I posted a condensed version of this post on the Vavaka Racing Blog, so if you want the slightly shorter version you can head over there, or read this for all the extra bits if you want, or are the kind of person who always watches the directors commentary on DVD's just for the sake of completeness.
Saturday morning was warmer than I expected, and riding the 12 miles out to the race directly into a 20 mph headwind warmed me up pretty quickly even before the racing began. By the time the group got together to ride from the finish to the start of the point to point course the wind had picked up even more to 25 mph. This made for a very fast time trial with a tail wind almost the entire way.
Boonies Bar and Grill, the finish of the Prologue Stage
I rode the time trial on my fixed gear, just for an extra bit of challenge. I shared a start time with Nate Porath, who was trying out his newly rebuild single speed, and had a couple of EMVC riders in the time slots ahead of and behind me, so I had plenty of people to gauge myself against over the course of the race. I got a jump on Nate right off the line and was flying down the first hill, my legs spinning furiously to keep up with the bike, when all of a sudden I heard a crunching noise from my rear wheel and felt my chain go slack. My chain was not tensioned tight enough and had jumped off the cog from the bumpy gravel descent. Luckily it did not wrap up on the cog or in the wheel, so when my speed ran out on the uphill I stopped and quickly spun the chain back on. I had to run the rest of the uphill because it was steep enough that I couldn't get back on the bike and get traction from a standstill. I hopped back on and had just made the first corner when Galen flew by me. I passed Nichole Porath who was doing her first ever bike race, and my friend Claire who I almost didn't recognize because I didn't expect her to be as far up in the race as she was since she doesn't ride a lot either. I kept Galen in sight and slowly pulled him back as I got back into my groove. After I passed him I was on my own for the next several miles of the race until I caught sight of Mike "the moose" Kosloski ahead of me. I fought hard to pull him back in over the last 3 miles or so of the race, and going up the last climb I gave a hearty moose call to let him know I was on his heels. When he turned and saw how close behind I was he put on the afterburners once we turned on to the pavement he clicked up a few gears and took off. I still ended up beating him time-wise for the stage, but didn't catch up to him.
I decided to skip the Saturday afternoon stage to rest up for the next day and instead donned my cow suit to go out and help with the start/finish of the stage and to cheer on the riders. I got to signal the start of the race, and be there at the end to direct riders down to the river bottoms trail in Sechler park for one more mile of sandy fun before the end of the day. The cow suit was a big hit with the racers, about the only thing they had to smile about as they ground their way into what was by then a well over 30 mph headwind. Watching the riders struggle made me a bit glad I decided to sit that stage out.
By Sunday morning the wind had died down and the sun even poked out through the clouds as the final stage got underway. My plan was to ride conservatively for the first half of the race then crank it up if I was feeling good, a strategy that had worked out very well for me at the Inspiration gravel race this summer. Jeff Lanners and my friend Jake came up to race this stage as well, so the three of us and a few other Northfield folks formed up a good pack a few miles into the race. I was feeling pretty good, so I took pretty long pulls and tried to keep the pace steady and manageable so everyone would have time to take in the amazing views some of these back roads offered. The roads by and large were in really great shape, except a few miles of freshly graded gravel that were a bit soft (and by fresh I mean very fresh, we actually saw the grader out there while we were racing). Jeff fell off the back a couple times but we controlled the pace to let him back on. In the mean time we dropped the rest of the group so it was just the three of us. I amped the pace up to try for a Strava segment on Shady Lane, a long, steep gravel climb in Sogn Valley. It is a minimum maintenance road, so the conditions can vary quite a bit, but it was in really great shape this weekend. Last time I attempted this climb I broke my bike chain, so I wanted revenge on this hill and a chance to put up a good segment time.
Shady Lane Minimum Maintenance Road (MMR)
After Shady Lane there was a mandatory check in point just before mile 40. I waited there and chatted with the volunteers and ate a cookie while I waited for Jake and Jeff. Once we were all back together we started out, but there were more sizable hills shortly after the checkpoint and it quickly became clear that Jeff was struggling to hold the pace. Since there were a few more riders leaving the checkpoint behind us Jake and I kept riding figuring Jeff would catch on with them, and they might be closer to his pace. Jake was losing ground on the climbs too but catching back on well on the flats and downhills, but after doing this for a couple climbs he stopped for a mechanical and decided to dial it back, so he told me to push on. We were with a couple Northfield riders at the time so I kept on with them. I was climbing better than them too, so I left them behind on the next climb and decided to push ahead to catch on with another rider who I could see ahead. I worked to catch him and we traded pulls for a bit before he pulled over to eat something, so I ventured on alone.
This was the worst section of the course to be by myself, 20 miles directly into the wind. The miles seemed to crawl by and every climb I could feel my energy draining. The rider who stopped to eat caught up to me just before the town of Nerstrand. We once again traded pulls for a bit before he got a gap on me, and then stopped again to eat. This happened at least a couple more times before the end of the race and it got frustrating. I was not strong enough to keep up with him or drop him, and yet when I passed him I felt like I had to try to hold him off, so I would push on. I tried some shot blocks for the first time and they were like eating fairy magic. I was convinced at the time that I had never eaten anything so good. Finally we turned out of the wind and the rider ahead had a 200 meter or so lead on me as we rolled through Cannon City. At this point I knew what waited ahead. My co-worker Jim drew up the route for this race and he loaded up the last 15 miles with hills, and the last four climbs are all big on their own, much less after 75 miles of riding and hills already. Right as we turned onto Farmer Trail with about 8 miles to go the rider ahead of me pulled over and stopped again, this time to pee, so when I went by him I was determined to not let him catch up. I pushed hard on the hills and pushed the pace even on the downhills to hold him at bay.
I looked back a couple times and saw him behind me, but he didn't look like he was closing in on me, so I kept the pace high and just hoped he was hurting as much as I was. I still had 100 meters or so on him when I made the last turn towards the finish. The finish was on top of "Radar Hill" a minimum maintenance road with a slope over 15% at some points. Right near the base of the hill there was someone cheering who said there was a rider behind me closing fast. As I pushed up the hill there were some great cheerers, including Nate and Nichole in full cow suit attire, but I was struggling just to keep the pedals turning. I wasn't in a good mood and having people yelling at me right in my face after 40 miles of being alone with my own thoughts was a system shock. The hill was a system shock on an entirely different level too. On a good day this climb takes about 3 minutes, so I just kept reminding myself how little was left after five and a half hours of racing. I took one glance behind me when I was about halfway up and the rider had closed the gap to about 3 meters. What!? How can he still be riding that strong? I just didn't have anything more for the climb, so I kept cranking my way up and when the slope eased up I shifted and really stood on the pedals. My legs were not happy at all, but I could see the finish line ahead and I was not going to get out-sprinted after this many hours of racing, especially when Jim and Jake and Galen and the Poraths ventured out in the cold just to cheer me on. I managed to fend off the hard charging rider and just hold on to 10th place. Jeff and Jake both ended up dropping out at Nerstrand and taking the pavement in, and Jake made it out to cheer for me at the finish.
"Radar Hill" this one really hurt.
There is something really great about a tough race where you finish knowing you had nothing left. When I crossed the finish line I could not have climbed one more hill. I just stood bent over the handlebars for a couple minutes trying to catch my breath. It was all I could do to pedal the mile downhill back into Northfield where there was hot soup waiting. The race hurt, and there were points along the course where I questioned why I was doing this to myself, but the pain fades quickly and already I'm mostly only remembering what a great day it was to be out riding.
The only downside to my second gravel race is that it just confirmed that I really enjoy gravel racing, and will now have to continue to compress a busy race calendar to make room for another type of racing. The recovery is quick from these races though, and I can mostly rely on general fitness as long as I get in a couple long rides here and there to keep the body used to long hours in the saddle.
The only downside to my second gravel race is that it just confirmed that I really enjoy gravel racing, and will now have to continue to compress a busy race calendar to make room for another type of racing. The recovery is quick from these races though, and I can mostly rely on general fitness as long as I get in a couple long rides here and there to keep the body used to long hours in the saddle.
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