TotWM 2008 Part 2
I’ll vouch for Rick’s performance until he had to drop. Last time I saw him on the trail he was pacelining with some seriously strong riders hauling ass down a fireroad section. Definite bummer to see him have to drop out.
My ride turned out to be a bit of an epic. You might want to grab a beer and kick back for this story…
It started out the night before when I got to the pre-ride dinner/meeting a bit on the late side and got the absolute last serving of pasta and corn available (actually about 1/2 a serving was all they had left…). I’m guessing it had been sitting around for a bit longer than it should have. As you might guess, this will play a role later in the story…
Fast forward to the next morning. Temperature at the start must’ve been in the mid 50’s. A bit chilly when standing around but perfect riding temp. It was a really windy day, though — Must’ve been some 20+mph gusts while we were headed for the start line. Met up with Rick in the parking area and started the race together. Lost him when I stopped to fix a rubbing brake pad and didn’t see him again until after aid station 2. My stomach was feeling a bit off right from the start, but I figured it was just adrenaline and that I hadn’t warmed up yet. It got progressively worse for the first few hours. The puking I could do from the bike, so it didn’t slow me down that much. The stuff coming out the other end made for some hurried stops, though. After that I was feeling quite a bit better, but all I could keep down was Gu — Nothing solid.
The course starts with some fire road that pinches off to double and single track gradually climbing from open meadow to pine forest. The majority of the 5200′ of climbing is in the first half of the race and there was a headwind for most of it. I skipped aid stations 1 & 2 to try to make up some time. Aid station 3 (~27miles) was right before the steepest climbing of the race. The course had some brutal sections to it. Some of the climbing was completely ridiculous. There were a few 1/4 mile stretches that were difficult to walk up with a bike. Rick wasn’t kidding when he said it was unrideable. The downhill on the other side of the summit was a blast, though.
Despite the slow start I was actually on-pace for my goal of a sub-7hour finish when I last saw Rick at aid station #4 (mile 47, I think. At this point I could keep down oranges and goldfish, but bananas and clif bars still made me gag.) The most technical portion of the ride was yet to come, but it was mostly rolling terrain and downhill. The technical stretches through Blue Ridge and Ice Caves trails were tons of fun. Rocky singletrack with lots of small drops — Just the kind of stuff I love. I was flying through Ice Caves when I tagged a rock that I didn’t see with my right pedal. It bounced me a bit, but I kept the bike up and didn’t really think much of it. A few miles later, though, I was climbing a small hill when my right pedal fell off. Turns out I had bent the spindle enough in the hit that it wasn’t spinning freely and had unscrewed itself. I tried repairing it but couldn’t pull it off with the tools I had. I screwed it back on as
tight as I could with my pliers and kept going. I had to put it back on twice before I got to aid station #5 at mile 56.
There was one short climb left and then it was all rollers and downhill after that, so I figured even if I had to put the pedal back on a few times during the climb I’d still finish without too much trouble. I started up the climb and, just before I reached the top the pedal came out again and sheared the few remaining good threads in the crank arm. At this point there was no way in hell I was dropping out with less than 10 miles to go, though I was starting to feel a bit like the Black Night in Monty Python’s Holy Grail. (“Come back and fight like a man — I’ll bite your pedals off!”). So off I went pedaling with my left leg, with my right foot balanced on my top tube. I’ve got to admit that, despite my frustration, it was really satisfying to see the looks on a few folks faces when I passed them that way 
. The passes were short lived, though, as I couldn’t really hang once I hit the uphills.
I was resigned to not making 7 hours, but was feeling satisfied that I’d probably make less than 8 hours even with one pedal and a very tired left leg. And then, as with all good epics, it started to rain… It was just a nice light drizzle when I was still on the rollers the cut across the hillside before the final descent. No big deal with the rocky trail on that stretch. Those of you who have ridden in the area, though, might be familiar with what happens to the dirt on the lower stretches when it gets wet. Personally, I wasn’t. So when I saw a course marshal at mile 64.5 and he said “2.5 miles to go, but I wouldn’t want to do it one footed.” I thought I was home free. Well, then things got interesting. I got about 1/2 a mile riding before my wheels were so caked with sticky mud that I couldn’t even push my bike. Cleaning the mud off was next to impossible. It would completely seize the wheels again within 15 feet. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It caked the bottoms of my shoes enough that it was hard to stand if the ground wasn’t perfectly level, so walking wasn’t much fun either. Add to that a 70lb mud caked bike carried on my shoulder and I was in for the 2 most miserable miles of my life. It took an hour and a half to slog back to the finish line. A 1/4 mile from the finish a truck drove up and offered my a ride. I told them thanks, but forget it — I was finishing this f*cking race if I had to crawl the last 1/4 mile…
By the time I got back, the finish clock was still running but no one was manning the line. I suppose they were all off dealing with search and rescue for the folks still on the course. I’m sure I officially got a DNF as a result but unofficially I finished, unassisted, with an 8:44:43 over 67.2 hellish miles. The rain was turning to sleet at this point, so the after party got cancelled. Thankfully, the beer tent was still set up .
Pre-ride and finish pictures attached.
iB
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- at least he has a beer in his hand…
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- They have no idea what’s in store…
Tour of the White Mountains 2008 Part 1
Although I trained for this race and felt quite strong 3/4 of the way thru with 90% of the altitude gain behind me, in the end I had to DNF a race for the first time in my life because I could no longer see the trail (and the stuff on it) well enough to continue. iB had to carry on for Aggress without me.
I don’t really understand what is going on although it has happened a couple of times in the past, but after the race, not during it. It was a windy day with a lot of dust in the air so I’m hoping it was just irritation. My fear, of course, is that it might be attributable to the extreme exertion. In any event, I’ll see my cornea specialist next week.
Rick E.
