I have to hand it to anyone who completes the Shenandoah 100. It is a BRU-TAL race. There are some STRONG riders out there. I knew coming off of Leadville that I was going to underestimate this race. I knew the course was slower, I knew it had a lot of climbing, and I knew that people with all different levels of training attempt this race. How do you qualify someone when they say, "this course is very rocky", or "it starts real fast." What's the frame of reference? Why is it that I hated nearly this entire race, yet I'm looking forward to doing it again?! So, the answer to the question is "Yes." Shenandoah 100 is a HARDER race than the Leadville 100. Leadville gives you pavement and fireroad and restful descents. While Shenandoah gives you some fireroad and road climbs, and rocky gnarly singletrack, and you can count on nearly every descent being a white knuckle, bone jarring, endo infested gnarlfest.
Here's how I remember the race going
The Start -- 6:30 AM
I asked a lot of questions before this race to figure out start positioning. For Leadville, getting there early enough to place your bike is important, or else the first 22 miles you're stuck in traffic. I heard Shenandoah had a lot of singletrack, so I figured the traffic could be much worse. My plan was to get out front and go fast from the start.
Bikers started grouping only about 15 minutes before the start. It was very relaxed. So relaxed that I strolled up to the start with only five minutes to spare. There was a wide line of riders across the field, with pretty much no barriers, so you can edge in wherever you want. I actually started a few feet in front and to the left of the main field of riders. I was trying to find Brent. The plan was to stick together as long as we could. But, he hit the john just before the race and I never saw him again until the finish.
I was expecting some big countdown, and a blast on the megaphone. Instead, I heard something like, "Are you ready? Ok go on, ride!" on the megaphone, and the race was off. After about 50 feet it banked hard right and into the fireroad exiting the campground. As I expected by my starting position, I got sandwiched into some parked cars but I made it out to the road ok. People were flying. I was pedaling really hard to keep with the pack and try to edge ahead. Looking forward I could already see the field was really spreading out, with the front riders already several hundred feet ahead. I guessed I was in about 150th place, further back than I expected given my pace and my starting position. We entered the first fireroad climb probably at about four miles. The pack was sufficiently spread out so there were no congestion issues at all. The first climb was pretty easy, nothing like St. Kevins. It comes at about 6 miles. The difficulty level was elevated only due to the ridiculously fast starting pace. I couldn't believe how fast everyone was going. Would they all crack? My heartrate was soaring and I was panting for air. I expected it would be like this at the front, where I wanted to be, but that's not where I was. I had to let up a little. Strategic decision. Redlining this long so early will surely hurt me later.
One cool thing I noted is how spread out the field was. In Leadville, at this time it was such a close pack, with barely any room to pass as the field of riders is so thick. Here, only about 10 miles in, and I can see about three riders ahead of me and maybe a couple behind.
The Singletrack
Ok, my recollection is a bit fuzzy. I cannot remember exactly how far along into the race when I turn into the first singletrack,but I do recall it quite vividly. Pretty much immediately welcoming me were huge boulders. On a good day I probably could have ridden it, but the trail was wet, the rocks were wet, and I was on my XDX dry weather tires. I didn't have to walk it I don't think, but I was dabbing all over the place. I believe the trail became more rideable and then sloped upwards. The separation I felt before was going away, as riders began encroaching in all directions, and before long I was in a long train of people, slooowly making our way up steep technical singletrack. People were riding about 50% of the time. It was sort of like 5 minutes on, five minutes off. If you're man enough to ride all of it, the line of people didn't seem to matter too much. "Rider!", you'd hear from behind, and walkers would part to permit riders through. Kind of futile, as riders never made it too far. So, the first singletrack section was tough, and slow, and .. i think im about an hour and half or two hours into this race and my odometer is only reading 18 miles. My odometer would stop functioning altogether at 19.35 miles.
Aid Station 2 -- 3:07 -- 31 Miles
It felt good to finally reach a fully stocked aid station. If this were Leadville, this would be the equivalent of Pipeline, in which case I'd just blow through it without stopping. However, I've been riding 3 hours and 7 minutes and aid station 3 is probably an hour and a half away, so I need to fill up a bottle and add some water to my camelback. I want to stop. I don't spend more than a few minutes, but it feels nice to stop. I'm feeling pretty hurt for being only 31 miles into the race.
Aid Station 3 -- 4:46 -- 45 Miles
Getting to aid station 3 wasn't too bad. We had a loooong steady singletrack climb. It seemed pretty endless. However, I heard stories that after Aid Station 4 there is REALLY an endless climb, so I'm not letting this climb bother me. I had a pretty decent time doing this climb. I pull out of the aid station at 4:46
Aid Station 4 -- 6:32 -- 57 Miles
This section was nothing short of absolutely brutalizing. It starts off well enough, with a left turn onto pavement. I'm liking this, thinking "easy miles easy miles". I know the trail gets tough ahead, so my thought here is about conservation. I'm looking for riders to draft, but don't really see any at my speed. I pass a few slower riders. Then, two riders pass. One is drafting the other. I hop onto the train. Mountain bikers don't seem to get the idea of drafting. There were many occasions where I looked around and see wasted effort by bikers just riding side by side or not even attempting to draft. Earlier in the race, on a flat fireroad, a racer is chatting with me. I chat back, but after a few minutes I realize what a rediculous waste of energy this was. I acted as if I was having trouble keeping his pace, and just sunk back and held onto his wheel. So, i'm now the last guy on a 3-person train. I see a warning sign (to cars) saying "bikes 5 miles". 5 miles of pavement is a good thing. I keep with the train, but they are riding fast. Even though I'm drafting, I'm still using more energy than I want. I don't want to burn out by spinning too fast here. Somehow I know that I'm going to need the rest. The lead guy either has no clue or does not care that we're taking a free ride, although I have to think he's hurting from the pace he is leading. I back off and let the train roll on without me. They must have tired, as they never make it out of my sight.
We take a right turn off of the main trail, through a little parking lot, and into what looks like the start of a hiking trail. It drops down into a rocky dry river bed, which is mostly rideable if fresh and ambitious. I ride half of it. I pull my bike up the other side of the creek bed and I see ahead of me is a portage up what appears to be a long rock staircase. For the next hour I suffer through gnarly off-camber, rocky, rooty singletrack. The grade is deceiving. I often think I can get back on my bike, but I cannot seem to get enough momentum to propel me over the next rock, and I am back on my feet. Frustration mounts as I am on my bike, no off, no on, no back off. I feel like its not worth the wasted effort to even attempt to ride. Eventually the trail levels off along a ridge, and then starts the gnarly rocky descent. A side story that I won't get into is that my front brake is barely working. This proves to be a severe handicap, as my brake levers require a full squeeze before they start grabbing. The brake issue, wet rocks, and the absence of rear suspension make the descent excrutiating. You might be reading this thinking I'm probably just some roady not used to hitting downhill. Sorry my friend as this is not the case. These descents do not qualify as cross country. I'm talking intermediate level DH terrain. Several minutes into the downhill I see a body sprawled out on the trail in front of me. I can either hop over him or pull off to the side and help him. Of course I help him. He is struggling to breath. Each breath is a moan. He's not really moving, or focusing. He doesn't speak. He reaches out his hand for help as he lays on the trail, but I fear moving him until he can sit up on his own, as I cannot tell the extent of his injuries. I ask him to sit up. He is unable to. I ask his name again. He is still not speaking. Other riders approach and lend a hand directing traffic around him. He eventually is able to sit up and shimmies to the side. In the five minutes I was there, he was never able to speak. Another rider shouts his name, read from his race number and continues forward for help. The injured rider seems stable; I carry on. Mike Phillips if you read this let me know how you fared. The bottom half of the trail turns smooth and dry, and for a brief five minutes or so the singletrack is enjoyable. I reach the bottom. I jump a stream crossing. As I exit, I hear "PssssssSSSsssSSSsssSSss". My tubless tire is gashed, Stan's fluid is spurting out. It's the first time I've gotten a flat with the stans. I stop, pull a tube out, and have a surprisingly easy go at fixing the tire. A little further on, and.. finally, aid station 4.
Aid Station 5 -- 8:21 -- 75 Miles
This is the part I've been looking forward to. I hear it's a nearly 30 mile fire road climb. The total elevation gain is probably about 3000', which for 30 miles is not a big deal for me. This is what I'm good at, what I train for, what I was looking forward to, and the part of the race that went as I expected. It started out a gradual ascent, which I hit at a good clip. I picked people off one by one. I probably picked off 40 riders until we turned right and the grade increased. I didn't exactly bonk here, but I was not able to maintain a speed to continue passing at the rate I was. I kept with a group of five or so riders up to aid station 5. I spent only a few minutes at aid station 5.
Station 6 -- 9:47 -- 88 Miles
I heard that once you get to aid station 5, it still keeps going up. So I was prepared for more climbing. But not prepared enough. The profile map looked like it climbed a little, took a dip, and then climbed back out. I estimated about 300 more feet of climbing. It was really 700 feet. 700 HARD feet of climbing.. A never-ending steep muddy slog that drained all of my energy. I was barely moving forward. I expected these 25 miles to be easy and mostly downhill. I was not expecting this 13 mile section to take me 1:20. Finally I reach the descent. As I've come to expect, there is no relaxation. Another brutal on my feet descent. I turn off the trail onto a paved road and finally to aid station 6. Only 13 miles to go so no need to hang out. I quickly downed a couple cups of coke and saw Kathleen Brooks. "Easy pavement back?", I ask. "Oh no. i'm afraid not." And reading the worried look on her face I knew the 15 minutes to the finish that I was hoping for was going to be another hour plus brutal slog.
Finish-- 10:47 -- 100 Miles
Leaving aid station 6 was a road climb. This was not too bad. Then we turned off to climb some doubletrack. This was familiar, the same doubletrack that was climbed in the beginning of the race. It wasn't bad ten hours ago, but now I'm in deep dread. It just keeps going up. Like.. 800 feet up. The trail turns right.. still up. Every now and then I hit a false summit, and every downhill is greeted by even more up. At any minute I'm thinking im going to turn a corner and there will be the finish. Surely before 10:30. I miss 10:30. I have no odometer. This is never ending. A single speeder comes up from behind. "We have to push it. We have a chance to make sub-11." My heart sinks. A CHANCE??! I'm on fumes and the though of another half hour of this sickens me. Thankfully his clock was wrong and the 30 minutes was really only 10. I push the pace to keep up and welcome the motivation and camaraderie for the final push to the finish. The trail turns downhill, and it is sweet and fast. After several bends we are whizzing through a wooded campground. I start seeing tents and a lot of people clapping and cheering. We snake through the ropes, slaloming tents. I'm finally having fun. The trail opens into a field, roped off in a large semicircle to the finish. As I'm riding through the field I feel invigorated. This is my victory lap. I reach the finish. For this effort I am rewarded with a pint glass and a small protein snack bag. I lay my bike down and wait for Brent and Brooks. I feel pretty good.
Overall
The ride was HARDER than I was expecting. I finished one hour later than I had expected. I was thoroughly impressed by the strength of the riders. My final place was 168 of 509 starters. That's 67th percentile. My leadville finish was 231 of around 900 starters (75th percentile). So, there's a lot of room for improvement for next year. I need to handle the descents much better, be better prepared for the technical sections, and put in the longer training rides.
Here's how I remember the race going
The Start -- 6:30 AM
I asked a lot of questions before this race to figure out start positioning. For Leadville, getting there early enough to place your bike is important, or else the first 22 miles you're stuck in traffic. I heard Shenandoah had a lot of singletrack, so I figured the traffic could be much worse. My plan was to get out front and go fast from the start.
Bikers started grouping only about 15 minutes before the start. It was very relaxed. So relaxed that I strolled up to the start with only five minutes to spare. There was a wide line of riders across the field, with pretty much no barriers, so you can edge in wherever you want. I actually started a few feet in front and to the left of the main field of riders. I was trying to find Brent. The plan was to stick together as long as we could. But, he hit the john just before the race and I never saw him again until the finish.
I was expecting some big countdown, and a blast on the megaphone. Instead, I heard something like, "Are you ready? Ok go on, ride!" on the megaphone, and the race was off. After about 50 feet it banked hard right and into the fireroad exiting the campground. As I expected by my starting position, I got sandwiched into some parked cars but I made it out to the road ok. People were flying. I was pedaling really hard to keep with the pack and try to edge ahead. Looking forward I could already see the field was really spreading out, with the front riders already several hundred feet ahead. I guessed I was in about 150th place, further back than I expected given my pace and my starting position. We entered the first fireroad climb probably at about four miles. The pack was sufficiently spread out so there were no congestion issues at all. The first climb was pretty easy, nothing like St. Kevins. It comes at about 6 miles. The difficulty level was elevated only due to the ridiculously fast starting pace. I couldn't believe how fast everyone was going. Would they all crack? My heartrate was soaring and I was panting for air. I expected it would be like this at the front, where I wanted to be, but that's not where I was. I had to let up a little. Strategic decision. Redlining this long so early will surely hurt me later.
One cool thing I noted is how spread out the field was. In Leadville, at this time it was such a close pack, with barely any room to pass as the field of riders is so thick. Here, only about 10 miles in, and I can see about three riders ahead of me and maybe a couple behind.
The Singletrack
Ok, my recollection is a bit fuzzy. I cannot remember exactly how far along into the race when I turn into the first singletrack,but I do recall it quite vividly. Pretty much immediately welcoming me were huge boulders. On a good day I probably could have ridden it, but the trail was wet, the rocks were wet, and I was on my XDX dry weather tires. I didn't have to walk it I don't think, but I was dabbing all over the place. I believe the trail became more rideable and then sloped upwards. The separation I felt before was going away, as riders began encroaching in all directions, and before long I was in a long train of people, slooowly making our way up steep technical singletrack. People were riding about 50% of the time. It was sort of like 5 minutes on, five minutes off. If you're man enough to ride all of it, the line of people didn't seem to matter too much. "Rider!", you'd hear from behind, and walkers would part to permit riders through. Kind of futile, as riders never made it too far. So, the first singletrack section was tough, and slow, and .. i think im about an hour and half or two hours into this race and my odometer is only reading 18 miles. My odometer would stop functioning altogether at 19.35 miles.
Aid Station 2 -- 3:07 -- 31 Miles
It felt good to finally reach a fully stocked aid station. If this were Leadville, this would be the equivalent of Pipeline, in which case I'd just blow through it without stopping. However, I've been riding 3 hours and 7 minutes and aid station 3 is probably an hour and a half away, so I need to fill up a bottle and add some water to my camelback. I want to stop. I don't spend more than a few minutes, but it feels nice to stop. I'm feeling pretty hurt for being only 31 miles into the race.
Aid Station 3 -- 4:46 -- 45 Miles
Getting to aid station 3 wasn't too bad. We had a loooong steady singletrack climb. It seemed pretty endless. However, I heard stories that after Aid Station 4 there is REALLY an endless climb, so I'm not letting this climb bother me. I had a pretty decent time doing this climb. I pull out of the aid station at 4:46
Aid Station 4 -- 6:32 -- 57 Miles
This section was nothing short of absolutely brutalizing. It starts off well enough, with a left turn onto pavement. I'm liking this, thinking "easy miles easy miles". I know the trail gets tough ahead, so my thought here is about conservation. I'm looking for riders to draft, but don't really see any at my speed. I pass a few slower riders. Then, two riders pass. One is drafting the other. I hop onto the train. Mountain bikers don't seem to get the idea of drafting. There were many occasions where I looked around and see wasted effort by bikers just riding side by side or not even attempting to draft. Earlier in the race, on a flat fireroad, a racer is chatting with me. I chat back, but after a few minutes I realize what a rediculous waste of energy this was. I acted as if I was having trouble keeping his pace, and just sunk back and held onto his wheel. So, i'm now the last guy on a 3-person train. I see a warning sign (to cars) saying "bikes 5 miles". 5 miles of pavement is a good thing. I keep with the train, but they are riding fast. Even though I'm drafting, I'm still using more energy than I want. I don't want to burn out by spinning too fast here. Somehow I know that I'm going to need the rest. The lead guy either has no clue or does not care that we're taking a free ride, although I have to think he's hurting from the pace he is leading. I back off and let the train roll on without me. They must have tired, as they never make it out of my sight.
We take a right turn off of the main trail, through a little parking lot, and into what looks like the start of a hiking trail. It drops down into a rocky dry river bed, which is mostly rideable if fresh and ambitious. I ride half of it. I pull my bike up the other side of the creek bed and I see ahead of me is a portage up what appears to be a long rock staircase. For the next hour I suffer through gnarly off-camber, rocky, rooty singletrack. The grade is deceiving. I often think I can get back on my bike, but I cannot seem to get enough momentum to propel me over the next rock, and I am back on my feet. Frustration mounts as I am on my bike, no off, no on, no back off. I feel like its not worth the wasted effort to even attempt to ride. Eventually the trail levels off along a ridge, and then starts the gnarly rocky descent. A side story that I won't get into is that my front brake is barely working. This proves to be a severe handicap, as my brake levers require a full squeeze before they start grabbing. The brake issue, wet rocks, and the absence of rear suspension make the descent excrutiating. You might be reading this thinking I'm probably just some roady not used to hitting downhill. Sorry my friend as this is not the case. These descents do not qualify as cross country. I'm talking intermediate level DH terrain. Several minutes into the downhill I see a body sprawled out on the trail in front of me. I can either hop over him or pull off to the side and help him. Of course I help him. He is struggling to breath. Each breath is a moan. He's not really moving, or focusing. He doesn't speak. He reaches out his hand for help as he lays on the trail, but I fear moving him until he can sit up on his own, as I cannot tell the extent of his injuries. I ask him to sit up. He is unable to. I ask his name again. He is still not speaking. Other riders approach and lend a hand directing traffic around him. He eventually is able to sit up and shimmies to the side. In the five minutes I was there, he was never able to speak. Another rider shouts his name, read from his race number and continues forward for help. The injured rider seems stable; I carry on. Mike Phillips if you read this let me know how you fared. The bottom half of the trail turns smooth and dry, and for a brief five minutes or so the singletrack is enjoyable. I reach the bottom. I jump a stream crossing. As I exit, I hear "PssssssSSSsssSSSsssSSss". My tubless tire is gashed, Stan's fluid is spurting out. It's the first time I've gotten a flat with the stans. I stop, pull a tube out, and have a surprisingly easy go at fixing the tire. A little further on, and.. finally, aid station 4.
Aid Station 5 -- 8:21 -- 75 Miles
This is the part I've been looking forward to. I hear it's a nearly 30 mile fire road climb. The total elevation gain is probably about 3000', which for 30 miles is not a big deal for me. This is what I'm good at, what I train for, what I was looking forward to, and the part of the race that went as I expected. It started out a gradual ascent, which I hit at a good clip. I picked people off one by one. I probably picked off 40 riders until we turned right and the grade increased. I didn't exactly bonk here, but I was not able to maintain a speed to continue passing at the rate I was. I kept with a group of five or so riders up to aid station 5. I spent only a few minutes at aid station 5.
Station 6 -- 9:47 -- 88 Miles
I heard that once you get to aid station 5, it still keeps going up. So I was prepared for more climbing. But not prepared enough. The profile map looked like it climbed a little, took a dip, and then climbed back out. I estimated about 300 more feet of climbing. It was really 700 feet. 700 HARD feet of climbing.. A never-ending steep muddy slog that drained all of my energy. I was barely moving forward. I expected these 25 miles to be easy and mostly downhill. I was not expecting this 13 mile section to take me 1:20. Finally I reach the descent. As I've come to expect, there is no relaxation. Another brutal on my feet descent. I turn off the trail onto a paved road and finally to aid station 6. Only 13 miles to go so no need to hang out. I quickly downed a couple cups of coke and saw Kathleen Brooks. "Easy pavement back?", I ask. "Oh no. i'm afraid not." And reading the worried look on her face I knew the 15 minutes to the finish that I was hoping for was going to be another hour plus brutal slog.
Finish-- 10:47 -- 100 Miles
Leaving aid station 6 was a road climb. This was not too bad. Then we turned off to climb some doubletrack. This was familiar, the same doubletrack that was climbed in the beginning of the race. It wasn't bad ten hours ago, but now I'm in deep dread. It just keeps going up. Like.. 800 feet up. The trail turns right.. still up. Every now and then I hit a false summit, and every downhill is greeted by even more up. At any minute I'm thinking im going to turn a corner and there will be the finish. Surely before 10:30. I miss 10:30. I have no odometer. This is never ending. A single speeder comes up from behind. "We have to push it. We have a chance to make sub-11." My heart sinks. A CHANCE??! I'm on fumes and the though of another half hour of this sickens me. Thankfully his clock was wrong and the 30 minutes was really only 10. I push the pace to keep up and welcome the motivation and camaraderie for the final push to the finish. The trail turns downhill, and it is sweet and fast. After several bends we are whizzing through a wooded campground. I start seeing tents and a lot of people clapping and cheering. We snake through the ropes, slaloming tents. I'm finally having fun. The trail opens into a field, roped off in a large semicircle to the finish. As I'm riding through the field I feel invigorated. This is my victory lap. I reach the finish. For this effort I am rewarded with a pint glass and a small protein snack bag. I lay my bike down and wait for Brent and Brooks. I feel pretty good.
Overall
The ride was HARDER than I was expecting. I finished one hour later than I had expected. I was thoroughly impressed by the strength of the riders. My final place was 168 of 509 starters. That's 67th percentile. My leadville finish was 231 of around 900 starters (75th percentile). So, there's a lot of room for improvement for next year. I need to handle the descents much better, be better prepared for the technical sections, and put in the longer training rides.
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