Gasp! NUE 2013 Schedule finally revealed.

So referring back to my post about my potential 2013 race schedule, I now have something new to get excited about.

Tatanka. Tatanka? Yes, Tatanka. Proceed with the Dances With Wolves jokes.

The Tatanka 100M apparently returns for it's second year in 2013. It doesn't appear to have had a spectacular turn out this first year, but hey, small races can be solid events too. Plus, I've never been to South Dakota. Could check one more off the list.

Seems like a good time. Note: The last few, mostly downhill miles are cut off here. 

This is an unexpected addition to the 100miler based NUE series. And with further investigation, as I learn more about my local geography, I found that it takes place within a rather reasonable distance from homebase. Sub 7hr drive for a 100 mile race (or, 112 in this case) is totally realistic. Never mind the fact that I don't have an automobile anymore. Details, pointless details.

This unheard-of race makes a 2013 assault on NUE a possibility...and borrowing someones car a requirement. Beginning with a seemingly early True Grit Epic in March. 10+hrs away. Leaving plenty of time to prepare for the 2nd annual Tatanka 100M in late June. Sub 7hrs away. Then a couple weeks later return to Summit County to take on all three loops (rather than just two, like my Breck68 appearance in 2011) of the Breckenridge 100. Then finish the required 4 races with either the 9hr drive away Pierre's Hole 100 in Alta, WY, the ridiculously quick to sell-out Park City P2P (sub 7hr drive), OR a flight back east to some old favorites, like the Wilderness 101. 

You know what? It's still a shit load of travelling, as I already mentioned. But maybe it's worth it. 

Full Moon EP exploration

Thursday nights are the beginning to my weekend, having Friday and Saturday off. The school I live/work at is built on a contour in our own slice of heaven up in the hills outside of town. An incredible place, but it is a fish bowl life at times. Sometimes you just need to get out and stretch your fins, if you will. 

So as the full moon rose over our ever-present monoliths, I began the always stellar voyage into town. Coming down our long driveway that opens up into the greater Estes Valley never disappoints. Rocky Mtn National Park fills the western horizon with snow covered ranges, sometimes so clear they seem closer than they are, sometimes hidden in their own weather systems, sometimes glowing in the moonlight like this night, and sometimes so bright from the snow's reflection that capturing them with a lens is nearly impossible. 

. 

And there's the wind. My oh my, this damn wind. It's maybe a 2-3 mile descent into town and it's rare that I'm don't have to pedal forcefully to keep moving. The gusts are heavy and often unending, making for difficult downhills. Luckily, the other common obstacle has only been dealt with while driving. Elk. I'm not looking forward to the night I come across a gang of elk, a big bull and his heirem, aimlessly crossing the road. It's been a humbling experience to drive through them in a car. 

I was intending to grab a bite and a beer at one of Estes Park's several mediocre mexican joints, but alas, like most of businesses in town, the one I had in mind closed their doors recently for the slow winter. So I kept riding up the short, heavily lit main street, to see what else town had to offer. I cringed as I passed several businesses closed for the season, but blaring some of the worst christmas music onto the street for all to hear. It wasn't getting me into "the spirit" as it might have been intended to. Downtown is chock full of tacky tourist traps; a mountain beach town, complete with tie-dyed t-shirts and salt water taffy shops. Yes, salt water taffy. In Colorado. Not two minutes and I was at the other end of town, coming up short for appetizing dinner options and needing a drink more than when I left. 

Ah, but what if I rolled up the hill a little, just outside of downtown? There lies the Stanley Hotel and Colorado's largest selection of whiskey (I later learned). The very same hotel of The Shining, and perhaps more importantly, Dumb and Dumber fame. It's a bit on the classier side of things, but I could roll down my pants and take off my wind jacket. This is Colorado after all. They expect beards and burliness. At least the tourists that flow through this place do. It was my best option. 

No bike racks at a place like this, so I locked up to a No Parking sign, rolled down my pants to best conceal my mtb shoes, shed my wind jacket, neoprene gloves (which are amazing!) and cycling cap. Once at the marble and wood bar, I knew instantly that I made the right choice. It was a most enjoyable   culinary and lone-wolf at a bar experience. 

On my return ride it dawned on me that I was out of any sort of libation back home, so a stop at Rambo's, possibly the best named liquor store I've come across, was in order. But I was travelling light and did not have a bag. What to do, what to do...Round bottles and double bags but of course. Luckily there was an affordable bourbon packaged in such a bottle. One must celebrate these little moments of ingenuity. 

2013 race schedule on the mind

Living back in Colorado, this time for a full year (maybe longer) rather than the quick summer in 2011, has got me doing some serious shopping for 2013 races. Diving into endurance racing with the Wilderness 101 back in PA, then attempting an NUE 4pack to qualify in the series back in 2010, makes it hard to let go of that series. It's just a ton of traveling to pull together 4 races living out west. There are plenty of ridiculously hard, fun, and in some cases free races right here in CO. Hm, but I'd sure love to see what a year living and riding above 7,000' would do to a finishing time back east...

With the aforementioned tubeless wheels built up for my cross bike and a renewed excitement for riding it,  the gravel grinder format also has quite a bit of pull. Reading about the Dirty Kanza and Crusher in the Tushar in XXC Mag certainly piqued my interest.

Sadly, the work schedule doesn't allow for any stage races. I'd love to return to the 2013 edition of TSE  or take on the Breck Epic, but don't have the time. 

I'm also searching out teams as well. Care to add an endurance single-speeder to your roster anyone? I certainly enjoyed wearing the cog skull and cross bacon jersey of Faster Mustache this year, but considering the fact that I'm no longer living in the GA, it seems time to move on.

A mostly unrealistic, yet desirable list of potential 2013 races:

March True Grit Epic, UT (http://www.gropromotions.com/trueGRIT.html)

April 6th or 7th(?) AntiEpic Gravel Grinder 150, CO (http://antiepic.blogspot.com/)

April 13th Durango Gravel Grinder 160/115, CO(http://coloradoes.wordpress.com/swes-event-list/durango-gravel-grinder-100/)

April 18hr of Fruita, CO (http://www.emgcolorado.com/events.htm)

April 28th(?) Cohutta 100 Ducktown, TN (nuemtb.com)

April Whiskey 50 Prescott, AZ (http://www.epicrides.com/index.php?contentCat=6)

May Desert RATS 100k Fruita, CO (http://geminiadventures.com/new/?page_id=619)

June 1st Dirty Kanza, KS (http://www.dirtykanza200.com/)

June 29th Durango Dirty Century, CO (http://coloradoes.wordpress.com/swes-event-list/durango-dirty-century-ddc/)

July Breckenridge 100, CO (nuemtb.com)

July 13th Crusher in the Tushar, UT (http://www.tusharcrusher.com/)

July Wilderness 101, PA (nuemtb.com)

July Kennebec Pass Enduro, CO (http://www.bigmountainenduro.com/)

July 20th Rico 100, CO (http://coloradoes.wordpress.com/swes-event-list/rico-run/)

August Pierre’s Hole 100, WY (nuemtb.com)

September Park City P2P, UT (nuemtb.com)

September 8th(?) Vapor Trail 125 Salida, CO (http://vaportrail125.com/)

Stock Photos

A well brined* turkey can be so much more than two bags of tasty meat. 

 Take bones, add celery, carrots, garlic, onions, a leek, parsley, salt & pepper, water and heat. 

Then wait and enjoy the smell while it simmers. 

*The brine was apple cider, kosher salt, and homemade trinidad scorpion chili & peach hot sauce (compliments of my brother). 

"What I stand for is what I stand on"

Compliments of a High Country News issue in our library. Great reading. 

New Wheels. New Adventures.

New wheels on the Nature Boy. NoTubes Alpha 340 rims (prize for taking 3rd @ TSE) on White Industry hubs built up at Brave New Wheel. 

They've stirred my desire to explore my new backyard here in Estes Park. Below is the "Bone Pipe" trail heading back into campus. Longs Peak just to the left. Our very own Shaman Peak on the right.

The weekend I picked up the wheels, I dove into the deep end and raced at the USGP Ft. Collin's cyclocross race. 40 some single speeders and more carbon fiber than I'm used to seeing in the ss field. It was the biggest, most pro race I've done in a long time; maybe ever. Fun, but cx is certainly not my discipline. Way too fast, with no room for error. Not to mention I haven't been really riding for months now. Below's a picture of the fly over. Run stairs, ride ramp.

Two weeks later I got the stupid idea to subject myself to another battery-acid-flavored race down in Boulder. This time I thought I'd make it even harder on myself by riding down to it. 40 some miles of mostly downward slanted pavement. Beautiful ride, but I wasn't exactly feeling fresh at the start line. A bus of students and a colleague of mine drove down to cheer me on, and thank the internal combustion god, drive me home. The night before I experimented with some rice cakes (a la Skratch Labs recipes). Super simple combination of rice, crushed pineapple, and salt. Sure beats paying an arm and leg for energy bars.

I showed up to the Boulder race early and got to take in the views. Did I mention that the race was at Valmont Park? A city maintained bicycle specific park. Yea, it's pretty sweet. 

And then...my new warranty replacement mountain bike came in. Out with the Salsa Selma, in with the El Mariachi. A huge thanks to Ray (of TSE fame) for pulling the warranty together back in PA! I gotta say, it's nice having a steel steed finally. Plus, I can fit fatter tires in the rear. 2.4 Ardents front AND rear? Sounds plush to me. 

A day or two after I built it up my friend Rick and I rolled out to nearby Crosier Mtn. He was lending me his size small 26" full suspension bike to show me around the first two months here. It was probably the longest I've ever ridden either a 26" bike, one with gears, or a bike with suspension. It took some getting used to, but it was time to explore my new local trail options and so I bobbed around and crunched through gears with a smile on my face. There were moments when I thought that some of these trails would be unrideable when I got a ss full rigid under me again. Silly me. That moment came and I've been crushing it. 

And I leave you with a view of a distant Longs Peak from Hall Ranch in Lyons (home of Oskar Blues Brewery). A grainy bedrock and boulder strewn climb, technical to the point of walking, but definitely rideable, led to a sandy well-designed lollipop loop on a plateau. There were signs warning you about mountain lions, but all I saw were mule deer. Ok, and incredible views. Again.

Flattop Mtn - RMNP

Trans-Sylvania Epic - The Start (1-2)

Stage 1 Prologue - Bald Eagle

"Woah! It can't be this fast all week..." I thought. Dejay caught and passed me just outside of the camp. He started only 30seconds behind me in this 11ish mile time trail to start the week. I told myself I'd hold him off until then. It unfolded as a week of miniature goals just like this. Racing 101 folks...I guess. What the hell do I know.

It was a long road until the second fun single track bits and pieces, with a good bit of downhill that gave me some valuable intel for the rest of the week. Dicky, who also caught me, starting a minute back and bringing up the rear of the single speeders, can't descend worth a damn. He's small man. Big personality... but that doesn't help your momentum downhill. Hm. Good to know. I tucked that info away for later.

I had no idea what to expect. We were in the camp side of things, Bald Eagle (pronounced Bal-daegle round them parts) and I wasn't familiar with the trails. Plus we were heading onto private trails, so who knows what'd we'd be hitting. Not to worry. It did not disappoint.

Dicky took the hole shot. We were pulling Steven who we we just passed, the Texas contingent of the small ss crew. I think it's fair to say that none of us really knew each other's ability. Having worked at a Niner dealer, I knew of Dejay and figured he'd be dominating, but the other four of us were wild cards in my mind. So like the trails, I didn't want to disappoint.

I kept on it.

Swooping, serpentine singletrack through trees and ferns, not far off of Decker Valley Rd. Up a rooty, rocky jolt of a hill, Dicky slipped out and I cleared it to pass him. I knew it was a long week ahead, but what little competitive burn I had in me got stoked at that moment. I couldn't let him roll in before me. "Well shit....didn't I tell myself that I just wanted to finish the week? That's my goal". A voice said in the back of my mind. "Screw it!....New Plan". Race on.

We burst into a Pennsyl-tucky backwoods party, complete with people cheering, logs and giant tractor tires to ride over, and a grin from ear to ear that returned to my face every single stage. Well done Mike and Ray. Well done.

The fun and games were short lived sadly. I kept ahead of the other two and passed Chris Merriam before the long climb out of there. I was in second place now...but not really, since we all started at different times. It was beautiful, with a dense carpet of ferns all around. It seemed to get rockier the higher we got up the low ridge, but never too steep.

A quick drop onto more road, then more trail. I knew I rode these trails before, but couldn't remember when. Some group ride years ago probably. Fun. Was glad to be back.

I stuffed it up a little rocky climb, caught a rock or something, looked back, got back on and kept pushin'. No one was in sight. In this little crash something clicked on too. I had to ride smooth the rest of the week. At least try. I didn't want to get hurt.

Passing geared riders here and there, looking back when I could, I ended up on more familiar terrain, seen towards the end of the W101. Not far now.

Up a really steep stretch of the sand and rock motorcross trail, I got off to jog/walk myself up. As I was about to crest the hill I looked down to see Dicky digging in, attacking the hill at full speed.

No time to relax.

I stayed ahead, passing geared riders as quick as possible to get them between me and my competition. Luckily there was a nice fire road descent to help me pull away. He fought back on though and through the slop of a trail back into camp, I think he was right behind. I couldn't bare to look back at that point.

Pulled in ahead of him and was stunned. This was not at all what I expected the week to be like. I haven't raced like that, since....I don't know when. I knew it didn't mean much. Since he started a minute behind, his finishing time was still ahead of mine. But it set the stage (and podium) for the week to come; by no means in terms of speed, but in terms of my place in the race. 3rd.

Stage 2 - Cooper's Gap

"Not the tree, not the TREE!! Here goes my race!"

I started Day 2 excited to head into Cooper's Gap. Rocky riding gems in that neck of the woods. It wasn't long into the race before the rocks really welcomed me back. By throwing me off my bike and taking a square foot of skin off of me.

Gee. Thanks.

Dropping Stillhouse, at about the time I could achieve maximum speed, somehow the bike race turned into a rodeo and I was trying to hold on as long as I could, then land as softly as possible and not get run over by the stampede still behind me. It happened so fast, I honestly don't know what happened. I got up, tried to breath again, and take a quick assessment. By the looks of things I had myself a new right elbow, I tasted blood, and the bike was intact. Good enough. Saddle up and roll on Buckaroo. Maybe this ride won't be so fun after all.

Before I got down and out towards Milroy, I passed Chris who seemed to be having tire troubles. No worries, I'm sure he'll catch up. Then I either caught up to Steven or he caught me and we rolled back into the woods together, shootin' the shit, allowing myself to not worry about the injuries I just sustained and try to enjoy the rest of the day.

No Name trail laid ahead, with miles of glorious rock gardens beyond. The week prior I cut some logs on No Name, so I knew exactly what to expect: Walking. Just a line of "riders" pushing their bikes up the mountain, click clacking their hard soled shoes on the rocks. No one in much of a hurry. Gettin' antsy, ahead of Steven at this point, I saddled up and rode the last thirty feet up and onto Beautiful trail. Didn't see any single speeder's after that.

The trails weren't too wet, but what mud there was got pulled up over the rocks making it difficult to blast through them like normal. This became very apparent on the Sassafras-Pigpile connector; slipping out all over the place. I was pretty beat up from the crash, so I lacked the small amounts of finesse I could sometimes muster.

All in all, beyond the crash, it was a pretty uneventful day. Somehow I stayed ahead though and got third on the day, but lost a ton of time in the overall.

TSE Done and Done

Seven days later and I've completed the Trans-Sylvania Epic. 

Taking Second at Stage Four, Raystown. 

                   

Finisher medal and engraved hatchet. That's right. Hatchet. 

A thorough recounting on its way...

Fatter Mustache

Three stages down and until today I was sitting happily in third place. Not sure how the GC is looking at this point, but I got fourth on the super spinny, heavy on the climbing, mostly road stage today. Third in the prologue and third (even though I crashed hard early in the race) on the second stage. Oh how I love riding in Cooper's Gap Rothrock. The crash gave some nasty scrapes on both arms and right thigh, plus the extra bonus of a fat lip (hence the "fatter" mustache).

Head on over to tsepic.com for much better media of the stages. Abe is gettin' some great shots!

I can't seem to get past B...

Yea...those last two aren't food either : /

Ready yet? TSE prep

I've been out clearing trails the past two days. And I have more down logs to cut before the prologue Sunday. Even simply working on these short stretches has gotten me pretty damn excited to be back and racing next week. Now it's time to start getting into racer-ish mode. 

Back up Maxxis tires? Check. 

FM jersey? Check.

Spare brake pads? Check.

An assortment of fuels? Check. 

Purple Lizard map? Um, duh. Check. 

Shoes that aren't falling apart and helmet without cracks? Check and... Check. 

Oh yes, and freshly serviced pedals that just arrived today. 

I gotta thank Kazz and Alex C. of the Faster Mustache crew for getting me my helmet and lending a jersey. Also, a huge shout out to Chris at Loose Nuts for overnighting them shoes to me. 

Surely I'm still missing something....

Male Escort

I'm back in State College and I made it just in time to lead out my good friend Tom on his bike tour to a wedding, to family and friends, and to some new head-space across country. We rolled out towards R.B. Winter State Park, his first stop, at a pace that he was quick to admit probably won't happen much. There were words of encouragement passed on, strategies discussed, and laughs shared. 

 The first push-off. Feel that frame flex with 80+ pounds loaded!

Our procession out of town ran the full gamut of cycling, including our friend Scott on his single-speed mountain bike, me on my flashy italian road bike, and Tom spinning the already well-traveled LHT. 

 Scott Woods threw a leg over his commuter to push us out of town. He gave Tom an extra challenge: Stairs. 

All smiles. 

Both steel...Very different rides.

Out past Centre Hall, I teased him long enough with the company of another cyclist and had to Blue Ball him, so I peeled off and up the appropriately named road. 

Ft Yargo 9/6hr

The culprits. 

Eric Burke, Gabe, Kelly and I made an FM showing at this year's Ft Yargo 9/6hr race in Winder. Like the weekend before at Cohutta, the heat was on and the 10am start wasn't helping. By lap two I was certainly playing catch-up, fighting against dehydration and general heat fatigue. But for me, the bike and gear played particularly important roles this race...

The night before, with three dollars in quarters and the knowledge that an infinite supply of 16oz C02's will NOT seat tubeless 29er tires (see Cohutta post), I used a gas stations air compressor to setup one of my favorite front tires, a Maxxis Ardent, and a new-to-me Stan's ZTR Crest ss rear wheel. Pop, pop, pop goes the Stan's wheel. That great sound of a tire bead against a rim. It's like it was made for tubeless or something. Both the tire and rear wheel were fantastic for the race; smooth, fast, and confidence inspiring up front, with a quick response and energy transfer from the back.

My 2000-mile-plus mtb shoes on the other hand? Well, as Gabe and I sat listening to the pre-race spiel I noticed that my right shoe had a sole about 75% detached from its upper. Glad I saw this before the race. Nothing a little electrical tape couldn't fix. Woohoo. I was off to a great start.

The race began with a sketchy mass start on a narrow road, continuing on pavement for nearly a mile. Our friendly race promoter (and I mean that. this dude was awesome!) informed us that this first lap would be shorter and subsequently faster than all the others. Knowing this, I kept moving forward in the beginning (yellow line rule, what's that?) so I wouldn't get slowed down on the single track.

And then my bike gave me an ego check.

As I spun out, with the hole shot up ahead, I heard that ominous rattling sound. Dropped chain! "Really?" So much for trying to pass people early on. swoosh. swoosh. swoosh. Riders zipped past me as I pulled off to the side of the road and tried to quickly put my chain back on, with diminished fine motor skills from high heart rate and plenty of adrenaline. Don't worry, I told myself. I got six hours to get into a rhythm and race.

Chain back on, I pushed onto the sandy trail. I knew the stream crossing was up ahead and the trail narrowed, so I wanted a good position. "On the left! On the Left!". Get back up there.

Wait... why can't I clip my left shoe in???

Not only was my right shoe falling apart, but my left cleat fell off? Nope. Even worse. I looked down to see a bare spindle gleaming in the sun. My pedal fell off. This was not my day.

Defeated, I pulled up off the trail and back on the road nearby. I started rolling back to my truck when I saw the race promoter (Tim I believe his name was...) on his four-wheeler. With my final ounce of hope, I asked him if he could make an announcement back at the transition area for someone to loan me pedals. As he motored away to fulfill this poor man's wish, I dug deep and tried not to be far behind. When I rolled in, he was on the mic calling for pedals, but no one was coming to my aid. So I rolled around frantically asking everyone myself.

At the furthest end of the lot, when I was about to give up, Duncan from Reality Bikes (he deserves a shout out for sure) answered in the affirmative "yea, I got some crank bros pedals. sure you can borrow them".

Backed that bare spindle out, put a fresh pedal in, and I was back on course.

I have to admit, I don't have much experience in the timed/lap format races. So, like a bat outta hell I tried to chase back up through the field and make up lost time. What I realized after two laps (the second of which was my overall fastest) was that that time really was "lost". As I chased I faded. The plan was to race consistently and the pedal fiasco sort of blew that out of the water.

I got five laps in to finish 9th for solo 6hr ss. Had fun despite all the early headaches. Them trails are fast and have some sweet features. Both Gabe and Kelly set new knobby-tire distance PR's. I think they definitely feel the pull to the dark side that is endurance racing!

Gabe and Kelly post race, just before we got bbq in Winder. 

Also posted here. 

Whatta Cohutta

First off I gotta give a shout out and thanks to fellow FM teammate, Mr. Nicoletti for lending what I reckon to be the very jersey he wore to a 3rd place SS finish in last years race. This was my first race for FM and it felt good to rock the red and black!

It was also my first time racing the Cohutta 100, though by no means my first NUE pain cave experience. I knew there was a lot of climbing to be had, but initially I was hoping to set a personal best 100 mile time, considering all the fire road. I sort of underestimated the climbing...and the heat.

But first things first: I rolled into Ducktown, TN before dark on Friday and got myself checked-in and my drop bags dropped down at the Ocoee white water center (built for the 96 Olympics), which served as the start/finish for the race. Even though this was almost my tenth NUE 100miler, I still questioned my drop bags, always asking "what if...?". What if I flat at mile 20; will I have enough CO2 at the next aid station? What if I'm cramping near aid 4 and they don't have anything salty? So on and so forth. I settled on two bags, got my number plate and got out of there.

I rolled up to a cabin my friends and former teammates (Matt Ferrari and Vicki Barclay) have rented the past several years just outside of town. Also shacking up there was my friend and Genuine Innovations Rep, Jim (Jimbo) Malta, Revolution Cycles racer Morgan Olssen, and much later in the night, the Harrisonburg VA duo of Chris Michaels and Jeremiah Bishop (eventual race winner). First thing I brought into the house was the sixer of Terrapin Rye Pale that was rattling on the rental car floor through the North Georgia mountains. You gotta have priorities going into these races and I definitely needed these cold later in the night. So in the fridge they went.

Foolishly, well into dusk, I decided to attempt to put more Stan's fluid into my tires, which, without the nifty presta valve injector, requires a break in the rim and tire bead seal. A seal that, even with ample supplies of C02 graciously provided by Jimbo, was never again achieved that night. Luckily I only messed with the front, so after an hour or so of messing with it, I settled on putting a tube in. It looked like I was in for a bumpy ride the next day, keeping my front (unsuspended) wheel at a high psi to save from changing pinch flats. Let this be a lesson. Let sleeping dogs lie. Don't mess with tubeless the night before a race. Drink another Terrapin and go to bed early instead!

The race began easy enough. A gradual paved climb, then down a bit and a hard right onto some sweet singletrack. I was in a good mood and being somewhat of a jester the first few miles. Cracking jokes. Celebrating the flowy bits out loud. Essentially making sure the people around me weren't taking things too seriously. If they were, you best believe I was trying to crack a smile from them. The way I see it, it makes long races a helluva lot more fun.

It wasn't long until we looped back towards the white water center and I was able to cut a bunch of people off as they fumbled through some rocky bits(The "Wolf Brain"/Highgroove

sticker on my fork must've given me special agility). Shortly after that though, it didn't matter much who I passed, cause we were dumped out onto the never ending, gravel grinding heart of the race. I was surprised by how many single-speeders were out. I made sure to get everyone's name and story. Half because I was genuinely interested and half because I wanted to seem like I didn't care about racing them. Hm. Maybe I shouldn't be sharing that...I was leap frogging and chatting it up with Team CF racer Nikki Thiemann a fair bit too, which was cool cause we sort of knew who eachother were from racing back in the Mid-Atlantic, but never really met until then.

All in all it wasn't until the tail end of the race that, like reverse metamorphasis, I went from being a spritely social butterfly to a slow moving caterpillar. I was strong on the long gravel road stretch out, passing people and setting what felt like a record pace, but the final loop of singletrack at the furthest point was where I let myself go. I rolled out of Aid 4 in a pack of three or four singlespeeders and held my ground until we looped back around to the same spot. It seemed as if we were at the lowest spot on course, at the base of the longest climb of the race. It was the very hill we rocketed down only a handful of minutes earlier, watching race leaders like Bishop, Pflug, and Ferrari ascend. I decided to sit and recharge at what was then Aid 5 and let several positions climb away. I was losing the battle to the heat and if the volunteers didn't run out of water, I probably would have stayed longer to rehydrate. On top of this, I had a false sense of confidence after being told I was in the low teens for single speeders. I told myself I could afford a bit of break.

Little did I know how far from the finish I really was.

I fought many demons on that backside climb. Once I was on the rollers on top and the long descent afterwards, I realized there were many others suffering. I took back a position or two before Aid 6, which seemed more of a frontline medic station than a rest stop. Several familiar faces from earlier in the race were there and I made sure to not make the same mistake twice and stay; so without letting too many leave ahead of me I rolled out.

The final miles seemed to last forever (sort of like this race report!). Nothing too exciting, just a lot of cursing the heavens and asking "why is this not over yet?!". I did finally pinch flat that front tube on the last few miles of singletrack. Miraculously the residual Stan's still left in the tire from the night before reverse sealed the tube. Temporarily.

Quick fix. Slow finish.

As I rolled through the finish in a daze only a hundred miles on a bicycle can give you, I looked behind to see 18th place in SS hot on my heels. Just goes to show, the race is always on at these events.

My friend Matt (3rd place SS) was of course already showered, sitting nearby with Jimbo. With my finisher mug, Jim discretely poured me some of that Terrapin and I sat there at the finish, content. I by no means broke my 100miler record, but I was done. And for that moment, that was good enough.

(This story also posted here)