairly decent chip and seal until one year they decided to redo the chip and seal and did an absolutely horrible job of it (although I think it might have been intentional to try and slow cars, motorcycles, and cyclists down). They put down some horrible chip and seal with too much chip and too much seal. So you have these sharp, rough rocks sealed in place that don’t move. You have to try to find a clean line over them while trying to maximize your downhill speed for the next insane uphill with gradients approaching or exceeding 20%. This was all in the dark, so I relied a lot on my headlight as Kristine again had a hard time staying close enough for her headlights to be much good since she was not allowed to use her high beams at any time during the race.
I knew the climbs would be hard, but there were more of them than I remember on Horseblock mountain. I usually approach Cheaha from Co Rd 24, which cuts off a bunch of the steep hills before Horseblock. I thought there would be one or two, but it felt like there were at least five sharp steep hills before even reaching the final steep climb up Horseblock shortly after Co Rd 24. I kept waiting and hoping to see the AL-49 sign because I knew that meant I had reached the Cheaha climb itself which has a few 10% sections, but is much tamer than any of the climbs leading up to it. Across the top, we did a super fast bottle exchange and clothing exchange while pulled off at the state park entrance. Several people camping out at the park hollered encouragement as I biked by at about 9:30PM – probably bikers who were themselves doing the Cheaha Challenge the next day.
By this point I was really cold and starting to get very, very sleepy. The first part of the Cheaha descent including the sharp turn onto the Old Cheaha Challenge course to Camp Mac is insane enough to keep you awake, but once I made it through that part of the descent my troubles began. We stopped in Camp Mac for food exchange and to assess everything before the last steep descent off the mountain. I realized how sleepy I was when I fell asleep standing up next to the car. We made it down the final and probably most dangerous part of the descent b/c of the steep dropoff into the river canyon at the last ramp down to the bottom. We made it down OK, and I think the fact that I knew we were down with the last major course obstacle out of the way caused me to relax a bit – which led to the next 67 miles being pretty much absolute hell.
Sleeping – miles 450-517 including Vandiver
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There is no other way to describe it. I wanted to sleep so badly yet I knew I couldn’t. I would force myself awake by trying to stomp on the pedals or stand up and pedal (I did a LOT of standing during the last 3 hours of the race). There is no feeling like wanting to sleep, being 75% (or more) asleep, and then being forced awake. That moment of coming back from 75% sleep state is so mentally painful. Rinse and repeat to various degrees and you have the last 67 miles of the race.
Before that though, down at the bottom of Cheaha, I was extremely cold, shaking cold. The air temp was still in the 50s but my heartrate was down in the 80s and 90s. I no longer had enough left to push the pedals hard enough to even remotely stress my aerobic system. So with temps in the 50s, I had the following clothes on: shorts, leg warmers, fully duck-taped shoes, jersey, and winter cycling jacket. This still wasn’t enough to keep me warm, so we stopped for me to add a layer — Kristine’s hooded sweatshirt with the hood up over my ears under my helmet — and rearrange the layer order so that my winter cycling jacket was on top of everything since it is more wind resistant. This still wasn’t enough to keep me warm but it was warm enough. In fact, it was probably good that it wasn’t too warm or I probably would have lost my battle to fight off sleep if I had been toasty warm.
When we made it to the town of Talladega, we headed straight for the McDonald’s where I sat in the car with the heat blasting while Kristine and her dad went inside to get coffee for me and for themselves (Kristine was half asleep as well). This was our second longest stop of the entire race, but it actually did serve to wake me up a bit. Teenagers were hanging out in the parking lot next to the McDonald’s blasting some music and just having fun. For some reason this was refreshing to me.
I have ridden to and from Mount Cheaha from my house a number of times, and the race route followed my preferred route almost to the T so I thought that would be helpful in keeping me awake. It really wasn’t. I was just too sleepy. I think it would have given me physical strength, but I was not in a mental state to really use it. I was just awake enough to pedal in a straight line, make all the turns, and coast on the downhills. In retrospect, I probably should not have coasted the downhills because that led to the following problem: coast sleeping. I’d be awake enough to focus on the downhill and then by the time the road flattened out or started to kick back up again, I would relax, forget to pedal, and come nearly to a stop. The physical act of almost stopping would then jolt me back into being fully awake.
It’s kinda sad because I would have absolutely loved the last bit of the race with all of my out/back rides to Cheaha having involved some form of epic adventure or another. I would probably have been in tears so happy to be on really familiar roads, so happy to be so close to being done, reminiscing back to previous epic adventures (e.g., this one on superbowl sunday). Instead, it really was a form of torture, each agonizing minute wanting to be asleep, but forced awake by the road, by Kristine honking, or by the simple desire to push through to the finish. No tears, no reminiscing, just a painful, painful effort to stay awake, to watch out for road hazards, and to not fall asleep. I have short glimpses of sections I remember, but most of them were disappointment realizing some other obstacle. For example, on the Vandiver climb, there are two curve signs – the first one which means you have a bit farther to go and then the sharp turn which means you are almost to the top. I remember a feeling of disappointment when I saw the first curve sign. I don’t even remember the second curve sign, cresting the top, or the first part of the descent. I remember the bottom part of the descent because I knew how dangerous it was and was awake enough to safely negotiate the turns at some ridiculously slow pace. I don’t remember the railroad track crossing or even going through the small town of Dunnavant, but I do remember the steep climb on the Hwy 25 rollers. I kept wondering if the dog in the house on the left, which is rarely out, would be out and chase me down. This led to my next thought, which was of the dogs at the next house on the left which had bitten me over 20 years earlier on one of my first rides on AL-25 – dogs that are probably long dead, but I wondered if they would be out … ghost dogs. I don’t remember the curves before the final descent, but I remember seeing the fog again on Elliot and thinking how 30+ hours earlier, that same fog was forming out of the valley. No recollection of Hwy 119, Zeigler, or Rex Lake. I remember more of the Sicard Hollow section because I kicked it up again after the four-way stop at Grants Mill. I think I stood up from the four-way stop all the way past Liberty Park and never let up on the pedals.
It wasn’t until I crossed Grants Mill Rd that I started to wake up again. At this point, the reality started to hit that I only had a few miles left to finish. Whatever adrenaline I had left came back to the surface and that pushed out the sleep. I stood up and hammered the last bit as hard as I could. By the time I made it to the finish, I was much more awake than I had been the previous 50 miles. I wanted to ride back to the house, but Kristine cleared out a spot in the back of the car while I was taking pictures with race director Tom, who had come out to Vandiver to check on us and then taken 280 back to the Colonnade to be there when we arrived. Tom helped me put the bike in the back of the car. I crawled into the car, and Kristine drove the final three miles home. All three of us slept until 12:30 in the afternoon without waking up once during the entire morning. It was probably the soundest sleep I’ve had in years.
I was disappointed to have missed breaking the course record after being two hours ahead of it over 300 miles into the race. I was disappointed to be so sleepy after only 400 miles. But then Kristine pointed out that I had not slept at all prior to the start of the race at 8PM. In a normal race starting in the morning, I believe I would have made it the full 500+ miles without the same sleep issues. Also, I was looking back at the reports for when the record was set in 2005 and 2006. Back then, they were able to choose a start time, with Chris MacDonald choosing 7AM for his start time in 2005 and Tinker Juarez choosing his start time of 5AM in 2006. This means both of them had a somewhat normal night of sleep immediately ahead of the race. I, instead, had a normal work day prior to the start of my race! I feel very confident that I would have either broken the record or come much, much closer to it without all the sleep problems.
Kristine took this picture, and then I instagrammed it on the short 3 mile drive home: “1st place! 31:48″
The centerpiece of this race for me was my Martindale 6.0 wheels shown at the top of this post with the reflective stickers. I have raced a long time and used all kinds of wheels, but these are the smoothest and most aerodynamic wheels I’ve ever raced. I had no mechanical problems or flat tires, but I had a second set of Martindale wheels – the 2.8 models ready to go as backup. Here’s the full list of all my equipment and backup equipment in the car:
- Trek Madone 5.9 – 2013 model frame
- Ultrega Di2 electronic shifting
- Martindale 6.0 wheels
- Vittoria Rubino Pro Slick 25mm tires
- Merckx setup (no tri-bars)
- Speedplay zero pedals
- Garmin Edge 800
- iBike Newton+
- Gomadic solar battery pack – I think it’s a discontinued model
- (2) axiom 200 watt front lights – used one at a time while other re-charged
- (2) axiom usb rear lights – used one at a time while other re-charged
- (1) axiom dual purpose light – used to supplement the cheaha descent
Backup equipment in the follow vehicle (all of it unused) -
- Martindale 2.8 wheels
- Full frame pump
- Two brand new vittoria rubino pro slick 25mm tires
- Backup bike – Scott Addict with SRAM force components, no wheels
- Two ziplock bags full of tire levers, tubes, chain tool, allen wrenches
- Backup shoes with speedplay cleats already mounted
- Backup speedplay pedals
- Several battery packs “bricks” for charging crew devices and my lights
- Garmin Edge 705 – sometimes in my pocket, sometimes in the follow car. Did not end up needing any of this data.
I do not like taking any kind of medicine at all because I simply do not like medicine. So my body is super sensitive to pain medication. I took two alleve about an hour before the start of the race. About 18 hours later sometime around mid-day when my body was starting to hurt a bit, I took two more alleve. That is the only pain meds I took during the race. Nothing after the race, and I didn’t really start to feel any kind of major pain until late afternoon on Sunday after waking up from sleep. Two more alleve on Sunday afternoon. One on Monday morning, and none since then. Everything is back to normal.
As far as nutrition goes, I stayed on top of it for the first 12-16 hours of the race eating a powerbar harvest bar (250 calories) at least once an hour. I really like powerbars, but it turns out that there really is a limit to the number you can eat. Sometime after Fort Mountain, I didn’t want to eat any more powerbars. Kristine had a whole bunch of panera bagels and cream cheese – so she made three or four of those over the next several hours. I also started to rely more on the caffeinated powergels and gu roctanes. In addition to all of that, I didn’t drink any water during the entire race – it was all orange gatorade and orange powerade. That adds another 150-200 calories per hour. At the Love’s truck stop (time station #4), I had a ham and cheese sandwich and half a bag of sunchips. Late in the race I was craving salt, and Kristine got me something that was pretty salty but I was half asleep and don’t even remember what it was now. Altogether, Strava calculates from my Quarq power meter that I did 20,307 kJ of work during the race and burned 22,643 calories. I would suspect that I consumed somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000 calories. I had a really light riding week leading up to the race and ate a lot so I had gained weight — all the way up to 149 pounds shortly before the race start. I forgot to weigh myself after the race, but a week later and after eating everything in sight all week, I’m still hovering around 144 pounds, meaning that it is safe to assume that I lost more than 5 pounds of non-water weight during the race. Unfortunately, I suspect that at least a pound of that was muscle but hopefully the rest was fat.
I am aiming to race the Race Across America in 2015 and be competitive. If that is going to happen, I need to learn a lot from this race. I think I have learned a lot:
- Plan, prepare, and communicate. They say that one of the hardest things about RAAM is the crew. Not only do you have the logistics to deal with, but you also have people having to endure a lot of sleeplessness and boredom. The more I can prepare people for what to expect, the better.
- I’ve got to stay on top of sleep. My general plan for the race has been to sleep less at the beginning and more later, but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I’m thinking more along the lines of 500 miles riding, 6 hours sleep, 500 miles riding, 6 hours sleep, etc… This would put me across the country in approximately 180 hours + 30 hours sleep = 210 hours = 8.75 days = a really good time for RAAM, certainly nowhere near the records of under 8 days, but also still the possibility to place well in the 2015 results while getting a sane amount of sleep each night.
- Nutrition is going to be tricky. I should probably mix more in than just powerbars from the beginning. My go-to food can be powerbars, but I should alternate in bagels, salty things such as trail mix, and other non-bar items so that I don’t get sick of powerbars so quickly and not be able to eat them anymore.
- Garmin charging setup worked really well. I’ll plan on doing at least one 500 mile leg in a single Garmin file just to see if it can make it, with backup options in case the Garmin crashes. My solar battery pack is really light and fits well in my back pocket. I have a green mini-usb cable that can reach out of my back pocket and up to the handlebars to charge the Garmin while I ride. It never came unplugged at all while riding, and it didn’t interfere much although the cable would bang into my leg very lightly with each pedal stroke. I got used to it after a few minutes.
- I need a hands-free set for my phone. It was annoying having to fish my phone out of my pocket, especially at night with long finger gloves. A hands-free set would simplify everything and allow for more constant contact with the crew. Also, I’m going to need to think of a good charging solution or battery pack for the phone, possibly a second solar battery pack as they are so lightweight.
One more time, the map of the course overlaid on the raised relief maps of the southeast that I’ve had up for years on my wall in the basement – the entire course fits on the map!